The Autumn air is refreshing. It holds the promise of the holidays. Hope is in the smells and the leaves. The dappled sunlight plays through the limbs of the trees. Suprised by joy, we venture into the future. At times, we know what we do not know. Our counsel is true, we think. Buffeted by chance and time, we believe we understand the future. Surprise is a constant in our journey. Happiness is peeking around the corner at us. The chapters of our time turn like the leaves on the trees. We may not realize the chapter has changed.

Fall teaches me that I will never complete my education. I learn new things daily. Walking as a human on Earth is a constant surprise. Life does not come with an instruction manual. What you think is going to happen often does not. When you are certain that something will not happen, it does. The eyes of Texas are upon you. People are watching.

The Preacher gathered his little flock in the Woods. They gathered seeking acceptance. They had come from fear. The Leader cried out for the blood of his enemies. Retribution was his lodestar. The church in the Woods was a sanctuary. The Preacher was prophetic. The Woods residents came wearing their best. Mr. Mole had on his best suit. His spectacles were perched precariously on his nose. He carried his copy of The Wind In The Willows. Mr. Mole often quoted Edgar Allen Poe. Mr. Mole had heard that the Preacher accepted all of God’s creation. The Preacher had no fear. Mr. Badger joined Mr. Mole in his vest and leather hat. Mr. Badger knew cold weather was coming. Mr. Badger had told Mr. Toad to dock the boat on the lake in the Woods so that they would have a means of transportation home after the meeting.

‘I am so pleased you all could come,’ the Preacher said. ‘Without our conclave are wolves in sheep’s clothing,’ the Preacher said. ‘The message of God is to love each other as you love yourself,’ the Preacher said. ‘Fear not the ravings of an unstable mind,’ the Preacher said. ‘All are welcome here and no one shall be denied, the Preacher said. ‘Money is not the secret of the Creator,’ the Preacher proclaimed. ‘Capitalism is not the doctrine of Christ,’ the Preacher noted. ‘Good is coming if you can receive it,’ the Preacher promised. ‘God created the animal kingdom and the human family to live together in harmony,’ the Preacher promised. ‘Hate is nowhere in the Bible,’ said the Preacher. ‘A storm cloud is passing over but will soon be gone, and the Sun will shine again,’ the Preacher said.

‘I loved what the Preacher said,’ Mr. Mole said. ‘He accepts all of God’s creation without favorites or cliques,’ Mr. Mole noted. ‘I felt welcome as a nearsighted Mole,’ Mr. Mole noted. ‘I think we must learn to love each other or go into the abyss,’ Mr. Mole said solemnly.

‘This Halloween, we shall camp in the Woods on Halloween night,’ said Chet. ‘We will dress in our Halloween costumes and drink hot cider and Merlot that Neva J will provide,’ Chet laughed. ‘I will be camping as the Lost In Space Robot,’ Chet informed. ‘We will build a campfire and tell ghost stories,’ Chet grinned. ‘I have a doozy regarding the Headless Horseman, Chet winked. ‘I saw the real Headless Horseman last year in the Woods,’ Chet said somberly. ‘He held a Jack-O-Lantern under his arm to play the role of his head,’ Chet said with a shudder. ‘When he spoke to me, the words came from the Jack-O-Lantern’s gaping mouth,’ Chet said. ‘The Jack-O-Lantern said for me to gather my friends this Halloween for a scary event,’ Chet noted. ‘Jack O said he would be bringing a surprise guest,’ Chet explained.

‘Have another glass of Merlot and some more Oscar Mayer Weiners straight out of the package,’ Neva J admonished. ‘Some of the Woods Family are joining us for the ghost story, Neva J mentioned. ‘Mr. Badger and Mr. Mole are on their way, along with the Wolfman,’ Neva J smiled. ‘Wolfy, as he likes to be called, is a Maltese in Wolf’s clothing,’ Neva J winked as she quaffed a tumbler of Merlot. ‘I went to school with Wolfy, and he was a hit with all of the girls,’ Neva J laughed. ‘Wolfy could spin a fantastic yarn that for a moment you believed,’ Neva J said. ‘He had been to exotic places and succeeded in many endeavours, although we were still in high school,’ Neva J explained. ‘Before his Tall Tale was completed, you understood that he would have to be at least three times his age to have accomplished all he had proclaimed,’ Neva J said with certainty. ‘Wolfy and I dated for a while,’ Neva J said. ‘His outward persona hid an inner child,’ Neva J noted.

