Connect Archive

I’m Eleanor, but Not Roosevelt

Posted January 14, 2015 By Reba J. Hoffman, Ph.D.

As I waited for my load assignment coming off home time, I wandered into the Walmart. And, as is my habit, I made my way to the book section. I always want to see if my friends’ books are there. I have a bad habit of browsing sideways and am notorious for getting so caught up with the titles, I’m constantly bumping into people. If that was illegal, I’d have gone to prison a long time ago. Such was the case today.

As I raised up to apologize for colliding with another shopper, my eyes connected with Eleanor. She is a lovely teenager with Downs Syndrome. Before I could utter words of apology, she blurted out, “I’m Eleanor, but not Roosevelt.”

“Well, Miss Eleanor, I’m so sorry I bumped into you. I wasn’t paying attention.”

“No you weren’t. Know how I could tell? Because you were looking down and I’m way up here.”

I was instantly captivated by the sparkle in her eye when she told how she could easily see I was going to hit her. She was just as emphatic when she repeatedly told me she was NOT Eleanor Roosevelt.

“Eleanor, do you know who Eleanor Roosevelt was?”

“She was a very important and smart woman. That’s why my mama named me Eleanor. That’s how I knew you were going to run into me.”

“That’s RIGHT! You’re mama sure gave you a great name.”

Eleanor’s life is simple. She is happy, something conspicuously missing in today’s America. She takes things in stride, like a stranger bumping into her in the book isle at Walmart. She’s never met a stranger and she finds the good in everyone. 

“You make my heart happy and warm, like hot Krispy-Kreme donuts,” she said of me.

“What do you want to be when you grow up?” I just had to ask.

“I want to be a helper.”

“A helper?”

“Yes, I want to help people with whatever they need me to help them with. My heart jumps up and down in my chest when I do that.” She placed her hand over her heart as if she were going to say the Pledge of Allegiance. “My heart is right here. Did you know that?”

“Well I do now, and I bet it’s really big.”

“You’re funny. What’s your name?”

“Reba.”

“REBA?!”

“Yes, Reba, but not McEntire.”

“Like Eleanor, but not Roosevelt.! We’re just alike!”

Eleanor erupted into uncontrollable laughter that flooded my heart. Instantly, we were holding our sides in the middle of Walmart. For whatever reason, because our first names are also names of famous people, she and I made a connection. At that instant we were of kindred spirit. After several minutes we said out goodbyes. I watched as Eleanor walked off recounting the entire scene to her all-knowing mom. 

It was just a brief moment in time that played a song on the strings of my heart. Eleanor, but not Roosevelt, enriched me today. Thrilled my heart. Bathed my soul in warmth and sincerity that could only have come from her. As I walked back to my truck, I realized her life’s goal will indeed be fulfilled if she just stands in the presence of others. She will surely help anyone she is around just by being herself.

Thank you Eleanor, but not Roosevelt… From your new friend, Reba, but not McEntire.

 

 

 

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They’re All Around Us

Posted March 12, 2014 By Reba J. Hoffman, Ph.D.

Last weekend I sat in a local restaurant waiting to meet a friend. An elderly lady sat a couple of tables away from me. We exchanged nods of greeting and both went back to our tasks.

I was so engrossed with planning out my week, I didn’t notice that she had gotten up and shuffled to my table. When I looked up, she held out her watch.

“Darlin’ are you good at setting the time? I just mess it up every time and it would mean a lot to me if you can do it.”

It was a simple watch with a stem that you pull out, turn and set the time. Easy, peasy. So, within seconds I had her watch running with the correct time.

She thanked me and shuffled back to her table. I sat grateful that she’d asked for my help, thinking what a blessing it is to be available and able to help someone in their time of need.

Moments later, she gasped and said, “I thought it was only 10:30 but you set my watch for 11:30.”

“Yes ma’am, the time changed last night to daylight savings time.”

She giggled and blushed that she’d momentarily forgotten the reason she’d needed me to change the time on her watch. We struck up a conversation and I realized how lonely she is.

Earline only bought coffee. I have no doubt she had coffee at home. And, looking at how nimble her fingers were, I also realized she probably could have set the time on her own watch but she needed human connection. That was her greatest need on Sunday morning. So I gladly helped her out.

We chatted for the longest time before she called herself a cab.

Here’s the thing. They’re all around us. Somewhere out there, they’re waiting.  Just look around. You’re sure to find someone who is lonely, depressed, or generally deprived of human interaction and connection. It’s sad really, particularly since we’re so close to them.

