A Florida Sunset

This Florida sunset brought to you courtesy of the Gator Girl.

Waiting For Isaac

My friend shot this at Lido Key Beach in Sarasota, Florida. As Hurricane Isaac churns its way over Florida some of the locals hit the beach to watch the storm. In this video an older couple casually walk on the beach probably enjoying life in Florida. I imagine they've seen many storms and aren't worried in the least.

Standing on the beach as Hurricane Isaac approaches.

One Night In Cook Road Cemetery

I was in Liberty, Texas on business with my girlfriend showing her where I grew up. As the sun began to sink I got an itching to drive into the old Cook Rd Cemetery. I was a little taken back at how unkempt it was. The grass was knee high and covering many of the grave stones. We cruised the road that serves as the border of the cemetery. From the window I shone my flashlight into the darkness I spotted a stone with a familiar name, Waldrop.

I got out and walked amongst the graves. The stone I saw was just a place marker. Nelson Waldrop's grave was a square stone by my foot. I cleared the dirt to read the inscription. I knew Mr. Waldrop had died some time in the 1990s. He was a Navy veteran that served on an aircraft carrier in World War II. I can't remember how I met him but he lived nearby and I would ride my bike to his house and listen to his stories from the war. Sadly I do not remember any of his stories. I wish I had been smart enough back then to take notes. Through him I met two more navy veterans who shared stories with me. One story was from a Mr. Jack Adams who served on an aircraft carrier that sunk in the Pacific Ocean. He told me a the story of an errant Japanese Zero pilot mistaking the American carrier for his own and attempted to land. Needless to say the Japanese pilot never lived to regret that mistake. I also met Mr. Waldrop's brother who was a Navy pilot. He told me the time he was in the air and spotted a Japanese torpedo coming toward his ship. Using his machine guns he strafed the torpedo and earned a commendation for it. I asked him "were you nervous." In true, nonchalant manner he answered "naw I wasn't nervous. The guys on the carrier, they were nervous!" Those memories played in my head while standing over Mr. Waldrop's grave.

I glanced to my left and saw another grave marker reading Thompson. It was a husband and wife plot. Since the wife's plot had no date of death it was clear she was still alive and I recognized her name. She was my 6th grade social studies teacher. Then I vaguely remembered how her husband had died. He was a passenger in a car. I think the car hit a truck (or vice versa) carrying a load of metal pipes and one came off the truck thought the windshield impaling Mr. Thompson.

When I returned to the car my girlfriend was uneased. She said while was out exploring she saw a shadowy figure pacing back and forth behind me. This got me curious so I rattled off a barrage of questions like a detective. Was it following me? Did it seem interested in me? Could it have been a shadow of something? She said it ignored me and vanished when I turned around with my flashlight. We'll never know if it was it was just a shadow of the flowing trees fueled by my flashlight waving around. Or was it something more?

We continued our tour when my light hit another grave stone. It belonged to Jim Clemens. 20 years ago we called him Brother Jim. He was a pastor at a Baptist Church in town. I had heard he died a few years ago. I stared at his grave stone as my mind dug deep in its archives replaying what few memories I have of his old sermons.

Around that time I decided it was time to go. It was night and we had an hour drive back. I took one last look into the darkness. Somewhere out there were two other graves. One was Ed Ashton who ran a daycare with his wife. He would drive an old van and picked us all up from school. He was a kind man. The other grave out there was Wade Rankin. He was a school mate of mine. For some reason I never really knew he walked up to our junior high before it started and shot himself in the head.

As I left that cemetery I felt 100 years old.

Aransas Pass Fire Department

Welcome to the Aransas Pass Fire Department. Usually when one thinks of fire department a large city comes to mind. Not everyone has the resources of places like New York, Los Angeles, or Houston. However smaller places like the AP ( as the locals call it) have one thing that her bigger sisters don't have, community.





The Bay






























These chairs look very comfortable to rest in between calls.

















Check out their web page here.

