American Hero - Part II

(Flyover at K-State football game, October 29, 2011)

In honor of Veterans Day, I'm sharing a feature story about Vietnam POW Bill Talley. I wrote the story for Wesley Towers, the retirement community in Hutchinson where Bill and his wife, Louan, now live. Wesley Towers gave me permission to reprint the story from their Fall 2013 newsletter, Tapestry. (I've been writing for Tapestry for nearly 25 years.) As a side note, Bill's wife, Louan, grew up in Stafford and then lived in Stafford while Bill was imprisoned in Vietnam.

Part I was printed in the blog yesterday. (Click on the link to read it.) Because it was long, I printed it in two parts. On May 11, 1972, Talley's plane was hit by a missile over Hanoi, it went down, and he was captured by the Vietnamese. Here is the "rest of the story," beginning when Talley arrived at the Hanoi Hilton, the infamous prison.

***

The Hanoi Hilton

     For the first few weeks at the Hanoi Hilton, Bill Talley was in solitary confinement. Each night, he was taken from his cell, where his captors interrogated him for hours.

    “I was surprised that they didn’t really ask me that much about military operations,” Talley said. “They were more concerned with propaganda. They wanted me to denounce the U.S. military and the war through writing letters or at a press conference. They used fear tactics, telling me that they would withhold treatment on my knee if I didn’t cooperate. My knee was black and blue, six inches above and six inches below the kneecap. I had red streaks running down toward my ankle. The interrogators would say that I needed to write the letters or give a press conference so that I could get treatment and so that my leg wouldn’t have to be amputated. I refused, over and over and over again.”

    After about two months of solitary confinement and nightly interrogations, Talley was moved into a large room with 12 other POWs. It was only then that his captors informed the U.S. military that he’d been captured and was a prisoner of war.

   “That’s when my wife found out my status,” Talley said. “It was typical for the Vietnamese to delay reports of capture. Some wives didn’t know the status of their husband for several months and a few didn’t know for several years.”

    Talley didn’t know where his wife and children were either. He knew that they’d have to move from McConnell, since he was no longer on base. It took several months for him to learn that they had moved to Louan’s hometown of Stafford. Though families wrote letters and sent packages to the POWs, the guards rarely let the prisoners read their mail.

   “But we could always tell when a package arrived. The guards would smell like aftershave.”

   Still, Talley was grateful for the move out of solitary confinement.

   “For a short period of time in my life, I lived in the company of heroes, who chose their own attitude despite extraordinary deprivation and cruelty. We survived because of our determination to resist the enemy by any means available and our commitment to something greater than ourselves – the survival of our comrades. Some of these men had been captured four to six years before me. They were like big brothers to me and gave me advice, encouragement and help I needed to sustain me until release.”

    The POWs endured rats, mosquitoes and filth. They ate two bowls of soup a day, pumpkin in the summer and cabbage in the winter. They were sometimes confined in handcuffs and leg irons or had to kneel on broken glass.

Faith during adversity

    Talley said it was his faith that kept him going. After he was moved to the room with other POWs, a ranking officer assigned him the job of chaplain. Using a bit of confiscated lead that they fashioned into a pencil with threads from their clothes and blankets, he transcribed the Apostle’s Creed, words of hymns and Bible verses that he learned in Sunday School as a boy in Oklahoma. He used sheets of rough brown toilet paper for his makeshift prayer books. Once a week, they would quietly sing the songs and read the words, taking comfort in the ritual that reminded them of home and family.

    “Although my life as a prisoner was miserable, I can’t say that the time was entirely wasted,” Talley said. “A person develops a new perspective towards life and his fellow man when he can personally witness people caring for and administering to sick and wounded under the most severe conditions. I have seen hungry men give up what little food they had to help a companion. I have seen cold men share the few clothes they had with sick or injured prisoners.

    “One of the most impressive sights was to see men fashion a simple cross from two sticks and, in their own way, worship God, despite their circumstances. One lesson I learned in prison was that I can be happy and comfortable in life with less than I previously thought necessary. (Eugene) “Red” McDaniel told me while we were still in prison that he didn’t consider his six years as a POW wasted. He believed when we were released he would be able to live and enjoy the remainder of his life more than people who had not shared our experiences. He could enjoy simple acts that most people take for granted, like getting a drink of cold water from the refrigerator. I think he was right.”