I blessed Earline that day but she blessed me more. Being able to provide human connection and caring to someone else is by far the one thing we can do that will give us the greatest return.

It took maybe fifteen seconds to set her watch. No big slice of my time but it helped her. And when we chatted, I discovered she was a very pleasant woman. I really enjoyed the banter.

Please take a look around you. See who needs your help. Your connection. Your caring and offer it to them. It won’t be time consuming and it will bless you way more than it blesses them. I promise!

When was the last time you reached out to someone like that? What was the outcome? Share it here!

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Don’t Go at it Alone

Posted January 13, 2014 By Reba J. Hoffman, Ph.D.

Early yesterday morning, I sat looking out over the lake. The neighborhood ducks had also just awakened and waddled down to the water. They floated around lazily, no doubt grateful the lake was no longer covered with ice.

In the distance I heard the honks of a flock of geese. As if using radar, they made their way to the body of water and landed in the middle. Seconds later they all began a honking frenzy. Suddenly, another flock of geese joined them. Then a third, and fourth. The honk alert system was deployed each time.

Within moments, the center of the lake was completely filled with geese. They and the ducks paddled around the lake with not a care in the world. Indeed, they had it made.

As I sat there and gazed at these beautiful creatures and their habits, I couldn’t help but wonder what it would have been like if any of them had tried to go at it alone. First, it would have quickly tired flapping it’s wings into the wind with no other goose to draft behind. 

And, it would not have been able to find this small lake nestled among the trees in Appalachia. Even in the winter, it’s covered by trees. 

Now, as I write this, the geese and ducks are floating around in the placid lake as the sun makes its way toward the western horizon. The water fowl have had a peaceful day. So have I just watching them.

I wonder if you’re relying on your fellow geese or if you’re trying to go at it alone. I’m notoriously a do-it-yourself-er. It’s hardwired into my independent DNA. So, I’ve had more than my share of flying alone looking for the lake. And, my arms have gotten really tired flapping into the wind. I’m predisposed to this type of challenge.

But what about you? Do you fly with others who share your goals and are heading in the same direction you are? Or, do you try to go at it alone? Well, it is possible to get where you’re going by flying solo, but it’s not easy. In fact, it’s very difficult. 

You deserve to be able to draft sometimes as you fly. You also deserve to have others who have already landed signal you so you’ll know where to head for rest, rejuvenation and even a new place to call home. 

Let yourself be guided by others who have gone before you. Let the trusted geese in your life honk you home. Let them flap in front of you once in a while. You’ll be happier, healthier and whole. 

Who has gone before you and shows you the way? How do you feel about it? Do you let them? Share it here!

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Packing Up, Ready to Roll!

Posted October 3, 2013 By Reba J. Hoffman, Ph.D.

The long-awaited day of departure for the next segment of the Road to Freedom Tour is less than 24 hours away. I’ll be taking to the roads again on Friday, October 3rd. I’ll be heading south to Central Florida for a few days, then back north before heading generally west.

On the road again, just can't wait to get on the road again.

On the road again, just can’t wait to get on the road again.

Many of you have emailed and texted me, wondering how my knee is feeling. it’s doing very, very well. I’m riding normal daily distances now with no pain at all. I was expecting surgery and extensive rehab but here I am walking miles around town and riding dozens of miles a day on Dakota.

BiknJeanne Hargrave, my cyclo-touring mentor, and I caught up with old friends yesterday to cruise a 30 mile ride on a local rail trail. After navigating the heavy urban traffic for several days, I was elated to see chickens running around at the trail head. A ride through the countryside was just want I needed!

I know why the chicken crossed the road, but why did they come to the bike trail?

I know why the chicken crossed the road, but why did they come to the bike trail?

I was able to reunite with old friends and meet new ones. Unlike professional bicycle racers, when friends get together for a ride, no two of them look the same. Their attire is different. The bicycles they ride come in all shapes, sizes and colors. But we all have a common purpose: to have fun and fellowship!

One friend I was especially grateful to see is Larry Elswick. Several years ago, Larry retired, bought a touring bike and set off to ride cross country. He went from east to west. That’s unusual. Most riders like to go west to east, thinking the wind will be at their backs. But Larry blazed the trail and made it all the way from Virginia Beach to the western shores of Oregon. 

My hero!

BiknJeanne has been such a great help to me on this leg of the journey. She completed some fine tuning on my bike that dialed things in very nicely. I’m confident Dakota will perform admirably. 

