 Hello. My name is Charles Pitcher. I am a native of Pascagoula, Mississippi, retired and now living with my wife, Elizabeth in Cumming, Georgia. We have three beautiful, married daughters and thirteen grandchildren; all equally beautiful. I hold degrees in Geology and Law and practiced Law for twenty-six years in my hometown of Pascagoula. Please go to the provided links to view my offerings either in ebook or print format. Thank you in advance for considering the purchase of my fiction novel. Links: to Amazon for ebook or print versions. To SouthernStories for print book version: I am pleased to direct you to a website created by my good friend and Ole Miss fellow graduate, Jim Ritchie. It is a wonderful link that highlights Mississippi authors. My book "Two Lives One Life" is now presented there. Please take a look at all the offerings. to Smashwords for ebook version. Temporary unavailable. Go to above site for ebook purchases.
BOOK SAMPLE “Henry, do you see the tallest oak tree on yonder hill?” He pointed out the window over his shoulder without even looking. “Have you ever climbed such a tree?” How could he know of one of my most embarrassing and frightening experiences? “Yes Sir.” He responded, “Tell me about it.” I recollected that a huge live oak tree occupied the bottom behind our house. I was ten years old when I decided to climb to the very top of it to discover how far I could see. The oak had a diameter at the trunk of about eight feet. Its limbs were very stout and stretched out from the trunk parallel to the ground, often as far out as thirty feet or more. Spanish moss hung from the smaller, secondary limbs branching from the main limbs. On the tops of limbs and usually on the north side of the trunk lichens grew, knit tightly to the tree bark. The bark was thick, with deep groves dividing it. As the tree grew upward the limbs became progressively smaller and the tree rounded at the top. The leaves were dark green, oval shaped and of glossy appearance. The tree bore acorns in season by the bushel basket full. And so, there was the description of my “Everest” as I recalled it. My climb began quickly on the lower main limb branches and the going was fairly easy. As I continued upward the limbs grew smaller and my efforts greater. My attention to this point had been constantly upward. A few feet from the top and probably ten minutes later I stopped to rest and felt a little tired. For the first time I looked down through the foliage to the ground below. I must have been thirty or forty feet off the ground. My stomach tightened into a little knot as my arms and legs locked in a death grip around the limb I had reached. The lichen under my arms and legs suddenly felt wet and slippery. I was wet with sweat from the climb and it began to get in my eyes and burn. A wave of nausea overtook me. I closed my eyes to shut out the reality of my plight. I was so scared. It was more than I could bear. I imagined my certain fall to the ground. I supposed that the limbs would cause me to tumble rather than break my fall. The ground would race up to meet me with incredible force. My life would probably flash before my eyes. So there I was perched some forty feet off the ground, hanging tenaciously to the limb, paralyzed with fear and afraid to even move or look. After what seemed like forever I heard a curious sound just in front of me. I opened my eyes and there, in the midst of my calamity, was a gray squirrel not five feet from my head. He was perched on the limb with me, sitting upright on his haunches and busily shelling an acorn to eat the meat inside. He was watching me intently but showed no fear of me. I was absolutely of no threat to him in my present state and he seemed to know it. After finishing his snack, with bushy tail flagging furiously, he groomed his face, eyes and mouth with his front paws. He took one last glance at me as he leapt from his perch. He landed on the limb below me and scurried out to the end of it, grabbed another acorn and began to eat once more. My fascination with the squirrel coupled with his obvious agility and climbing ability eased my fear somewhat to the point that I was able to loosen my death grip and slowly sit upright. I regained my senses and carefully scooted backwards along the limb until I reached the trunk. I then felt with my foot for the limb below and slowly lowered myself to it. After a brief assessment of the move I mustered enough courage to repeat it to the next lower limb; and so I progressed, backing down, crab like, until at dusk dark I reached the ground and fell prostrate there and lay for some time until I regained my composure and contemplated my brush with death. Until that time I was immortal, but now, mortal indeed. Having completed the recounting of my tale for him, we both sat in silence, reliving the experience in our minds. Then he inquired, “Have you been back up the tree?” “No Sir, and I don’t plan to do so!” “When you reached the top did you look out and around to see what it looked like from way up there?” he asked, even though I believe he knew the answer. “No Sir, I was too scared to look,” I replied. He leaned forward and in an accusatory tone said, “So you did not accomplish what you had intended, did you? And therefore the climb was for naught, was it not? And your fear overcame every part of your being didn’t it?” This was too much to take in all at once. I arose and told him I was going to walk around for a while, and did so as he rose and moved to his window. I cannot explain why his statements angered me. Had I done something wrong? Was he unimpressed with my life threatening experience? Was he right to question the outcome? I went back and confronted him with a question of my own. “Old Man, what would you have done if in my shoes?” I have you now, I thought to myself. “That is not the question to ask Henry. The question is what will you do when, in the future, you are once again confronted with fearful things? Will you confront the fear head on and conquer it, or will the fear always control your life?” He paused briefly and then said, “Most of our fears or either imagined or blown all out of proportion to what is reality. In any event, to grow in wisdom one must learn to use and control ones’ fear and not let the fear control you.” “What should I do?” I asked, anticipating the response but not wishing to hear it. Old Man moved back to the rocker, fixed those blue eyes upon mine and sternly exclaimed, “Go and climb the tree again and look around this time!” Three days later I climbed the tree again and looked around. It was beautiful up there. I could see the water tower on the other side of town, cars passing along the highway in the distance, flocks of birds gliding along at eye level and clouds that seemed so close that I might reach out and touch them. The climb down was easy. That afternoon I made a special trip to his room and told him. He smiled and said softly, “Good.” With that affirmation, I left. |
Welcome to my bookstore! Here you may browse my offerings and link to my Smashword or Amazon/ Create Space sites for more information. I am pleased that you are interested in reading.
"MUSINGS" "TWO LIVES ONE LIFE" What was it like to be raised on a farm in rural Georgia? Why was Henry intrigued with "Old Man" and why did the old man show any interest in Henry? What does the "tree" have to do with coping with "Fear"? Have you ever been to a County Fair with a carnival, or to a Church picnic? If you heard on the radio that Pearl Harbor had just been bombed by the Japanese what would you have done? How did Mary and Henry first meet? Was it romantic? "Do you remember when you first fell in love?" Henry asked Old Man. "What is love?" Read his response! Have you ever been to a fraternity party with a live band and dance with your date and what was it like for Henry and Mary? Henry joined the Army and was sent to basic training. What was that like? Henry was attached to a field hospital located in Oran, Algeria and received wounded from the African campaign against Rommel. What was a typical day like for he and his close friend, Fred Guenther? What was Old Man's secret about his past? Read to the end and find out. |
