No. 49

When I was a kid, Sept. 11 was one of the two most important days of the year. Christmas was when Santa Claus showed up, but Sept. 11 was my birthday and my mom always made sure that it was special. To this day, I can remember the G.I. Joe, G.I. Joe car and G.I. headquarters that I got when I turned five.

As I grew older, I still looked forward to the day. I've always been a big kid, and to be honest, I would really kind of like to stay that way. Kids don't have any worries.

Then came 2001.

The date is still the anniversary of my birth, but it will never be the same as it once was. I would love to have my birthday back, that same sense of wonder, that same sense of expectation. But how can I say that? How can I be so incredibly selfish over a birthday, when thousands of others lost so much more than I did that day?

This being the tenth anniverary of the attacks, coverage of that day has been virtually wall to wall for a few days now. Today, I've been nothing short of depressed. I wanted to maybe clear my head a little bit, so I went for a walk at the park. When I got back, Jeanie handed me some note cards that Jesse had drawn for a 9/11 project he's doing at school.

One of them caught my attention like a sledge hammer between the eyes. As far as I can tell, it's his own concept, not copied from any other source.

Here it is ...

I do not mind in the least admitting that I broke down in tears. God was there that day. We might not have been able to see Him, or feel His arms wrapped around us. But make no mistake ... He was there. He was in control, and remains so today. Best of all, there will be a day when tragedies like that day will be no more.

Thank you, Jesse. Once again, you've given your dad a lift just when he needed it the most.

No. 48

Don't know how it happened exactly, but I've developed kind of a weird habit when the boys are in the process of getting in trouble.

Instead of saying something I'll regret and have to apologize for later, I've taken to saying, "For the love of ..." -- and here's the strange part -- I'll include the name of a baseball player from the 1970s or 80s. Thing is, the better the player, the more they know it's just a warning shot across the bow.

For the love of Pete Rose ...

For the love of Mike Schmidt ...

For the love of Tony Perez ...

For the love of Johnny Bench ...

For the love of Nolan Ryan ...

They're OK, for the time being. But if I start evoking scrubs, Adam and Jesse know for a fact that the four horses of the apocalypse are about to head through our house.

For the love of Biff Pocoroba ... Jesse, we're dead men.

For the love of Ed Armbrister ... hide. NOW!!!

No. 47

The ground shook and the windows rattled. What could this possibly be? A truck going by, surely. Thunder? Can't be ... there's not a cloud in the sky. It couldn't be ... no. Not an earthquake, not here in Yadkinville.

Adam walked into my office, his eyes as big as saucers and very clearly scared. Most of the time, he is a ball of energy, joking and trying make folks laugh. This was not one of those times. "Dad ... what was that?!?" he asked with urgency in his voice. "Dad, are we OK?"

Yes, we were fine. There was little or no damage involved in the quake that had its epicenter in Virginia, but how do you convince a frightened child that it wasn't another Japan? He knew what happened there and he had just felt the ground move beneath his own feet. I will never forget the look on his face or the sound of his voice.

Jesse never missed a beat, kept right on playing with a buddy who was spending the afternoon at our house. Later, Jeanie asked if he'd been scared. His reply, a full day later, gets the best of me. "A little bit," he said. "But I wasn't nearly as scared as the kids in Haiti."

The perspective of a child ...

No. 46

As most of you know, Jeanie was diagnosed with thyroid cancer in 2006 and then had it come back a couple of years later. She is now cancer-free, but has to have regular checkups to make sure things are still in check.

Yesterday was one of those appointments. The boys and I were going to go with her to the doctor's office, and before she got home from work, they were asking how long the visit was going to take. I told them I wasn't sure, but we'd stay there for as long as it took to make sure she was OK.

Because of the issues he faces, it's sometimes hard to gauge just how Jesse truly feels about things. This time, it was not.

In no uncertain terms, he declared, "If it helps keep Momma from getting cancer again, I'll stay at the doctor's office for a month."

Considering my family's history with cancer, his words rang in my ears. If it would have kept my mom and dad from going through the things that they did, then yeah ... me, too, Jesse. I would've gladly camped out at the doctor's office.

No. 45

It's been one of those days.

I have no doubt whatsoever that I would gladly lay down my life for my children. But yesterday and today ... Adam and Jesse have bickered. They have aggravated one another. They've been hungry. They've been bored. They've told on each other. Never mind the fact that I'm trying to write a lengthy feature story ... as well as, oh, I don't know ... a book.

Engine rules in NASCAR are usually ... Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaad! Jesse won't turn the TV down. Jesse, turn the TV down.

Journeyman driver Carl Long was once suspended and fined for having an illegal eng ... Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaad! Adam pinched me! Pinch him back.

Restrictor plates can reduce horsepower by as much as ... Jesse!!! Jesse, answer him. Now.

And today ...

Deployment of the tethered satellite from the Shuttle's cargo bay was going well until ... Adam!!! Adam, stop it.

When the tether snapped, the danger was that ... Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaad! What's for lunch?!? Don't know, don't care.

Rookie astronaut David A. Wolf was very proud to have been named to the crew of ... Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaad!!!

Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaad!

Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaad!!!

School starts four weeks from today. When I drop Adam and Jesse off that morning, I'm thinking very seriously that I might slow down to about 50 mph before I boot 'em out of the car. Maybe.

My momma is up in Heaven right now, laughing her head off at me and remembering all those times she told me that she hoped my children would one day give me the kind of grief that my brother and I gave her.


Mission accomplished.

No. 44

We're getting ready for church this morning and Adam insists that he and I match -- same colored shirt, same colored dress shorts. It kinda brought a little tear to my eye, him being so insistent. I was proud that he wanted to imitate me to such an extent.

And then he had to go and open his big mouth.

"Dad, I look just like you now," he said. "I think this is gonna be my Halloween outfit."

If it's OK with you, I'm going to choose to continue believing that he wants to be me for Halloween because imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, and not because he considers me a scary, hideous ogre.

Then, as we're about to pull into the church parking lot, Jesse announced that he wants to get married at another church near where we lived and not the one we actually attend. Jeanie asked why.

"Because when we went to that wedding at the other church, the service was over in like five minutes," he said. "That's a lot shorter than here!"

Yeah, Jesse, ol' buddy ... that's the spirit.

No. 43

I just got off the phone with Michael Griffin, the former NASA administrator who was named one of the 100 most influential people in the world in 2008 by Time magazine. The guy has seven different degrees, in everything from electrical engineering to physics.

There I was, trying my best to ask questions that sounded a little more intelligent than, "Gee, that Space Shuttle is neat, huh?" While I'm talking to Dr. Griffin, Jesse walks through the kitchen, which is just off my "office," and declares at the top of his lungs, "I ... just ... FARTED!!!"

Lord, help me. I love that young'un.