Cyclists come in all shapes and sizes but all have round tires and are ready to roll!

Cyclists come in all shapes and sizes but all have round tires and are ready to roll!

Sadly, I had to order a part for my new Bob trailer so I won’t be taking it to Central Florida. I’ll pick it up as I pass through this area next week on my way west. So, at least for this leg of the journey, I’ll travel light and use my panniers. 

Most likely, I won’t have a blog post tomorrow but don’t miss a special tribute to Helga Gish on Saturday. 

Thank you all for your support, prayers and for helping me get the word out about the Road to Freedom Tour. Thanks to you partnering with me, over 1300 women so far have found the courage to face their fear and find their freedom. Good job!

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Paying it Forward

Posted October 1, 2013 By Reba J. Hoffman, Ph.D.

If you’re been following the Road to Freedom Blog, you’ll remember  many stories about the unexpected generosity of total strangers. Such was the case today. I’d like for you meet Ed.

While preparing to resume the Road to Freedom tour, I tried to figure out something that could help prevent a re-injury of my knee as I pedal. I began researching bicycle trailers as a potential option. The reviews were overwhelmingly positive, particularly regarding the Bob Yak trailer.

Captain Ed shows me my new trailer

Captain Ed shows me my new trailer

I talked to cycling buddies and decided it could actually help minimize the strain on my healing ligament. Trouble is, they retail for $450. So, I headed to Craig’s List where I found one for $125. It was three hours away by car, or two days hard ride fully loaded on my bike. 

I had specific questions so we emailed back and forth for a few days. Finally, I was ready to at least go try it out. I was blessed when my friend, Cathy, volunteered to drive me to Savannah, GA to look at and possibly purchase this used trailer. So I made a call to Ed, the owner. 

Ed said he’d been following my blog and immediately asked how my knee was doing. When I told him it was doing great, he said he thought the trailer would help quite a bit. And he should know. In 2010, after passing the Bar Exam, he and a friend rode from Maine to Key West. He pulled the trailer for three months. 

Ed then said something I wasn’t expecting. He said he would not sell me the trailer. I was okay with that. I’d be reluctant to sell my cycling equipment. He then said the Road to Freedom was such a noble mission he wanted to donate the trailer to me and the Tour. 

Ed paying it forward!

Ed paying it forward!

So Cathy and I hit the road for the 150 mile trek to Savannah. Ed, an attorney, serves our country in the Army as a member of the JAG corps. And he is a wonderful young man. He said, “So many people helped me along my trip. I”m just paying it forward.” 

I felt like I’d known him forever, and yet, we’d only met moments before in a gas station parking lot. I suppose some people met there to deal drugs, or to hitch a ride, or just get gas and the 42 ounce fountain soda they sell for only 99 cents. But Ed was there paying it forward and I was there being blessed beyond measure.

The ride through the low country marshes of north Florida and Southern Georgia are breath taking but they fail in comparison to the beauty of a soldier, a total stranger, so eloquently and completely met the need of The Bicycle Lady and the Road to Freedom Tour. Ed made a way for the tour to continue by helping ease the strain on my recovering knee.

This is yet one more miracle that has occurred on the Road to Freedom Tour. Even though I will sleep in the undeniable peace that comes from a need being met, I have no doubt that Ed will receive the greater blessing for having set aside monetary gain and decided to be content with paying it forward.

You mean Bob is really mine?

You mean Bob is really mine?

When was the last time you either paid it forward or was blessed by someone paying it forward? Share it here.

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Triple Blessings!

Posted September 23, 2013 By Reba J. Hoffman, Ph.D.

Some days are just made to reunite friends. Yesterday was one such day. What began as an ordinary day turned out to be an incredible blessing, three times in a row!

I needed to pick up Dakota. I had him shipped from Evansville, IN to my friend, Cathy’s house in Florida. I hadn’t seen Cathy since I left Florida in April so my heart filled with anticipation as her husband picked me up and drove me to their home. She and I have known each other since 1986. She’s just down home good people. See her made my heart sing.

Dakota and me ou tof the boxThen I spied him. Dakota lay lifeless in a box marked “Schwinn”. No offense but Dakota is a custom built Waterford touring bike, thank you very much. I noticed right away there were some holes in he box. That couldn’t be good. Could it? I cut the tape and peered inside. There he was, all taken apart and packed inside cardboard. My eyes filled with tears.