POW-MIA Memorial at the Stafford VFW

 Operation Homecoming

   In December 1972, Talley and his fellow prisoners were thinking about Christmas. They were tying together old olive green socks and fashioning them into a make-shift Christmas wreath.

   “We heard a rumble like thunder,” Talley recalled. “It was continuous, and it got closer and closer and louder and louder. Through the bamboo curtains over the windows, we could see the orange glow of fires as bombs were dropped. The POWs who’d been there awhile told us, ‘Pack your bags, boys. The B-52s are coming, and we’re going home.’ ”

    Later, the POWs learned that President Richard Nixon had ordered the B-52s to bomb Hanoi, an unprecedented move since the U.S. hadn’t previously bombed there. Nixon ordered the bombing stopped on Christmas Day, but it resumed the day after and continued for five days. The Vietnamese signed a Peace Treaty January 28, 1973, and the war ended.

   Talley was released from the Hanoi Hilton after 322 days in captivity, along with 589 other Americans, during Operation Homecoming, March 28, 1973. 

    “When we came home after the war, we were asked to write a one-page message of how we endured a cruel time in our lives,” Talley said in a recent speech. “Nearly all of the POWs credited their survival to three faiths: Faith in God who would not abandon us. Faith in America who would not forget us. Faith in our comrades who helped us in the daily struggle of life.”

    Colonel William H. Talley remained in the Air Force until his retirement in December 1981, serving 26 years. The Talleys moved to a Wesley Towers Heritage Home in May 2012.

***

William Talley's ribbons

Hero or Not?

    Bill Talley might not call himself a hero. But others are not so quick to exclude him. Senior District Judge William “Buck” Lyle nominated Talley for an Armed Forces Hero award, which he received at the Central Kansas American Red Cross Heroes Award banquet in June.

   “I didn’t know Bill until this year,” said Judge Lyle, who flew 163 missions in B-52s in Vietnam. “I read an article about him in The Salina Journal, after he’d given a talk at the Salina Rotary. … He had been shot down in Vietnam and spent almost a year in the Hanoi Hilton. I didn’t know him, but he was already my hero. Three of my classmates from the Air Force Academy had spent time in the Hanoi Hilton, and I knew what that meant. … I met him for the first time when the Red Cross was filming both Bill and me for a video they were putting together for the banquet. Since then, I know firsthand that Bill is a great guy with a sharp mind and a great sense of humor.”

   Since meeting, the two have gotten together to trade Air Force stories. Lyle, too, retired from the Air Force as a Lieutenant Colonel, then was squad commander of the 117th Air Refueling Squadron based at Forbes Field in Topeka, leading a squadron to Desert Shield and Desert Storm. There are plenty of war stories to go around when the two get together.

    “After getting to know him, I was right: He is a hero,” Judge Lyle said. “He’ll be my hero forever.”

American Hero - Part I

Bill Talley

In honor of Veteran's Day, I'd like to share a feature story about Vietnam POW Bill Talley. I wrote the story for Wesley Towers, the retirement community in Hutchinson where Bill and his wife, Louan, now live. Wesley Towers gave me permission to reprint the story from their Fall 2013 newsletter, Tapestry. (I've been writing for Tapestry for nearly 25 years.) As a side note, Bill's wife, Louan, grew up in Stafford and then lived in Stafford while Bill was imprisoned in Vietnam.

Because it's long, I will print it in two parts. Come back tomorrow for the "rest of the story." Remembering veterans and their families on this day, including my late father-in-law, Melvin Fritzemeier, who served in the Korean Conflict. 

***
Hero or Not?

    Bill Talley was like many young boys who grew up in the Great Plains in the 1930s and ‘40s. Looking up at the wide open Oklahoma sky, he’d imagine becoming one of those flying aces of World War II featured on the news reels before Saturday movie matinees. He carefully glued together model airplanes, adding the decals for the Flying Fortress or the F-47 Thunderbolt, and he dreamed of soaring.

    Midwestern practicality trumps dreams, so when he graduated from high school in the small town of Sayre, Okla., he opted to study pre-veterinary medicine at Oklahoma A & M College to build upon the passion for animals he discovered as an FFA member.  

    He didn’t know that Air Force ROTC would forever change his life. He just thought he was fulfilling a requirement for all male students at land grant universities of the time. He chose Air Force ROTC over Army ROTC, remembering those dreams of flying and the handsome heroes from those matinee movie reels.

   He made the Air Force his career. In 1972, Air Force Lieutenant Colonel William H. Talley was shot down near Hanoi, Vietnam, and became a prisoner of war.

