The Ornament.

My sweet husband found the perfect ornament in memory of Uncle Richard. I miss him so much. He was even more magical this time of year when he would come over and sit around and tell stories. He brought white homing pigeons over to Mama's and Daddy's house the Christmas after Nannie and Mamaw died for us to release and have a moment thinking about those we have loved so, and lost. I only wish I had homing pigeons to release for him tomorrow morning. Merry Christmas Uncle HoHo!! Share your stories of magic and wonder with the little children of heaven! I love you and miss you so much! Shannon

Dolphin, Dolphin, Dolphin.

When I was little Uncle Richard sat at our table and told a story that has come to be known as the "Dolphin, Dolphin, Dolphin Story." He retold it many times, in many settings. I remember him telling it at the dinner table at Mamaw's house several times. When I would bring friends home for sleepovers, or from MSMS, college, or even when I moved away, I would ask Uncle Richard to tell the story. He always obliged. When Dana was at Florida State, she pledged Tri Delta, and the mascot for them was the dolphin, which made it even more special! It is short, and very sweet.
On one of Uncle Richard's adventures, he decided to learn to scuba dive, and fell in love with it. (I assume that he began diving around the time, or possibly just before Jaws came out.) On one dive trip he recalled how he was enjoying swimming along with his dive buddy, looking at the fish in the reef, being amazed at the coral and colors and being very at peace. They had practiced their dive signs and were ready for anything. THEN, he said, we swam over this huge dark abyss. In Uncle Richard's mind, there was a HUGE shark, or maybe a bunch of sharks, that lived just past where he could see, in the darkness. He was afraid. He told us that he just knew he was using up all the oxygen in the tank, because he was breathing really fast and there was a constant column of bubbles coming from his respirator, and sharks can smell fear! He said that he wasn't sure when or where he heard it, but he remembered hearing that a dolphin could kick a shark's ass with no problem, AND that you could call them telepathically! He quickly started telepathically calling DOLPHIN, DOLPHIN, DOLPHIN as he swam back to the boat. He never saw a shark, but he was sure that if there were any, the dolphins were protecting him while he swam back to the boat.
Each time I go to the beach, I try to telepathically (and with silly noises too) call the dolphins. I have been fortunate enough to pat dolphins a few times in my life, and they are amazing animals. When Uncle Richard was ill and I was between trips home and feeling sad, Robert and I would go to the beach and sit on the sand and call the dolphins. They would always come! I would call Uncle Richard on the phone and tell him about my day. It would make him so happy. It was like he was there with me and sent the dolphins.
On October 11th, as I was working, I decided that I wanted to go to Treasure Island and watch the sunset on the beach in front of the beach house where Robert and I got married 3 years ago to the day. It was a spur of the moment plan, and caught Robert a little off guard. Uncle Richard didn't come to the wedding, instead, he stayed at home and watched over the dogs so Mama and Daddy could come for a while. We ate dinner at Caddy's and walked to the beach house. We sat there and talked. I mentioned how awesome it would be if we saw dolphins, but it was getting to be dusk, and not likely. I was joking saying that maybe they will come if I say "Cacaww! Cacaww!" Just before we decided to leave, I saw something just behind a nice size wave just off the beach. It was a pod of dolphins!!! I was so excited!!! It was too dark for my cell phone camera to catch but we saw them!!! Uncle Richard sent them!! I just know he did!! I hope that he sends dolphins to visit us on our upcoming cruise! I know he will!!! Cacawww! Cacawww!!
I love and miss you my protector and dolphin caller!

Shannon Outlaw-Kimsey, RN
10/29/2011

I love Fall!