As I began the task of reassembling my disassembled workhorse of a bike, my phone rang. I stared at the caller ID in disbelief. It was BiknJeanne! I call Jeanne Hargrave the Godmother of cyclotouring. She’d introduced me to traveling by bicycle and taught me how to live on the bike.

Dakota and me1Jeanne lives less than five miles away and volunteered to come help me with Dakota. I’d not seen her since I relocated to central Florida four years ago. And she brought tools! She ambled in tools, in hand and together we tackled Dakota. We worked for a  couple of hours together putting him back together again.

Maybe all the King’s horses and all the King’s men couldn’t put Humpty Dumpty back together again, but two women with tools had no problem putting Dakota back together. And, to put icing on an already delicious cake, Jeanne showed me tricks and shortcuts that saved time and were better for the bike. 

BiknJeanne and me1I spent the evening grateful that I’d been able to spend an afternoon and evening being reunited with friends. I’d missed all of them. 

Today, I will actually get on Dakota and test him to make sure we put everything back together the right way. I’ll also test my knee to see if it has healed enough to endure repeated pedaling. I feel very confident about Dakota. My knee may need a little more TLC before it’s ready to take to the open road again but I’ll know tomorrow!

It’s going to be a GREAT day! So what’s next for the Road to Freedom Tour? Right now, I’m looking at a possible October departure back on the road again, helping women who are the victims of violent assault. I find myself singing, “On the road again, I can’t wait to get on the road again…” 

 

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“It Happened to Me…”

Posted September 17, 2013 By Reba J. Hoffman, Ph.D.

 

I just completed an awesome five days with My Book Therapy (MBT) at the American Christian Fiction Writers (ACFW) Annual Conference in Indianapolis. It was an amazing whirlwind of a time. I’m the Member Care Coach at MBT and spend the entire conference each year at the MBT booth.

 

My dear friend, award winning author, Lisa Jordan and me.

My dear friend, award winning author, Lisa Jordan and me.

I have the privilege of meeting hundreds of writers at different places on their writing journeys. I encourage, celebrate and pray with writers. I help them find their way. It’s such a rewarding time, I hate to see it come to an end. 

This year was different in two regards. First, I had dozens of women approach me. They would wait until no one else was around and muster the courage to utter these words that I’ll never forget, “It happened to me.” One by one, they told their stories.  They have survived insurmountable odds and were trying to move on with their lives. We shared, cried, hugged, prayed.  I lost count but the last I can remember, over 40 women shared their stories with me. They are heroes, each and every one of them. 

I know that Road to Freedom Tour has only begun. I also believe it must be done on a much larger scale than I ever imagined. My plan was to fly back to Florida where I’m connected and plan my next steps. On Saturday, I was approached by an agent who wanted to know about my bicycle trip. When they heard the adventures of “The Bicycle Lady”, they asked me to send them a proposal for the book I’m writing. On Sunday I was approached by an executive editor for a major publishing company who asked for a proposal as well.

For those of you who are not in or around the publishing industry, please let me assure you this rarely happens. This was confirmation to me that God wants Road to Freedom to have a broader scope so that hurting women all over the country can face their fear and find the freedom to abundantly live the life they have only been existing through since they were assaulted or abused.

I left the hotel and headed to the airport to fly back to Florida. I was wearing an ACFW shirt that a woman in line at Starbucks recognized. She discovered that I was the Bicycle Lady and insisted that I accompany her to her gate to meet her friends. We stood around as I recounted story after story of God’s power to heal wounded women. 

 

My brand new friends at the airport

My brand new friends at the airport

We laughed and cried together. They prayed for me right there at the gate. I had to rush back to catch my own flight so I took off down the concourse at break neck speed. Suddenly, I felt a firm hand on my shoulder. I turned to find a female police officer stopping me. My first instinct was that I was speeding. Okay, I know there is no speed limit for pedestrians in the airport, but she caught me off guard. Then I wondered if it was illegal to pray in the airport in Indianapolis. 

Then the words came… you know, those four immortal words that I’ve heard over and over on the Road to Freedom. She said, “I overheard your stories back there. I just felt I needed to tell you, ‘it happened to me.'” 

I completely abandoned any attempts to catch my flight. We stepped over to the corner and I listened while she told me about enduring sexual abuse at the hands of a family member while growing up. As an adult she knew she had to become a cop to fight back for those who, like she’d once been, were unable to fight back.

Tears flowed down her cheeks as she told me how she fights for others now. Officer “She has a heart” is a champion for all those who the Road to Freedom serves. She is a hero!