    He says he isn’t a hero. He saves the “hero” label for his friends and mentors.

    This is Talley’s story. You can decide whether or not to call him hero. 

**

    When Talley finished his second year of college, his ROTC commanding officer encouraged him to give up his plans to become a veterinarian and pursue the military as a career.

    “He was the epitome of a military man,” Talley recalled. “He was a tall, handsome, well-dressed Air Force guy with rows of medals on his uniform. He advised me to go into advanced ROTC, telling me that I would be subject to the draft if I started vet school. … I thought about it. Nobody was knocking at my door, wanting me to be a veterinarian. This man I admired was telling me that he thought I would be a good fit for advanced ROTC. So that’s what I did.”

   Talley earned his bachelor’s degree in biological sciences, and then was commissioned through the Air Force ROTC on May 28, 1955. He married Louan Jenkins in June 1955 and moved to active duty that August.

   “I didn’t originally plan on a career in the Air Force,” Talley said. “But I had 20/20 vision, and they were ready to send me to pilot training. What young guy wouldn’t think it was the epitome of life to become a jet fighter pilot? On weekends, I’d take an airplane out and fly across the country. I’d look down and see all those cars and trucks, looking like ants traveling down the road. I could fly as far in an hour as it took them driving all day. I was hooked.”

RF-101C Voodoo. Photo from http://heritageflightgeardisplays.wordpress.com

Pilot wings

    Talley earned his pilot wings in September 1956. He completed advanced fighter training and reconnaissance school. His first overseas assignment was May 1959 to June 1962, flying reconnaissance missions out of Laon Air Force Base in France in RF-101 Voodoo planes equipped with cameras, not guns. At the time, the Voodoo was the fastest operational airplane in the world, flying at one and a half times the speed of sound.

    The Talleys were the typical military family, moving from assignment to assignment and moving up the ranks. After consulting with Louan, Bill decided to make the Air Force his career. He set a goal of becoming a Major by his 20-year mark in the service. In reality, it took him only 17 years to make Lieutenant Colonel.

    Talley completed F-105 Thunderchief Combat Crew and Wild Weasel Training before deploying to Southeast Asia, where he flew 151 combat missions as an F-105 pilot with the 44^th Tactical Fighter Squadron out of Korat Royal Thai AFB, Thailand, from November 1969 to March 1970.

    He then came back to the States and was stationed at McConnell AFB in Wichita.

    “It was Easter week, 1972. I had completed a 10-month tour of duty and a temporary duty to Korat, flying missions in Laos and North Vietnam. U.S. forces were being withdrawn from Southeast Asia. I had been selected for a promotion. On Good Friday, I was verbally told of a new assignment. I intended for it to be my last assignment in the Air Force. I planned to retire at the end of that assignment with 22 years active duty. I didn’t plan to return to Southeast Asia.

    “However, on Easter weekend, the North Vietnamese Army began a large-scale offensive across the demilitarized zone into South Vietnam. Our squadron was put on alert. Four days later, I deployed again to Korat.”

   Neither Bill nor Louan was worried about him going to Southeast Asia again. Bill knew it was part and parcel to go where he was needed. As a military family, Louan, 15-year-old son Mike and 12-year-old daughter Susan had plenty of practice at waving goodbye as Bill bounded up the steps of his F-105 and took off into a world they could only imagine.

   “It’s just like with anything else,” Bill said. “You never think anything is going to happen to you. Even though I’d been in plenty of combat situations when I was diving toward the earth while bullets were coming at me and tracers were whizzing by, I never thought about being shot down or killed.”

    Talley says he wasn’t superstitious then. And he isn’t today, even though it was on his 13^th mission of that tour of duty that his plane was hit by a missile over Hanoi. The mission on May 11, 1972, was his 182^nd as a pilot.

 Shot down

     “My backseater Major Jim Padgett (electronic warfare officer) and I were flying a surface-to-air-missile suppression mission in an F-105 when we were shot down by a MIG near Hanoi,” Talley recalled. “I asked Jim if he was ready to eject.  … We were in a valley, and I knew we couldn’t clear the next mountaintop, so I initiated the ejection.