The Dive Bar Restroom

Ah freedom of speech! Many consider the unfettered ability to say whatever you want whenever you want not only sacred but the truest form of expression. However some forms of expression are not always artistic but rather moronic. This post take you to a dive bar restroom ( the men's room anyhow). Scroll the walls and you can find just about every opinion imaginable littered with misspellings, grammar errors, and drunken logic. One scrawling reads "revolution!" How many grass roots movements were inspired by writing on a restroom wall? Other scrawlings inform us of how bad ass certain local bands are who can't afford a press kit at the moment. Drunken liberals scrawl their pro Obama messages to be countered by drunken conservatives. Another scrawled the 'N' word in drunken anonymity because they aren't brave enough to utter it in public. While the dive bar restroom wall maybe the purest form of free expression, some people should just shut the hell up.

Once Upon a Time in Kowloon

We've all seen the looming, oppressive metro-jungle that symbolizes oppression, poverty, hopelessness, and survival. In addition it makes a setting for a neat story. Once upon a time this place did exist in Hong Kong. It was called Kowloon or just " The Walled City." You may have seen it in 1988, when Jean Claude Van Damme starred in Bloodsport or again in 1993, when Jackie Chan made Crime Story












Kowloon began way back in the Song Dynasty as an outpost that aided the salt trade. When the British took over the region in the early 19th century the outpost became a fort. At first the city remained in Chinese hands although the British raided the city looking for resistance fighters in 1899. After that the British mostly left the city alone save for church missionaries and curious Britons who viewed Kowloon as suburbanites view a nature preserve. Kowloon was then taken over by the Japanese in World War II until their surrender in 1945. After at refugees poured into the city and come 1947, the population had reached about 2,000 people (squatters actually). Again, the British left it alone and it wasn't until 1959, that the Hong Kong authorities accepted responsibility for the city. The population expanded again from the 1950s to the 1970s however the city was ruled by the Triads criminal gangs. The Triads opened many brothels, opium dens, and the city was a haven for criminals. In the early 1970s increased police attention and raids lowered the crime rate. After that while criminals and drug addicts were prevalent the majority of the people were able to live their lives in peaceful squalor. Some businesses managed to operate as well as numerous unlicensed doctors and dentists without the burden of government regulation as well as the threat of prosecution. In 1993, the government demolished the city (after an arduous eviction process). The city is now a park. Tourists now walk where Triads once ruled, where junkies got high, where prostitutes sold their bodies, where children played, and where people struggled day to day. Now the once walled city can be visited via photographs, via video, and via books such as City of Darkness by Greg Girard with Ian Lambot
Here are some pictures of Kowloon as it was.




The urban jungle at dusk.








A mailman forced to deliver mail here.




Children play on the roof tops.




Displeased with the government's "compensation" while evicting the people of Kowloon.




Smoking while handling meat. Can't be sanitary but without regulation who cares!




Running his business from home.




The home life in Kowloon.




A man and his cats in his store.




I know a complex of businesses that were modeled after this.
















TV antennas strewn along the rooftops.




























Part of the park as it is today.
News article featuring Girard and Lambot's work.
Wikipedia article here.

Unsolved Murder in Katy

It's a nice house in a nice neighborhood.  It is your stereotypical suburbia where people keep nice houses, manicured lawns, and all the dirty laundry locked away in the closet (but that's another post).  Today this neighborhood lies among a busy, metropolitan area crammed with businesses and traffic.  However back in 1987 this area was developing.  The main road, Mason, was mostly prairie with a BBQ joint and a 7-11.  People were starting to move out west from Houston to settle the Katy area.  This house on Kent Falls was a model home being used by Standard Pacific Homes to lure new settlers.  A young mother of two, Ester Collins worked for this company.  On November 06, 1987, a home seeking couple came here and found Ester's body.  Ester had been bound, gagged, and stabbed numerous times.  24 years later and detectives have virtually no leads.  Her two children are still involved in trying to find their mother's killer.  I drove out here one night and looked at the house.  I don't know if it's my knowledge of this house's history or just the fact the street light here didn't seem to work but I had an erie feeling.  I stared at the house where Ester spent her final minutes, terrified, probably hoping and praying she would survive this ordeal to see her family again.  I hope one day they can find who did this and give her family some peace.