Author

His career was entirely doing technical work. During the 1970's in Massachusetts, he worked with microwave frequency transmitters and receivers. He then moved to military communication equipment for aircraft, submarines, and missiles. In the early 1980's he became one of a very few that could maintain and repair to component level Tektronix, Fairchild, Teredyne, and Accutest equipment, all expensive integrated circuit testers. In the late 1980's and 1990's David lived in Idaho and became proficient programming databases, computers, building networks, programming routers, single handed he built and maintained and ran an ISP service during the late 1990's. In 2000 He moved to California where about one year later he began as a contractor to build and maintain the computer network for a small independent refinery in California. He grew in that company from a contractor to supervising the IT department building the entire network infrastructure. Working there still today at age 76 David has turned the corner and is winding down for retirement turning over his work to those younger than him.

During his life he flew, designed, built, and taught hang gliding. He has ridden motorcycles since he was a young boy and is not one to avoid tough crowds. He has enjoyed mountain climbing and the outdoors all his life. He enjoys life and enjoys God.

David came to Jesus Christ in 1993 but in a far different way than most. Not comfortable with any church David has over many years studied the Bible and been working on his own looking but not finding the right church. He then in part wrote this book, "To Open One's Eyes", to help those that feel uncomfortable with church but know God to understand that they are not alone. It shows the truth of the Holy Bible and opens some eyes to work that is needed on Christian Doctrine.

David's off time through most of his life was most often enjoying something dangerous. Insurance companies refused him life insurance, with one saying he would be dead by age forty. Being of an ornery nature, he figured he would show them and make to age fifty. Once he reached fifty, he went into denial until age fifty-six, when he realized many of his ancestors were long lived and he might have to support himself well into his 90's. He began preparing for a long life when at 60 he was in a serious motorcycle accident that broke his neck. This left him in a bit of a quandary as to was he going to live a long life or was he going to die sooner than natural, should he save and prepare or should he spend and enjoy.

Well, he entered his seventies still wondering in a quandary until God led him to this book "To Open One's Eyes - Untaught Mysteries of the Holy Bible"

______________________

Waumpus

 by dp

Waumpus was our cat. She moved with us from Shoshone Falls to Hagerman, ID, and she pretty much minded her own business. But most of all, Waumpus was my friend.

One summer day when I was 6 or 7 years old, Dad brought home a new hunting dog. He was a large purebred Weimeraner named Smokey Blue Mountain. Smokey thought he was king.

About two weeks after Dad bought him, I tried to pet him, and he growled at me for no good reason. With good common sense and the dog twice my size, I backed a way warily. Waumpus saw what happened and she also quietly crawled off into the bushes.

About fifteen minutes passed when Smokey was strutting down the sidewalk, when out of the bushes beside the sidewalk sprang Waumpus right onto Smokey’s back clawing and biting and screaming, Smokey bucking, yelping and crying, me grinning from ear to ear, giving Waumpus a shout, "Get him, Wampus!" for encouragement, as I watched Waumpus ride that dog better than any cowboy busting a bronc.

Suddenly out the back door came my Dad with a broom, Wampus was off the dog’s back and around the corner. I am running and screaming at my Dad, “Leave Waumpus alone! ”.

He stopped and turned to me red faced and angry yelled, "What caused all this!"

Whoopin' or not I yelled back, "She was protectin' me!"

He calmed a bit and so did I. That is when he heard the whole story.

Next week Smokey left our family, Waumpus stayed, and many years since while thinking about writing this piece, I finally understood the reason Mom and Dad gave her that name, Waumpus. I may have been spelling it wrong all these years.

_______________________

My First Church Experience

by dp

At age four my family had just moved to Upper Salmon Power Plant near Hagerman, ID. In Hagerman a Methodist church was my Mother’s choice and thus my initial indoctrination. Not knowing a soul, my Mother, wanting company on her first trip to a church in a new home. My brother and I were elected even though whining complaint was loud.

My first experience in that church was not a pleasant one having to just sit there on a hard wooden bench (I later learned was called a pew (probably because it is hard, uncomfortable, and it stinks to have to sit on it for an hour)) ... There I was just sitting there for what seemed like days ... Nothing to do but squirm! ... I found it confusing as to why Mother would torture me so. I certainly didn't do anything to deserve this ... at least nothing that she knew about.

I was sitting there bored when, without apparent reason, everyone stood up and this noise started near the front of the room. Then everyone started making similar noise in words. "What is this noise?" I wondered. I had to go see what started all this, but the big people weren't paying any attention to me. Blocked on both sides and too busy making noise to notice me. They just couldn't be bothered.

Jeeze, they totally ignored my pulls and tugs ... hmmm ... maybe if I wiped snot on their pants someone would notice ....... Well, that didn't work ... hmmm ... I'll just have to find another way out. I looked down and I saw the light. I crawled under multiple pews, dodging feet as I went, until I reached the front pew. Escaped at last, I climbed up on the pew right next to the noisemaker, which I later learned was a piano.

It was astonishing as the lady would move her fingers back and forth on black and white things, pressing them, and different noises would come out. How intriguing, thought I! Without hesitation, I just quietly slid over onto the bench beside her and started pressing those keys myself. After all, why should I be left out.

Wow! They made noise for me too! Everyone stopped making noise, the lady stopped moving her fingers, but my fingers had just got started ... I wasn't finished! I just played on. The room was silent except for my noise, and all eyes were on me. "Wow, I must be somethin'!" I thought.

Then the preacher asked, "Would everyone check to see if they are missing a child?"

The next thing I knew, my red-faced Mother was grabbing my arm and was marching me back to torturous boredom on the hard bench. "Now just sit there! Don't you move!", she said, wagging her finger? I had just joined the festivity and hadn't done anything wrong I could see so another wagging finger didn't influence me at all ... and of course her scolding fell on deaf ears, now that I had something to do ...... 

Needless to say, after that day my Mother seemed to agree with my brother and I, that we shouldn't have to go back to church if we didn't want. That agreement lasted for most of the summer. Church and I as a child didn't bode too well, as I found romping and playing and fighting and finding mischief held my attention much better than hard pews.