I am sitting out here in my back yard, facing Uncle Richard's garden with my feet propped up and the laptop resting on my legs. Robert has to work late, so I have some quiet time with my thoughts. As I sit here, the thermometer reads 74, but it feels cooler than that, but in a good way. The breeze is blowing enough to make the leaves rustle on "The Mamaw tree." The birds are chirping in the distance and the squirrels are scurrying through the trees in the conservation lot. Sounds like they had too much caffeine today. I think I hear the armadillo scratching around out there too. He sounds much bigger by the echo of his scratching. We joke that a chupacabra lives back there just past where we can see. A Sandhill crane just flew over and made its throaty call. I swear I feel Uncle Richard sitting beside me enjoying this weather, the animals, and all of Mother Nature's beauty and God's creation.
Back when Uncle Richard got sick, i was talking to a friend of mine about how difficult it was to be so far and not be able to see him all the time. Talking on the phone each day just didn't seem like enough. She suggested that I buy 2 wind chimes and hang one outside my window and one outside his window as a way to communicate to each other and think about each other all the time. That wind chime just started chiming as I began to write. I still feel it is my link to him. Sometimes it chimes when there is no wind. I feel like it is his way of saying, "Helllllloooooo? Is anybody home?" in that old lady country voice he used whenever he would come to the house. He could crack me up anytime, anywhere.
Armadillo's getting cranked up now! Hope he doesn't come running at me or I may wet myself!! Damn skeeters are going to carry me inside!! The bats need to come eat these bad boys!!! I had to move inside before I get malaria or west nile virus!
ANYWAY.......
When I was in high school Daddy worked at Tara and Mama and Uncle Richard ran the farm. I loved going to Tara and riding through the woods and seeing the deer, turkeys, squirrels, alligators, hummingbirds...you name it! I knew it was a job with really long hours and lots of manual labor, but I never really understood the sacrifice that my parents made for 9 years living apart and seeing each other only on the weekends until I was married. That makes me sad to think it took that long to really "get it."
ANYWAY.........
I went to Tara during the week on one of the weeks off from school. The second day I was there Mama called and said, "You have to come home and take Babe to Greenville to the vet. She's not acting right. I've called Richard and he will ride with you to Dr Royal's office." (Babe was our 13 year old yellow lab who was the love of our lives, tied of course with her "baby boy" Sandy, who looked and acted so much like her.) When I got home I called Babe and Sandy and they didn't come, so I went to the dog house and crawled in to check on Babe. Sandy was sitting beside her. I touched her and knew she was gone. I sat there in the hay holding my sweet dog, sobbing as Sandy licked my tears away. I must have been making some deep guttural moaning cry when Uncle Richard walked into the back yard. He said, "Shannon, are you ok?" I just cried, and he cried with me. After a while he said, "Let's go get her favorite blanket and bury her on the other side of the fence by Benji." ( I have to stop here to say that if Mama and Daddy sell the house and someone decides to dig a pool, they are going to be in for quite the shock. We have had a lot of animals, and they are all buried in our back yard.) We got her favorite blanket and the shovels and began digging outside of the fence on the west side of the yard. To this day I can show you where she is. As we dug, we talked. He tried to make me laugh, and succeeded when he said, "We are going to bury her with her back to the North, like the TRUE southern dog she was!" So we did. Sandy sat on the other side of the fence watching us dig, cry and laugh. I dare anyone to say dogs don't understand or grieve!! That dog knew what was going on, that is why he didn't leave his Mama when I called him.
Poor Uncle Richard has buried so many of our animals. He always said, "If Josie dies, I'm going to bury her before Sheila gets home and swear she ran away!" (This would be a miracle for her to run away since Josie is now 18 1/2, completely blind and deaf and has dementia!) I never in a million years thought that Josie would outlive Uncle Richard, but he can say that he didn't have to find her, bury her, or lie to my Mama.
*****When I started writing this, I was going to write about bats by the Yazoo River, but I guess he took me in a whole other direction!*****
I miss you Uncle Richard, the "Critter wrangler" "animal lover of all creatures big and small" and most of all "wonderful uncle and friend."

Shannon Outlaw-Kimsey
10/3/2011

Final product.

Here is the stepping stone placed in front of the flowers.

The Stepping Stone

This was the finished product before it dried. It looks like a brownie. The large stars glow in the dark.



This is the finished product. When it stops raining we are going to place it in front of the pretty flowers and take a picture. I had so much fun doing this!! I think I have a new hobby!! (It is going to be a messy hobby, though!)

Shannon Outlaw-Kimsey
9/26/2011

The Void.

I think Mama said it best yesterday, "I knew it was going to be bad, but I never thought there would be such a HUGE void in my life." Losing Uncle Richard has left a hole in each of our hearts. I am having a hard time knowing what to write, but I know this is a writer's block that will pass. I started a flower garden today, that is going to be "Uncle Richard's Garden." A beautiful butterfly already visited. I hope to continue to add flowers as I see something that inspires me. The purple flowers kept attracting me back to them as I was walking through the garden center. I knew that I had to plant the purple flowers. After planting the flowers I looked up the meaning of the color purple, and this is what I found:

"Purple is the color of good judgment. It is the color of people seeking spiritual fulfillment. It is said if you surround yourself with purple you will have peace of mind. Purple is a good color to use in meditation.

