Reflections from the Fire

   In my fond boyhood memories of the movie “ The Sandlot” , the Great Bambino tells Benny in a dream, “Heroes get remembered kid, but legends never die”. That line has stuck with me all these years later. The wonder of a legend is that despite the passing of time and the decay of things that once were, a legend lives on forever. It’s just too wondrous to be forgotten. We’ve all heard of them, but few of us ever have the chance to be witness to one. But I’m one of the lucky ones. I’m speaking of course, of my friend Seth.    Having met each other through the Young Men’s program at church when I first moved to Utah in the latter part of 8 th grade, he struck me as odd. I never would have expected him to become my closest confidant and best friend. A young man that grew up with me and became a man that I loved as a brother.       As teenage boys, we found ourselves drawn to the manly man activities like camping, hiking, and boxing. I remember...

  My maternal grandfather, Fenton Williams, was a master story teller. He was a school teacher by trade. A father of 4; 3 boys and a girl. A loving husband to my grandma Joanne. An active member in his community of Fair Oaks, California. A religious man who had unwavering faith in Heavenly Father throughout his entire life. He enjoyed homing pigeons and road biking. A favorite pastime of his was releasing his pigeons miles away and then racing home to see who would win. He took great pride in his yard with a beautiful green lawn, an orchard full of olive trees, and fruits and vegetables a plenty. The home was surrounded with beautiful gardens. Azaleas, Roses, Impatiens, Crepe Myrtles, Japanese Maples, brick benches made with his own hands. I spent many years pulling weeds, trimming back the ivy, harvesting the fruits and vegetables, and ridding the cherry trees of the magpies. These are good memories for me that helped shape me into who I am today. But above all else, my grand...