   “I never saw Jim’s chute. … I heard an explosion and looked over my left shoulder and saw a ball of fire, our airplane. As I came down, I hit a boulder hard, banging up my knee. My parachute was hung in a tree, and as I was trying to pull it out, I heard a call on my radio. I answered, and the pilot said he had a good fix on my location. … I climbed to the top of the mountain, which was steep, and I had to go part of the way on all fours. But, when I got to the top of the mountain, there wasn’t a good place to hide. I looked over the edge of the cliff and saw another large rock with a ground hole under it that was large enough for me to crawl through. The hiding place gave me enough room to lay with my feet curled in a fetal position.”

    He waited for the rescue radio call.

    “By dusk, I had given up. While hiding, I could hear the Vietnamese calling in a kind of yodel. The sounds got closer, and after dark, I heard footsteps nearby five or six times. At first light (May 12, 1972), I crawled out from underneath the rock, extended the antenna on my radio and heard someone calling for me. I answered, and then I got back under the rock. My hopes were up, and I thought someone would be there within an hour.

Captured

     “Just before noon, I believe, there were rifle shots around me. I laid still for a couple of minutes, thinking they might go away. Then, I thought they might be trying to shoot into the hole I had crawled in. So, I wiggled out, stood, and saw about 20 Vietnamese circling and more running toward me. I raised my hands to surrender. The Vietnamese took off my flying suit and boots, tied my arms behind my back, and we started walking down the mountain.”

    Talley walked over the rugged terrain with no shoes and was led by his captors through Vietnamese villages for the next three days, where villagers kicked him, hit him with sticks and rocks and spit in his face. After he’d walked on a bad knee for three days with little food and water, he collapsed.

   “The guards put me in an ox cart to ride for an hour or so, then transferred me to an Army truck. I could see the Big Dipper and the North Star, I could smell the salt air, and I knew we were going south along the ocean. But after walking three days, then riding in a truck about 30 hours, I had no idea where I was when the truck stopped.”

This undated photo is an aerial view of Hoa Lo prison and hangs in the museum entry. Most of the prison has been torn down. Photo by Wyatt Olson/Stars and Stripes. Retrieved from www.stripes.com

Hanoi Hilton

    Talley had arrived at the infamous Hanoi Hilton, the Vietnam prison.

***

TOMORROW:  The story continues. Bill Talley talks about how his faith and fellow prisoners helped him make it through months of captivity in the infamous Hanoi Hilton. 

The Road Home

I always love the road toward home.

But the last few days, the road seems paved with more gold than a mall jewelry store.

Whether the sky was drab as the 0.70 of rain fell this week or whether the white puffy clouds were posed in the sunshine of a cerulean sky, autumn has been a celebration of beauty.

The time to appreciate it is now. As the winds blow, the leaves will let go of their fragile grip on branches. And winter will come with its icy grip.

Sunset - November 4, 2013

Like a sunset, the scene shifts subtly, second by second. And it will be a different kind of beauty ...

The same sunset - maybe 5 minutes later

If only I open my eyes.

Apple Butter Pie Bars

The year was 1923. In May, a plane flew from New York to San Diego in the first nonstop transcontinental flight. President Warren G. Harding suddenly fell ill while returning from a trip to Alaska and then died on August 2, while in office.  Scientists developed a vaccine for whooping cough. Federal spending was at $3.14 billion, while the unemployment rate was at 2.4 percent. The cost of a first-class stamp was a whopping 2 cents.

And the Stafford United Methodist Women first organized a fundraiser to support church missions.

On Saturday, November 9, the Stafford UMW will celebrate 90 years of fundraisers with its church bazaar. This year's version is from 10 AM to 1 PM in the church basement.

The first fundraisers were banquets, since the church basement was one of the larger places in Stafford. Nobody seems to know when the annual bazaar started, but it's been more than 32 years (since I've been around that long).

It's pretty amazing when you think about it: For 90 years, United Methodist Women (and men these days) have worked together to accomplish a common goal.

One of the long-time traditions is UMW Apple Butter. This version is a sweet and spicy combination of applesauce, sugar, spices and the secret ingredient - red hots. The apple butter you find in the grocery aisles just can't compare.
Apple butter will again be offered for sale on Saturday. So will frozen apple pies, ready for the buyers to bake for their own Thanksgiving or Christmas tables.

Yesterday, I spent all day in my own kitchen making mini loaves of quick breads, snack mixes, and dozens of cookies to sell at our packaged food table. I have another baking day on the calendar this week to make yeast breads. (My back is protesting, so I don't think it will be today!)

When I saw this recipe for Apple Butter Pie Bars, I knew it was the perfect vehicle for Stafford UMW Apple Butter. And it was. (But, if you're not lucky enough to live close enough to get your own jar of our special blend, you can substitute a commercial apple butter).