‘Greetings, all I am pleased to see you could make it,’ Jack O said. ‘My good friend Wolfy will be joining us shortly as he is currently howling at the full moon,’ Jack O said with a wide grin. ‘Have you seen anything scary so far?’ Jack O asked. ‘There are reports of Frankenstein in the Woods tonight,’ Jack O said. ‘I hear you will smell the cigar smoke before you see Frank,’ Jack O noted. ‘He is only frightening until you know him,’ Jack O explained. ‘Frank N. Stein loves vintage Merlot and is coming, I think, for Neva J’s supply and a lovely evening with Wolfy and fine cigars,’ Jack O explained.

‘Greetings all, I had to stop to admire the full Moon and howl my pleasure to the sky,’ Wolfy said with a wide, toothy smile. ‘Try as I might, I can not resist a good howl,’ Wolfy laughed. ‘Isn’t Jack O a hoot with his head under his arm,’ Wolfly asked. ‘I am told I have a Maltese body, but inside I have a little wolf in me,’ Wolfy said.

‘Yo Ho to all,’ Mr. Badger said. ‘I hope Mr. Mole and Mr. Toad and I are not too late for the ghost story,’ Mr. Badger said. ‘Moley loves a good ghost story,’ Mr. Badger laughed. ‘Mr. Mole reads Edgar Allen Poe regularly,’ Mr. Badger said. ‘Moley is a bibliophile,’ Mr. Badger exclaimed. ‘He has read more ghost stories than any of us have heard,’ Mr. Badger laughed a hearty laugh. ‘Mr. Mole loves the story of the Tell-Tale Heart and The Raven,’ Mr. Badger noted. ‘Moley has several pairs of glasses staged around his house to ensure that he always has a pair for reading,’ Mr. Badger informed. ‘Mr. Mole is a Poe aficionado,’ Mr. Badger said. ‘He lives, eats, and breathes Poe,’ Mr. Badger winked knowingly. ‘Moley has won several Poe contests where the competition is to recite from memory long Poe passages from his obscure and famous treatise,’ Mr. Badger said proudly. ‘Mr. Mole has fine art paintings of Edgar Allen Poe throughout his house, Mr. Badger informed us for understanding. ‘Mr. Mole is a second cousin of Edgar Allen Poe, twice removed,’ Mr. Badger said.

It is a crisp morning. Autumnal and well-received. My favorite weather. My favorite season. Holidays are in the air. It is time to sally forth. Meet the moment and immerse yourself in the fall weather. The Cubs play today. They are two games behind in a best-of-five game competition. It is win or go home. MJ is a Cubs fan. She consumes the games with joy. I glance toward the television as I am passing by. I visited Wrigley Field twice in the ’80s and thoroughly enjoyed both visits. The young men of summer have long retired, and some have died. Yet they and I were full of life in those halcyon days. MJ said we would walk to the ballpark. She noted that on the map, it was only about an inch between our hotel and Wrigley. Three miles later, we arrived. A Hare Krishna person offered me a book for free, and I took it; however, he then wanted $30. I gave the book back to him.

I watched the first episode of a streaming show regarding the attack on Israel on October 7th two years ago. It illustrated Palestinians helping a Jewish woman to safety. At the conclusion, the actress portraying the Jewish runner and the Palestinian man clasped hands in solidarity regarding what they had just experienced, where both feared for their lives. Then the image became the actual people holding hands and their reunion of joy with Jewish and Palestinian people united by the Terror that they both endured. The Jewish woman lived in the Kibbutz that was attacked, and the Palestinian man worked in the kitchen of the Kibbutz. They were united by their shared humanity.

We are all on this journey together. Fall is here, and hope surrounds us. Time to settle under the falling leaves and ponder how we might change as the seasons do. I love Autumn and winter clothing. Sweaters and jackets, flannel shirts and leather hats. Time for walks in the Woods and reflection on matters of the heart. We are here for a short time. You can not tell of our brevity by how we build bigger and better. The statues we erect to our time here. We gather more hay into our barns for fear of winter. We see the deprived, hungry, and cold. Rather than help them, we fear we are next.