Purple has been used to symbolize magic and mystery, as well as royalty. Being the combination of red and blue, the warmest and coolest colors, purple is believed to be the ideal color. Most children love the color purple. Purple is the color most favored by artists. Thursday's color is purple." (from Emily Gems)

This seems perfect for Uncle Richard's Garden.

Shannon Outlaw-Kimsey

9/18/2011

Sweet Dreams!

I had two dreams about Uncle Richard. One was last night, one was during a nap today. In the first dream, he had left behind some VCR tapes of him dancing and singing along the river bank in front of his house and of audition tapes for The Bluebird Cafe and his days with the Yazoo Chronicles. The aunts found them, and we all got together to watch them. I was delightful seeing him singing, dancing and happy again like the good ole days! The second dream didn't make quiet as much sense. He wanted me to see "Rio" which I know very little about except that it is an animated movie about a parrot. I guess I need to see the movie to see why! I feel so blessed to have my memories and my dreams, where we can visit with each other again! He is happy.







Shannon Outlaw-Kimsey
9/3/2011

To Eskimo Roll, or Not to Eskimo Roll? That is the Question.

In the late Winter of 1990 I was home from MSMS with my best friend Marcus. Uncle Richard had a friend Treg, who would come by twice a year to visit with the family as he traveled from college to college selling books. Mamaw was well into her state of "pleasant confusion." (We dared not say "Alzheimer's" because, at the time, that meant you got MEAN when you got old, and that definitely was NOT Mamaw. She was "pleasantly confused.") Treg and Mamaw would sit quietly and read together while Uncle Richard took care of the animals. They both enjoyed books, reading and quiet. Treg brought his kayak down from Nashville that winter and Uncle Richard decided that he wanted to learn to Eskimo roll. Treg made it look easy, Uncle Richard did not. We were in the Atchafalaya, and Uncle Richard was DETERMINED to get the Eskimo roll down pat! Treg stood beside him in the chest high water, and Uncle Richard would flip, and wouldn't come up, so Treg would have to flip him over after what seemed like several minutes. He was spit and sputter and say, "I've almost got it! Lets do it again, but this time don't help me!" And he would flip, and wouldn't come up. Treg would flip him up again. This went on for at least an hour in the cold. Mama, Marcus and I sat on the river bank rolling laughing. It was quite hilarious. There are photos of this somewhere, but I cannot find them. I wonder if he took them with him! I hate to say that he never learned to Eskimo roll. Uncle Richard referred to this experience as "one of a few near death experiences" he had.
That summer Mama and I were walking each evening along the river. It was peaceful and relaxing. We saw the fox that stayed around the bail of hay. We heard frogs and birds. One afternoon, just about dusk, we were walking and talking and we heard a sound, a different sound, coming from the river. It sounded scared, sad, maybe hurt. It was a baby animal. It sounded like a baby otter! Just the thought of rescuing a baby otter made my heart beat faster! I LOVE OTTERS! I WANTED A BABY OTTER TO RAISE! We squatted down close to the side of the road and called out to the baby in the river. The louder and higher pitched we called, the louder it got. It NEEDED us! We hurried to Mamaw's house to get Uncle Richard and his kayak (that he bought after trying, and failing, to learn to Eskimo roll.) He was ecstatic!! He wanted a baby otter too! He loaded the kayak and the dogs in the truck and we went to the spot where the baby critter could still be heard crying. It was getting a little dark at this point and Uncle Richard was more than a little nervous, after all, he didn't know how to Eskimo roll, the Yazoo River has a pretty fast current, and it was just after alligator mating season. The high pitched squeak COULD be a baby gator, which meant that mama gator would be close by. Uncle Richard got in his kayak, we held the dogs back so they wouldn't grab the baby or get attacked by the mama gator, and we repeatedly called out in loud, high pitched voices to the baby. Uncle Richard hummed nervously and kept talking to us. All of the sudden Pete jumped in the water to follow Uncle Richard. Uncle Richard screamed, "Gator! A gator just jumped in the water!" We tried to tell him through our laughter that it was Pete. Uncle Richard charged on to help the baby critter once he composed himself. As he got closer to the critter he called out, "I see it!" We were so excited! "Is it hurt? Is it ok?" I asked. "It is ok." he answered. "Is it an otter?" I asked. "NO!" he said sheepishly. "Oh crap! Is it a gator?" I asked. "NO! BIGGER!" he yelled. Oh hell! I have gotten Uncle Richard into something that is HUGE and he can't Eskimo roll!! This could be IT!! Uncle Richard said, "I'm not bringing it back!" and he wouldn't tell us what it was until he got back to the bank of the river. By this time, it was dark! When he got back he said, "You will NEVER guess what it is!" We couldn't, despite our best efforts. Uncle Richard told us that it was a small tree, that had fallen in the crook of a larger tree, and the current was moving it back and forth, causing it to rub, and make a high pitched "Eak! Eak!" sound. We laughed so hard that we were calling in high pitched voices to A TREE!!! It honestly seemed to be responding! Uncle Richard was the best sport about the weird situations that we got him into! He loved us, he loved animals, and he would do anything to help a person or animal in need, even if it meant putting himself into peril because he couldn't Eskimo roll!
I love you. I miss you. I cherish the wonderful memories we have made together! Thank you! You still make me smile and laugh!