These bars are the best the first day, when the bottom crust is crisper. But the flavors are wonderful from start to finish, even if you don't use all the bars at once.

If you are in the Stafford vicinity, you are cordially invited to the bazaar on Saturday from 10 to 1. We'll be serving homemade cinnamon rolls and coffeecakes for your morning coffee break (or a break from the first day of pheasant and quail hunting!) And we'll have chicken and noodles, ham & beans and vegetable soup for lunch, along with sandwiches and homemade pie.

Come help us celebrate 90 years of fellowship and fundraising for missions - here at home and beyond!

Apple Butter Pie Bars

Modified from the blog, Crazy for Crust

Crust:
1/2 cup butter, softened
1 1/2 cups flour
1/4 cup sugar
1/2 tsp. salt

Filling:
1 1/2 cups Stafford UMW apple butter (or other cinnamon apple butter)
1/2 cup walnuts, chopped

Topping:
1/2 cup butter, softened
1 cup flour
1/2 cup brown sugar
1/2 cup oatmeal
1 tsp. cinnamon

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Spray 9- by 13-inch pan with baking spray and set aside.

For crust: Combine dry ingredients, mixing to incorporate. Using a pastry blender, cut in the butter until the mixture is well blended. Press into the bottom of the prepared pan. Bake for 15 minutes.

While the crust is baking, prepare the topping. Combine all dry ingredients, mixing to incorporate. Using the pastry blender, cut in the butter until the mixture forms coarse crumbs.

After the 15 minutes of baking, remove the crust from the oven. Spread the apple butter evenly over the baked layer. Sprinkle with walnuts (or other nuts). Sprinkle the topping evenly over the filling and press gently to compact. Bake for an additional 20 to 25 minutes until topping is golden brown.

Cool completely before removing from pan. Cut into squares.

***

Another favorite recipe using UMW Apple Butter is this coffee cake. You'll want to buy several jars of apple butter to have on hand.  (And, again, if you must, you can use commercial apple butter in this recipe.)

Apple Butter Coffee Cake

***

Today, I'm linked to Wake Up Wednesdays through Wichita blogger Ashley's Kitchen Meets Girl blog. Click on the link to see tons of other tried-and-true recipes.

Not All Fun & Games by Kinley Marie

Hi! Kinley here again.  My time at Grandma's and Grandpa's house was not all fun and games. I had work to do. 

Grandma needed my help in the kitchen. We made Pretzel Snacks, which Grandma took to a grants reception for South Central Community Foundation. (I don't know why she didn't take me. I stayed home and kept Grandpa company.) I also helped with meal preparation. I like sitting on the counter and helping.

When you're doing all that cooking, you have to load and unload the dishwasher a bunch of times. I was a pro at helping with that, since that's one of my chores at home for Mommy and Daddy.

When you cook at home, it often means a trip to the grocery store. I learned about shopping locally at Paul's Grocery. I just might have gotten a snack. But I had to wait until we paid for the animal crackers before I could eat them.

I also did a good job transferring wet clothes from the washing machine to the dryer. Sometimes, those towels were very "heaby" and I told Grandma that. But I was strong and I still got it done!

Grandma's dollies don't get out to play much when I'm not there, so I'm sure they were glad I came to visit. We also helped rearrange the magnets on Grandma's refrigerator. It needed to be done.

I checked  out the baby's crib to make sure it was nice and comfy before I put the baby down for a nap.

I must admit that I wasn't too enthused about one of the jobs Grandpa had for me. He thought I could be a cow girl. The veterinarian was there working calves with Grandpa and Jake. I had my boots and everything, but I did not like the noise they made. I held onto Grandma very tight and said, "Kinley hide." But it was OK to sit in the pickup cab for a little while. 

I wasn't so sure what to think about the cats this time. I liked Boots from a distance, and I would say, "Kinley pet." But then, when he'd get close, I would change my mind and say, "No, no, NO!"

I did like another job with Grandpa. I went with him to eat breakfast at Joan's and greet all his friends. I had pancakes, which were yummy. I only got a little bit of syrup on my jacket. (Grandpa forgot to take it off!) We also made a trip to the bank. I got a pink balloon and a sucker. I knew just what to do with both of them!

I'm pretty sure I was a big help to both Grandma and Grandpa. I don't know how they will get along without me now that I'm back home.