In the days, weeks and months to come, Road to Freedom will be expanding to bring this liberating message to a much larger number of women at a time. I’ll be working with partners to bring encouragement, teaching, speaking, books, and other media to the masses. RtF has garnered so much media attention and the momentum is high. 

We must get this message out to hurting women. Would you be willing to partner with me? Here’s how:

1) Help me get the word out about my blog. Invite others to follow it. Whether they are hurting or not (don’t assume they’re not hurting. These women suffer in silence), ask them to follow and to share my blog with others. They can sign up right on my website and have my blog delivered to their email address daily.

2) Consider purchasing my e-book, “Facing Fear and Finding Freedom” available on Amazon for $2.99. All the proceeds go to the advancement of the Road to Freedom Tour. Also, if you read it, I’d be honored if you’d give it a review on Amazon. That helps others who are deciding whether to buy it.

3) Pray about Road to Freedom. I’ll be hitting the road again before long (Although probably not on the bike… maybe in an RV?) to continue the message and helping others heal.

Facing Fear book cover CORRECTED rjh

Click on Picture to purchase

Now that ACFW is in the history books, the blogging adventures will resume on a daily basis again. 

Thank you all for your support, love, prayers and encouragement. As I reach out to others, I am your arms extended!

 

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Farewell Henderson… But Never Goodbye

Posted September 12, 2013 By Reba J. Hoffman, Ph.D.
Helga Gish and me... new budds

Helga Gish and me… new budds

As you read this, I’m in Indianapolis for the American Christian Fiction Writers (ACFW) annual conference. While I’m so excited to see all my author friends, I must bid farewell to all my new friends in Henderson, Kentucky. It has been a joy to be with you.

From the moment I rode in on Dakota until today, I have never felt out of place for even a single moment. The people of this town embraced me like one of their own. I was immersed in the activities, culture and amazing friendships that make this town what it is. 

I could not bid farewell to this wonderful place without expressing a special debt of thanks to so many people who ministered to me in such a tangible way:

Clydean Gish and Me

Clydean Gish and me

Danny and Clydean Gish, for welcoming a total stranger into your home. Thanks for not being scared off by the weird lady in spandex and helmet hair.

Brad, Amy, Bailey and Alex Ayer, for introducing me to Danny and Clydean. And to Brad who insisted he drive to McDonald’s to give me directions to their home. I would not have stayed in Henderson had it not been for you. Look at all the blessings I would have missed out on.

To Helga Gish, for your never ending stories of the old country Germany. I visited my father’s homeland in my imagination thanks to you. May God heal you and bring you home from the hospital very soon.

Lisa, Melody, Me Debi and Clydean at lunch on the Ohio River

Lisa, Melody, Me Debi and Clydean at lunch on the Ohio River

To Rick and Melody Thompson who allowed me to recover from my injured knee on your farm. Your hospitality is humbling.

To Sue, Debi, Judy, Sally and the ladies of wounded hearts who made me feel so at home. I learned so much from you.


To Pastor Mark Galloway and the congregation of Zion Baptist Church who never treated me like a visitor. From the moment I entered, you made me your own.

To Beth in the Henderson County Library who felt sorry enough for me that she gave me a library card. You

Zion Baptist Church Inner City Campus

Zion Baptist Church Inner City Campus

made my day.

I know I’m forgetting people. It is not intentional. There were just so many blessings, I can’t keep up with them all. Please forgive me.

I pray that God will lead me back to Henderson very soon. Until then, may He multiply blessings back to you for the blessing you have been to me…. my new family… 

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The Heartbeat of America is Alive and Well

Posted September 9, 2013 By Reba J. Hoffman, Ph.D.

Help Henderson4They lined up as far as the eye could see, the sun over the stadium casting the all-telling shadow over them as they waited. Inside the stadium, volunteers unpacked boxes, set up tables, cooked food. In just moments, lives would change.

For the workers, it seems like not enough time to get things ready. For those who waited outside, the moment would not come soon enough. 

I walked slowly through the crowd with the other workers, praying for and pronouncing blessings on these citizens of Henderson, Kentucky. An elderly man saw my knee brace and said he needed one too. He raised his shorts and showed me scars from surgeries. Had mine fit his enormous leg, I would have given to him. 