Shannon Outlaw-Kimsey
8/15/2011

Stories We Grew Up On as Outlaw Children: Part 1

As everyone knows, Uncle Richard LOVED to tell stories. From the time he returned from his "nomadic days" wandering across the United States in 1980, I remember him coming over to our house and sitting at the table to tell stories. We would sit there for hours listening to him. (***Disclaimer: These are my memories of the stories he told, as best I can remember, but as we all know, HE MAY HAVE BEEN MAKING THIS UP!***) Uncle Richard took college courses all across the nation. Wherever he landed, he took a course. At one point, he stopped in Tallahassee, FL and took art courses at Florida State. The way he paid for the courses at FSU was by attending Florida A&M, which is a historically black college, so they paid him to go there as a minority and one of a hand full of white students at the time. His art teacher at FSU was amazed by his knowledge and use of color and asked how many other art classes he had taken. He explained that this was his first college class. Then he proceeded to go into a story that went something like this: "Well, you see, I grew up on a farm in Mississippi, and every fall it was time to slaughter the pigs for food. Mama would take us out to barn and we would cut the pigs throats. We would then hang the pigs up to drain the blood and skin them. We were poor folks, so we had to use every part of the pig in order to survive. We kids would follow Mama and take the pigs to the sun baked side of the barn. Mama would take the first intestine in both hands and swing it over her head like a lasso and pop it like a whip. (He made the motions as he spoke.) The crap from the intestines would splatter on the sun baked side of the barn. It was like a color pallet of yellow corn, white oats, red blood, green bile... every color of the rainbow in a beautiful display on the faded paint of the sun baked side for the barn. Then one by one, each of us children would try to swing and snap, but none of us were as good as Mama. After a day of slinging chitterlings the sun baked side of the barn looked like a painting, and that is how I learned my use of color. " He said the other students in his class sat wide eyed and quiet, in shock at his demonstration and description of barbaric country living. He said that he made the whole story up on the fly, but never let on to his teacher or the students that it was anything but 100% truth. As he said, "There is nothing wrong with "leg pullin'." The difference in "leg pullin'" and lying is that lying has malicious intent, where "leg pullin' " is strictly for entertainment!" Another one of his favorite sayings was "Don't let the truth get in the way of a good story!" So here my friends, you have the first of MANY wonderful stories from Uncle Richard. I miss you, your humor, and your magic!
Shannon Outlaw-Kimsey
8/7/2011