Work demands much. Often it demands too much. Some lives are subsumed in their career. Work is good, but it is not life. Life is poetry and prose. Life is autumn in the Woods. Thoughts of life and change what comes next. A sense of place. The joy in another’s eyes. Dreams of the future. Fond memories of the past.

October sings its siren song. The serenity of simplicity. The peace of place. The security of roots that go deep and limbs that reach for the sky. A gray squirrel ran across the lawn. He had neither fear nor dread. His life is grounded in his appointed rounds. The Old Man noticed the leaves were falling early in August. Not so now, as October is a week in progress. We are made for peace, not war. War is an unnatural state. When we are full and have lodging, we set our minds on making life better for those who do not enjoy such luxuries. Homelessness is a crime against humanity.

The Cubs are down by two games. Cubs fans are worried. We love the eternal struggle. I reflected on life at Southern Illinois University. I became adept at the political negotiations to survive. MJ and my recent favorite show, The Morning Show with Jennifer Aniston and Reese Witherspoon, reminded me of the snares and traps of office life. Bosses say one thing and mean another. Perception is over 90% of reality. The societal construct of what Board you are on and who you play golf with. Exhausting and illustrating the need for an advocate for working people. I filled that role for most of my career. My dear friend Elizabeth has filled the same role admirably for some time. The poor of the land are faceless to the administration. When they think of staff, they see their staff who, by most standards, have Cadillac Problems. It is the rare leader who gets to know the factory line workers.

Most of us are line workers in life. We are blessed and still looking for the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. The manifest simplicity of life continues. At times, we lose the plot. We become so busy jumping the hurdles of life that we forget the finish line. It is time to walk through the leaves and gaze at the autumn sky. We want so much, we need little. One pair of shoes will keep our feet warm. 20 pairs will feed our ego. Our Ford is great, but wouldn’t the Lincoln be better?

Patience preserves our souls. Moderation is the key. Happy experiences come from new places. Happiness comes from within. There is no magic journey that brings joy, nor is there a pill to take. Joy comes from our satisfied hearts.

The Old Man walked with his friends and reflected on the journey. He had seen preachers who loved money, fine cars, and exquisite clothes. The Preacher bragged about how much his necktie and his shoes. He had little time for the poor of the congregation. He was in his own heaven. The Preacher called his financial bounty God’s Blessings. In reality, the poor of the church did without necessities so that the Preacher could have abundance. He told the flock to do what he told them to do and give money until it hurts, and then they will have monetary blessings like he did. One problem…the poor did not have a church full of hard-working people to give them the money to provide the lifestyle of the Preacher.

It is here, October Rain. Change is happening. Fall woke from its slumber and said it was time to go. Autumn put on its slicker and its yellow rain cap and smoked a pipe. ‘It is a bit hot for October 6th,’ Autumn said thoughtfully as he puffed on his meerschaum pipe. ‘I must shake sleep from my eyes and beard and set about my business,’ A noted. ‘Soon the kiddos will Trick or Treat and I must be prepared,’ A considered. ‘The rain will settle the dust of the hot summer and focus the mind on important matters,’ A smiled. ‘Would you like a cup of mulled cider, Equinox dear?’ Autumn asked his wife. ‘I have been steeping it on the hearth,’ A smiled.

‘I did not sleep well,’ Equinox said. ‘It has been too hot,’ Equinox explained. ‘Usually by October 6th, we have chilly mornings and crisp days in the Woods,’ E laughed. ‘Then leaves are falling dry on to the ground,’ E observed. ‘The Old Man crunches through them on his daily walk,’ E laughed. ‘He snaps thousands of photos,’ Equinox winked. ‘Old Man walks with his Guardian Angel,’ E observed. ‘They laugh and talk as the leaves fall,’ E grinned.

‘Do you think that the rain will hurt the rhubarb?’ Mr. Fox asked Mr. Badger. ‘Tomorrow we must unmoor the boat and take a trip down the river,’ Mr. Fox said. ‘Let’s ask Mr. Mole to join us as he is always up for some messing about in boats,’ Fox exclaimed. ‘Of course Mr. Toad must come if we can pry him away from his motor car,’ Fox observed. ‘Ratty will want to come along if he is not already involved in a fall adventure,’ Fox noted.