Mothers with children asked that we pray that their daddies would be released from jail. They were too young to understand he’d Help Henderson T-shirtcommitted a crime. They just felt the gigantic hole it left in their hearts since daddy left. A lone child stood in the wings listening intently as we prayed for a particular family. As the team walked away, she tugged at Melody’s hand and quietly asked if she could pray for her daddy. He was in jail, too.

Those in need lined up in complete orderly fashion, patiently waiting for their turn at each booth. No pushing. No shoving. Just grateful realization that people in this town understand they have needs and are doing something about it.

Mothers, grandmothers, daughters, sisters walked together, hoping against hope that their lives would improve today. Wide-eyed children took balloons and candy from agency tables as moms filled out applications to receive aid and Help Henderson8other assistance. One end zone was filled with clothing, shoes, books and toys donated and manned by Goodwill Industries.

The other end held a prayer tent, filled with volunteers ready to intercede for the needs of others. Between helping with the event, I walked around observing how this town takes care of its own. Rich, poor, young, old all together in one place working together to make life better. 

As a praise band sang and prayer blasted from the stadium PA system, I knew in no uncertain terms that the heartbeat of America is alive and well. God is still on the throne in Kentucky and hearts are still tender toward Help Henderson6neighbors in need. 

I left there and went to a block party in an underprivileged neighborhood. We cooked hotdogs, hamburgers and offered fun and
fellowship to people who just don’t normally receive and outreached hand… well, except in Henderson. Kids played on inflatable obstacle courses while others looked on, eyes gleaming as they anticipated their turn. 

They were grateful. Joyful. Filled with wonder that total strangers would reach out to them where they live Block Partyand extend the right hand of fellowship. It was a good day Saturday in Western Kentucky. God is very much present on the Ohio River and the heartbeat of America is alive and well. 

There’s a lot of gold in Henderson, Kentucky. It fills the hearts of the kind people here and they can’t rest until they use that prosperity to help their fellow citizens who are in need. Thank you for reminding me how people should act.

 

 

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It’s Just Different

Posted September 3, 2013 By Reba J. Hoffman, Ph.D.
Oh, that hurts!

Oh, that hurts!

As you all know, I’m hanging out on the farm outside Henderson, Kentucky as my knee slowly begins to heal. I’m grateful to my friends, Melody and Rick, for opening their home during this time. 

It’s been a whole lot of fun but I’m learning things are different here on the farm than in the city. It’s not like I’m from the real big city, like the Big Apple or LA. Still, it’s just different. Here are some of the things I’ve experienced that take on a whole new meaning in the country:

1) When you’re asked what sides you want with your meat, they go out back in the garden and pick it. In the city, if it ain’t on the menu, that means you won’t get it.

2) When your vehicle breaks down, you just deal with it. There’s no such thing as AAA here like in the city. The problem gets solved a whole lot quicker here, too.

3) Distance is measured in time, not inches, feet, yards or miles. But that’s a good thing. We can drive all the way intoKentucky Countryside

town in fifteen minutes. I sat in traffic in Orlando much longer than that to go five miles. 

4) When a woman grabs a 9mm pistol, loads two clips and runs out back to where her husband is sitting, it’s only because she’s trying to get in the target practice she needs before the sun goes down and it gets dark. Good thing since I’m not sure whether 911 works this far out in the country.

5) When folks ask you “did you eat”, it’s because they really want to know and they are prepared, willing and able to feed you if you’re the least bit hungry.

6) Food is not wasted. If you have extra, you find somebody to give it to. You just don’t throw it away. If the veggies are getting soft, you freeze them for the long, cold winter.

 

Henderson, Kentucky

Henderson, Kentucky

Today, I’m in town, taking in the sites and people of Henderson, Kentucky. It’s a beautiful place right on the Ohio River. The people are like none I’ve ever met. And, I haven’t  met a single one yet that I didn’t instantly “take a likin’ to”. 

I could have done without a torn ligament in my knee, but if it had to happen, I’m so grateful that I’m mending in this neck of the woods. It’s a place where folks come visitin’ on tractors and white tail deer walk up to your doorstep. People stop to help you if they think you might need it, or just to jaw with you if you don’t.

One of the things I set out to prove on the Road to Freedom Tour was that the heartbeat of America is alive and well. I can’t vouch for places west but I can tell you it definitely is in Kentucky. I thank God I’m mending on the Ohio in the little town of Henderson, KY. Though I’ve been accused of being a yankee (haha), I feel right at home.

Thanks Henderson and all my wonderful friends I never knew before two weeks ago but feel like I’ve known a lifetime. You make a gal feel special!

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