Me and Jesse - Me and Danny

PRELUDE BY DAD

My grandmother died when I was seven, and we moved to the “Home Place.” A shallower, crumbling cave replaced the “West Place” farm’s deep, scary cave. It was not as frightening as the deeper cave. However, some bricks in the curved ceiling had fallen, making its surface a dangerous place to play. In addition, I suspected some connection between those two caves and a portion of the unfinished dirt walls under our parlor floor.

The quicksand pit and the meandering river with pirana, sharks, and swordfish at the “West Place” gave way to an equally dangerous raging creek. Its banks were the source of many “scientific” searches for buried treasure and dinosaur skeletons. Skirmishes and wars usually “forced” us to fall into the shallow waters on hot summer days.

A dozen other mysteries of the one farm changed locations. Some jungles of the new were deeper, darker, and filled with more dangerous animals and savage humans. A corn crib, three outbuildings, and a horse barn replaced our single chicken house castle in our new world. We deemed the vacant parsonage across the road to the east a haunted house worth daytime investigation.

Ordinary people might expect that would leave the oddities and puzzles presented by the “West Place” behind. Instead, however, they followed us and made room for even more fantastic adventures. Our cave was smaller, but the jungles, the barns, castles, and the raging rivers were enormous and potentially more terrifying, depending on the enemy we confronted.

Our adventures only decreased as we aged and took on more and more farming responsibilities. Until then, boredom was a dirty word that always led to new and more challenging adventures. I often felt sorry for city cousins who visited us on the farm, whose worlds seemed sterile by comparison.

That is until I heard and began recording the adventures of Danny and Jesse. So many of their adventures in the small town of Soldier, Iowa, took me back to some of my own experiences on the farm: the search for escaped convicts, the passing bands of gypsies, the raiding of the melon patch, the exploding beer bottles, the tornado we almost encountered on our way home…. My list continues to grow.

How about you? We all have our “growing-up adventures.” I’m certain you’ve got stories of your own. I’d love to hear them. Jot me a note or an email. Who knows? With your permission, they may make it into a sequel to this sequel. In the meantime, don’t bury your childhood memories; write them down, embellish them, and enjoy reliving a portion of the past—especially the parts that bring a smile to your face.

The response to Me and Jesse—Me and Danny has been amazing, resulting in several people telling me their childhood stories. Their stories reminded me that a lot can happen in a small town when pre-teens with unlimited imaginations let their stories flow and mold themselves. In addition, their stories reminded me of other adventures that didn’t make it into the first book. Thus, this sequel almost wrote itself.

I’ll let Danny and Jesse tell more stories from the past. I have based the following stories on actual events or adventures. But, as with the first book, I’ve colored and spiced them with fantasy and fiction, challenging the reader to discern the real from the imagined for themselves. As I re-read these accounts, I must remind myself that some mysteries and fantasies cross the line with one another.

I also freely admit that I am uncertain how imaginary some of the more surprising elements of some stories are. For instance, how imaginary were all the episodes involving Rufus? Were some of them real? The same questions may linger in the minds of readers as the following stories unfold.