Me


My preferred mode of travel. No TSA, no lost baggage and I can always fly directly to our destination.




Bre, the oldest who either adopted us or we adopted her (neither of us are quite sure) decided to get a new look. The family approves.


Dylan, Bre and Ricky's oldest, has been shooting rimfire rifles for several years. Last fall we decided it was time to introduce him to wheelguns. He's a natural athlete, which makes his eye to hand coordination very good. But as an early teenager (13 in this pic), he is also impatient. When we got him to slow down on the trigger, his groups reflected his athleticism. 


Dylan is a baseball machine who just keeps getting better and better. It's not by accident, either. He has a "sports maturity" that is years beyond his calendar age. What's more, he is an exceedingly gifted student and a superb citizen--all due to his incredible mom and dad and the way they raise him and his brother.



Family shot of me, the wife and my in-laws in 2006. Two years later, my wife would lose her father and I would lose an incredible friend.



Landyn, Goose the bulldog, and Dylan sporting his Texas Tech Red Raiders colors, courtesy of his grandpa.



The wife and I at a rest stop just south of Houlton, Maine, which is about as far northeast as you can get in the United States.



I forget the name of the restaurant, I think it's the Clam Bake in Scarborough, Maine. What I don't ever forget is how awesome the lobsters, clam and seafood is. Plus, about the only place in Maine where I could find Dr Pepper on tap.


If you're going to teach big brother how to handle a wheelgun, you better believe little brother is going to be up to the task. Here's Landyn with his target after his first ever outing with a handgun.


The Smith & Wesson Model 17 .22LR is a joy to shoot. Here, the youngest grandson is getting his chops down. By the end of the session, we had eliminated that reverse thumb-cross grip and he was nailing the shots inside the eight-ring.


The wife, Bre and myself on Christmas day, 2016.


This year, (2018) marks ten years that the Lord saw fit to cross my path with that of a perky little sixteen-year old who'd never had a dad. Ten years later, I'm a grandpa and both of these girls have me wrapped around their respective and collective little fingers. And I wouldn't have it any other way.


As a writer and author, I'm supposed to always have the right words for the right situation. Yet, I have no words for how much love I have for my granddaughter. No matter how dark the day or the mood, this picture never fails to remind me just how incredibly blessed my life is.


Not even four years old and my granddaughter is already solo on her pony. Runs in the family.

My wife and I on the the beach at Old Orchard Beach, Maine summer of 2006.


Me and the co-pilot, aka the wife, somewhere between Arkansas and Kentucky on a long cross country trip to Maine.

Me and my granddaughter on Christmas Eve, 2014. What an absolute sweetheart!



The oldest with her husband and boys at our house on Christmas Day 2014.


My wife sitting in the bow during a late summer afternoon cruise at Lake Lewisville, Texas.



Ground temp at T67 (Hicks Airport, Texas) that July at noon--100F. 


En route to KSEP (Stephenville, Texas) at 4500' and looking forward to some Hard Eight BBQ. Had three hungry passengers with me.



First flying date with my girlfriend, Thanksgiving weekend 1990, who later became my wife and remains my wife to this day. Her first of many adventures in small airplanes.


Serving up my smoked brisket, sausage and ribs at a Kinman family reunion. Not an anti-gunner one in our family.



Don Pyeatt and myself at a book-book signing 21 July 2012 at Fort Worth Meacham Airport and the Veterans Memorial Air Park Museum.

Rummaging around the photo boxes upstairs in the loft/library and found a few pieces of vintage history. Here is my first arrest:


I guess she was used to it, sort of. Surprising number of the men in our family served in the military as well as in law enforcement. Even more surprising is that we all stayed married. I guess there is something to that old myth about women liking handcuffs. . .


Fast forward about thirty years with me and the part-time four-legged partner on the end of his leash. The guy on the sleeve was still pretty new to schutzhund and protection training and was extremely wary of my big east German Doberman--and for good reason as this dog was a notorious crotch biter.


 The wife and our oldest admiring a few of the firearms that have been known to hang around our families from time to time.



Grandpa and granddaughter. One year old in this picture and she's long had me wrapped around her little finger.



And speaking of having me wrapped around her little finger. This is where the granddaughter learned it from--from her mom. 



I am the most blessed man on the planet. Mom, Grandpa, granddaughter and lots of love.



The oldest with her family. There is so much incredible talent in this bunch that it is almost incomprehensible. This was taken after Landyn's first organized soccer game where he was the star and scored five goals. Mom was quite the soccer stud-ette herself back in the day. Dad does it all as does the oldest boy proudly standing behind his little brother.



Christmas 2014 at our place. Bre and her boys. Love personified.



Family shot on Christmas day 2014. Oldest girl and her family. Best Christmas ever.

Early Thanksgiving, 2015. Meet the future Texas Tech baseball All-America.