Until next time,
Kinley

***

A note from Grandma. This concludes Kinley's reports from her stay at Grandma and Grandpa's house. For some of you, that's probably welcome news. However, one of my goals with my blog is to provide a picture of our Kansas farm and our family. In this day and age, when it seems most of our photos stay on our phone or imprisoned on the digital camera card, I hope this will serve as a remembrance for Kinley and for us. And, maybe some of you out there can relate to this doting Grandma and Grandpa who loved sharing a week with a special little girl.

And, now ... back to regular programming, including moving cattle home from pasture, recipes and more.

K-S-U Wildcats by Kinley

Hi again! It's Kinley, reporting from Manhattan.

 

I must confess that I did not make it to the K-State vs. Iowa State game on Saturday. My Mommy and I were home cleaning. When my Daddy left home to come to the game, I was dusting the low spots, while Mommy got the higher real estate. I also helped my Mommy make corn muffins and pumpkin chocolate chip cookies.  (Last week, I went incognito and did my cooking as an owl. This week, I just had to cook in my regular clothes.) Mommy had to make the chili by herself because I needed to take a nap. I was getting ready to have my GG (Great Grandma Carol) and my Daddy's family come to dinner on Sunday. I got to play with my cousin and fellow flower girl, Hannah.

October 27, 2013

Anyway, I did get to go to the K-State football game on October 26. Sorry I am so slow in reporting the homecoming festivities.

There is a lot to watch at the K-State football games. Even though most people are there to watch football, I think I like the band the best. I am pretty good at keeping a beat. Just ask my Grandmas.

My Grandma Christy and I were ready when our Wildcats moved the ball down the field. We moved our arms just right when the announcer said, "Good for a Wildcat first down!"

My Daddy has been working with me when we score a touchdown. I know just what to do: Arms straight up in the air!

I explained all the finer points of the game to my Grandma Christy and Grandpa Alan.

And, I also provided my insight about the Wildcat offense and its two-quarterback system to my Grandma and Grandpa Fritzemeier. I must have been a good luck charm because the 'Cats got a win, 35-12 over the West Virginia Mountaineers!

After the game, we got our photo taken outside Bill Snyder Family Stadium. I think it's not just Bill Snyder's family. My family seems to show up at that stadium quite regularly, too.

October 26, 2013

My Grandmas both thought I would have liked Fort Riley Day on Saturday, since there were three bands. A military band joined the Pride of Wildcat Land for the pregame patriotic fanfare.

And then the Iowa State band, the K-State marching band and Fort Riley worked together during the halftime show, including playing Stars and Stripes Forever, where they unfurled a giant flag.

Even Willie the Wildcat was dressed in camouflage. Maybe I'll get to go to Fort Riley Day next year. I wasn't sure whether K-State could win without me, but they did, 41-7. 

Until next time,
Kinley Marie

Toddler Tour Guide by Kinley Marie

Hello! It's Kinley Marie again - your tour guide for toddler activities in South Central Kansas. Yesterday, I told you about our trip to a pumpkin patch.

Today, we move on to the Quivira National Wildlife Refuge, which is only a few miles from my Grandma and Grandpa Fritzemeier's house. We followed the arrows to the Quivira headquarters.

The Quivira National Wildlife Refuge consists of 22,135 acres in Stafford, Rice and Reno Counties. I am working on counting, but I can't count that high.

Once inside the headquarters building, I was greeted by some rather large birds. I figured if I didn't look at the turkey, maybe he wouldn't look at me either.

The place was a little confusing. they told me not to touch the sandhill crane.

And then Grandpa told me I could touch a bunch of other stuff, like a deer skeleton and some furs.

I hear that it's almost time for the whooping cranes to come through Quivira. They must not have known I was coming or they would have made it a point to be there when I was. But, even though I didn't meet any whooping cranes in person, I discovered they are taller than me. So maybe it's just as well that our visits didn't coincide.(I guess Grandpa would have protected me, though, since he is taller than a whooping crane.)

Even though I couldn't meet any whooping cranes in person, I could hear how they sounded. I pushed the buttons a lot of times. I did NOT like how the bullfrogs sounded. But I kept pushing the button so I could run away.

Grandpa helped me find the pelicans out on the marsh. I watched some fly away.

We didn't drive around the refuge this time. It was kind of cold and windy, and I probably couldn't have seen much from the backseat anyway. It will give me something to do the next time I'm at Grandma and Grandpa's house.

Until next time,
Kinley Marie