Uncle George and the Old Pocket Knives

I bought 10 old broken pocket knives on eBay for 4 cents, yes 4 cents.—Shipping was $20. I received the precious knives I wrote the seller this note today—Good Evening. Yesterday I received the old pocket knives. I am 85 years old, with a tumor on my brain stem. I was a small boy in Texas in the Outback of Texas. We had very little money. —My Uncle George was injured at birth and was mentally handicapped to a small degree but he could still function. He was the kindest man I have ever known. When we visited Grandpa and Grandma, and Uncle George in Oklahoma he would always give me a broken pocket knife. He taught me so much–how to shoot—how to love things and so much! I loved the pocket knives. We moved away and followed picking fruit in California. I lost all the knives. At 17 I joined the Air force and was almost immediately sent to Korea. The knives you sent mean so much to me. Thank You—Thank you!

Outrageous Prices

Prices are sky-rocketing! 6 months ago I paid $25. for 1/2 pint of Metallic Gold 1-shot enamel—yesterday I paid $38. for 1/4 pint can. I was informed that Apoxie Sculpt is taken a big rise in October
—will I keep going—Yes! It is what i do to keep active—but that is why I don’t even try to sell my works—Prices are too outrageous!

Weathervane Horse

I am working on a few more special pieces. This one was claimed by Arleney long before it was finished.. Perhaps this is one of my most loved pieces by the people who have seen it. It is a badly damaged antique Weathervane Horse. I am so happy it has returned to its beauty!

For Todd in Oklahoma

Sorry for the exposure on these photos. This bird is 100% Sam McKamie’s bird. I jsut added the stand. It was shipped today to a young boy many, many miles away. I hope he enjoys it as much as I enjoyed sending it to him. He is unaware that it is enroute.

I Remember

My earliest memories are of Dad and Mom on our Cotton Farm in Texas—How they basically had to sell due to debts from rains not coming and crops not growing—I remember them and us two boys, although very young, having to work hard in the cotton fields. And I remember i remember coming to California, living John Steinbeck’s “Grapes of Wrath_ The car was the home of us two boys, the tarp covered trailer is where dad and Mom slept I remember the entire family picking fruit and moving from crop to crop. I, sadly and angerly, remember how we were treated. I remember living in a tent until Dad could find a little bit of land to build a home for us,——But there was never a lack of love–such love as folks don’t seem to know these days!—–And
suddenly I am old enough-17 to join the Air Force —and the rest is history. I did very well in my chosen careers.——And now I have so very much—A loving wife—loving children and a ton of grandchildren and great grandchildren. And NEVER without something, anything I want to eat! Oh My Gosh I am rich beyond measure!—And I want to give back. I want to see the sparkle in someone’s eyes as I given them a token of love. I want to let a child, seemingly without hope, know I see the him or her, and know there is hope-someone cares—-and I tell you, the reader, about it, hoping you will do the same. There is such joy in giving!—And I am grateful to my God!