The Story of Uncle HoHo

For as long as I can remember, Uncle Richard has been magical. My earliest memories are of him showing me baby chicks hatching, and holding an egg up to my ear and hearing a faint little “peep, peep” coming from inside. New life was always springing up on the farm. He would say, “If you come by tomorrow, that mama hen is going to have babies, but they are going to be ducklings!” The next day, plain ole Mama hen had hatched baby Cayuga ducks. Magical! I couldn’t wait to see what kind of cute furry baby would show up next! I also loved how all of his animals got along. The dogs didn’t fight the chickens, or the deer, or the turkeys, or cows or sheep. It was how I imagine Heaven is: peaceful coexistence. He could get cows to walk down the side of the road in a single file line just by walking beside them. If one slowed down, he would gentle say, “Freckles, pick up the pace. You are slowing everyone down and nobody likes a slow poke. Panda face and Banny aren’t going to walk behind you anymore.” Freckles would pick up the pace. Magical! He could raise any type of bird or animal, nurse them back to health, and send them back into nature. He was never attacked by Weed-Eater, the demon possessed billy goat that chased everyone at least once and Mama several times. The geese didn’t hiss at him. None of them ever acted threatening to him or scared of him. He was always so patient when we called him several times each spring. I know when the first spring winds started to blow, that he expected it. Every baby dove and sparrow that fell from the poorly made nests became Uncle Richard’s next baby to raise. He would put them in a sock, under a heat lamp and lay them in a box beside him on the floor so he could feed them every hour, or he would put them in his shirt pocket to carry around the farm. He always seemed to have a baby something or other in his shirt pocket. He would say, “Guess what I have in my pocket?? If you guess, I will name it after you.” He raised the babies and let them go. He wanted them to be wild and free. Some would come back to visit when he was in the yard, like baby blue jay after he was grown and flying with the big blue jays or Beauty, the doe that stayed around the farm for years. They came back because he is magical.

I would walk along the river with Uncle Richard, Mamaw, Beauty the deer, and any number of turkeys, doves and dogs. We hunted for rocks, picking them up and discussing the beauty of each one. Several of them made it back to the house and were placed on the shelves in the kitchen. You see, like Mamaw, Uncle Richard saw the beauty and uniqueness in each rock, just as he saw the beauty, uniqueness and talent in each of us Grandchildren. He accepted us where we were, just as we were, and encouraged our talents always. He saw talent, gifts and worth in each of us, even when we couldn’t see it in ourselves. Children flocked to him, and he loved each of us for our uniqueness and despite our flaws. After leaving each visit, you could only feel special, talented, and uniquely LOVED. He is so much like Jesus in this way.

Long after Mamaw Outlaw forgot the words to “Happy Birthday,” she remembered the words to “Tennessee Waltz” so she and Uncle Richard would call me on my birthday to sing. He would start by snapping his fingers and saying “a one, and a two and GO, I was dancin’ with my darlin’ …” Then he would say “Bring it home Mama!” and she sang louder “to the Tennessee Waltz!” It was magical.

Uncle Richard and Nannie Smith had a special friendship too. When Nannie was getting close to death, Uncle Richard came to visit and sang songs to her that he had just written. The songs were “Mellow Out” and “Little Dove.” She tapped her foot and smiled weakly. She loved him so. He had “escorted” her safely to Florida and back, been there after Grandad died, and made her laugh through her tears. When they were together, they were like prank pulling children. It was so special that she would be his first live audience for songs that he would one day record and sing at “The Blue Bird Café.” I can only imagine their reunion in Heaven: tears, hugs, and lots of magical laughter.

When Nicole was about 3 years old, we all came home from Florida for Christmas. As we drove to Mama and Daddy’s house, we saw Uncle Richard walking the cows along the side of the road in a single file line. Nicole’s big brown eyes got as big a saucers, her mouth fell open and she gasped and whispered, “IT’S HO HO.” She saw the magic too! She thought he was Santa. Her Mom explained that he was Uncle Richard, but she could call him Uncle Ho Ho, which he loved.

Uncle Richard, I miss you. Goodbye. I remember. ‘Til we meet again, under the biggest, prettiest Magnolia tree in Heaven. Wait for me there. I will be there shortly, for our time on Earth is but a blink of an eye.

Love,

Shannon Outlaw-Kimsey

7-11-2011

The Road Not Taken

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveller, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I--
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference

...Robert Frost

This is one of many poems and quotes that make me think of Uncle Richard. He didn't follow the road everyone else did. He did things his way. If everyone else walked in a straight line, he skipped in circles! If everyone else played an instrument, he "stomped out a beat on a board." As Brother Ragland said, "He was a visionary. He was unique and he was so very special." Knowing him and growing up with him as my uncle and my friend makes me yearn the take the road less traveled and see where it leads me. I am feeling very inspired, and quite frankly PUSHED by him to start writing. I welcome any stories that should be shared on this awkward attempt to capture a tiny spark of what made him so special.