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Pre World War family pictures from New York
Pre World War family pictures from Arizona/New Mexico
World War II
1950's and 1960's
1970's and 1980's
1990's and newer





This is the 1971 Kingman High School Madrigals. We won State in 1971. Not just in double a schools, but against the whole bunch. Phoenix Union, Gilbert, Tucson all fell to this little collection of raging hormones and acne. A friend of mine once said it looked like one of my wedding photos. Indeed, I married two of these girls. Take your best guess and then click on the photo to solve the puzzle. But a larger puzzle remains. It is right there, in the picture. So subtle you'd never notice it; like something out of the Xfiles. I'll solve the 2nd puzzle for you at the bottom of this page.




The past, the present and the future walked into a bar.
It was tense.

Time, they say, flies on wings of lightning and you cannot call it back, they say. They might be wrong.

We all have watershed moments in our lives; those times when, had we turned left instead of right, everything that followed would have been different. I have had more than my share of those. Or perhaps I simply remember too well. On the other hand Retrocausality demonstrated with quantum entanglement. If quantum physics doesn't blow your mind, you don't understand it.


Honoré Frances Buckley
My Grandmother
They tell me she was ornery
John Dillon Conneally Sr
My Grandfather
He was a New York City cop
Legion of Merit at Guadalcanal
Peleliu
China
You will notice the
EXPERT rifle badge.
Lemon Meringue Pie




All my kids together at once. It may never happen again.


Me, Tess and Dillon.
Probably Easter of 1994
My son Dillon and my Grandson Leo




Eryn and W3








This picture was posed. I started hunting with my dad when I was 10. I bagged my first buck the same year.

In this picture I was 16 and it was the first time I had gone into the wilds of Mohave County alone and returned with a buck. They were so proud of me they made me pose for this picture a few days later. The irony is that I could have done that at 14, but I didn't have a drivers license.

This poor animal received the ultimate goose! He was running up a small hill and away from me. When I fired the bullet went directly up his ... ah ... really made a mess of his insides. Field dressing a large animal is messy enought but I pretty much had to open him up and then pour it all out.

The rifle was a custom .257 Roberts Improved. It was improved because it had an intentional head space problem so I could make the reloads really hot. The barrel was turned from a bull barrel to a sporting barrel. It had a Czech made Mauser blot action that was smooth as a babys butt. The scope was a Unertl Hawk with a wide verticle post and a single horizonal cross hair. That post stood out very well in the brush. I sent many a mule deer to the next life with that rifle.





Spooky Map #1



This is a map of a piece of Stockton Ca. I worked there, for a company named Big Valley Helping Hands Corp in 2001. The green arrow marked "A" was my afternoon bus stop. It is obscured by trees from this angle.

One afternoon in February or so, I was leaning against the sign waiting for a bus. I was facing south, as you can guess from the picture. To my right and behind me, I heard roller skates. I looked over my right shoulder and saw a kid on a skate board. Nothing remarkable about him He followed the green line (forgive my art work or lack thereof) skated down the side walk behind me, turned north at the corner and move out of my view. I turned my head back to my front (the south) and I heard roller skates. In the time it took to turn my head, this kid had skated around the white building and ended up right back where he started. The second time he went past me he continued east, across the street (the red line) and skated down the block. I actually blew it off the first time. I decided I was tired, made up some excuses so that I could think I hadn’t seen what I had seen.

About two months later, call it mid April, at the same bus stop at the same time of day. I got some movement in my peripheral vision, turned my head and saw a guy step out from a house, following the blue line. There was nothing at all remarkable about this guy; Blond hair, blond stash, blue wind breaker. He followed the blue line, walked around the corner and out of my field of view.

I turned my head back to the front, got some movement in my peripheral vision, turned my head, and there he was. The second time he walked past me, he too followed the red line and walked off down the block. I tried to speak to him but couldn't think of what to say. "Excuse me. Are you a ghost or a time traveler?" There is absolutely no way I can imagine, in the real world, that this could happen. But it did. This is the kind of stuff you see in dreams. I was wide awake.


Spooky Map #2




The bus stop symbol (in the middle of the road) was my morning bus stop. It was November of 2001 and raining like hell. I had a borrowed umbrella (thanks Dorothy - did I ever give that back?) my best jacket and was standing in the rain at 7:15 AM. Pershing Ave is one of the main drags in Stockton and at that time of the morning it is a metal river traveling 45 mph. Speaking of rivers, the little stream at the bottom of the picture is the Calaveras River of Mark Twain fame. (I really thought that was cool.)

I'm standing in the rain essentially facing east and looking to the north to see if the bus is near. I noticed a woman on a bicycle. Mid 60's, orange tee shirt, yellow hair, not blond, yellow, and soaking wet so it was sticking straight up. The entire effect was that she couldn't have been more noticeable if her hair was on fire. She road down the street directly in front of me, got to the corner at Brookside, took a right and peddled off down the block. I turn my face back to the east, said to myself "only in California", looked north to see if the bus was near ... and there she was. You can clearly see from the map there is no place to turn around ... no short cut that could have brought her past me again so quickly.

The second time she rode past me we had eye contact. The look on her face was the 'thousand yard stare'. It is the look on face of a young Marine who have given up and expects to be killed. It is the look on the face of the homeless who have been too long on the street. It is the look of death.

She continued south over the little bridge and out of my sight.


Some randomon photos.

Old Rex and young niece Margo. Sister Sue, Jack and Johnny


Spooky map #3 should go here, but it is impossible to get a google map of a place that doesn't exist in this timeline. Sorry. You'll just have to wonder about that one. But here is a hint. A mountain named Boulder Springs, near the 66 Port of Entry, is not what it used to be. Maybe it never was.

Mark 11: 23-24

23 For verily I say unto you, That whosoever shall say unto this mountain, Be thou removed, and be thou cast into the sea; and shall not doubt in his heart, but shall believe that those things which he saith shall come to pass; he shall have whatsoever he saith.

24 Therefore I say unto you, What things soever ye desire, when ye pray, believe that ye receive them, and ye shall have them.








The other puzzle.
Click on the picture.