‘What a glorious day for a boat ride,’ Mr. Toad exulted. ‘I see Mr. Great Blue Heron and Little Blue as well as Mr. Beaver and the Frog Quartet,’ Mr. Toad enthused. ‘The Frogs are motioning us over to them,’ Mr. Toad laughed. ‘Oh my heavens, this is wonderful indeed, they want me to join them for a solo as they sing back up to my vocal incantations,’ Mr. Toad danced on one foot and then the other with his face toward the sky.

Sunday night was marked by the TV shows Walt Disney’s Wonderful World of Color, Marlin Perkins’ Wild Kingdom, and Lassie. Then thoughts returned to school on Monday morning. The weekend had gone by rapidly, as they all have. This time in October, thoughts were on birthdays and Halloween. Then came Thanksgiving and the boss of all holidays, Christmas. Christmas was another world. Christmas Trees and decorations throughout the town. Santa Claus is coming to your house. Neva J singing, ‘Christmas is coming, the goose is getting fat, will you please put a penny in the old man’s hat. If you haven’t got a penny, a haypenny will do. If you haven’t got a haypenny, God bless you.

I looked at the photos of my classmates at our 50th reunion and instantly saw them as the children we were over 50 years ago. They are frozen in time in my mind’s eye. They have not aged. I remembered their kindness and good humor. I hear the infectious laughs. I recall their enthusiastic cheers for the Eldorado Eagles. When I saw a photo of those who are no longer with us, I was saddened. I could hear the ‘Forever Young’ speak to me as if we were sitting in class. I could see their youthful smiles and hopes for the future.

Life is a mystery. We are young for a moment. We know our moment is special. At times, we do not realize that we are in the midst of our moment while we are waiting for it to begin.

The stage is set. We are in the wings waiting to walk on. We have learned our lines. We have our costume in place. The photographer widens the aperture. The Play is happening while we wait in the wings. The wings are part of the Play. Everything is a scene in the production. Do we hope to start living while life is progressing?

We grow older, but our hearts do not. We love and are loved. We hope and fear and pray. We want to get our part right. We want our lines to count. We want to understand the Secret…

October is a special month. A month I anticipate all year. I was hired on October 10, 1978, at Southern Illinois University @ Carbondale. It is a date that lives in the highlights of the Brooks Family Book. A day that changed our lives. We went from outside looking in the window to having a chair by the fireplace. It was warm and cozy by the fireside of opportunity. We went from having two junker cars to buying an LTD Coupe. A brand new car that was listed for 7K but was reduced to 6K. The car payments were $170 per month, and MJ cried for fear we would not be able to make the payment. We did. Soon we bought a little house. It was a sense of place. It felt good to be a homeowner. The little house had a concrete driveway and a humongous picture window. Three and a half years later, Aaron made his appearance. A six-foot Christmas Tree was strategically placed in front of the herculean picture window. We had arrived. MJ hosted Thanksgiving in our four-room house. One Thanksgiving, we had 24 members of our family. When one person moved, we all shifted. Earl brought smoked meat, and Neva J enjoyed shots of rum that MJ gave her. We were as proud as if we lived in a mansion. To this day, the Thanksgivings in the little house are lodged in my heart.

Aaron’s first Christmas came. We wanted something special. We purchased a handmade Nativity for $100 and thought we spent $1000.00. No one would outdo the Brooks. We had moved into the block and were there to stay. Not everyone had a concrete driveway. We came from poor folks. People who enjoyed going to the Dairy Queen on Friday night. We watched the cars pass by while we ate our nickel ice cream cones. Pride was shunned among the hardscrabble people of Eldorado. We were proud that we knew Jesus and that we earned an honest dollar.

Berl told me after I was hired in Building Services at SIUC that he would like to see me get a good job at the University. He thought I could do better and told me so regularly. Earl asked me why I did not take the Security Police Civil Service Exam. He knew that the Security Police would be much greater than a Building Service Worker I. Years later, Earl became a Building Service Worker I and enjoyed it. Although he did ask me if her was too old for a Security Officer.

I was born on October 24, 1957. For years, it was hard for me to remember if my birth year was 1957 or 1958. We came from Chicago on a Harley-Davidson. We were cool cats. Dad wore a motorcycle cap and carried a gun. Mom wore a red scarf and was so beautiful in the sunlight. I sat in the middle and wondered what it all meant. Eldorado was like another planet. I knew no one, and they did not know me. I had gone from having plenty to having nothing. Neva J could not afford the 20 cents a day for school lunch, so I was the only kid in the first-grade class to carry my lunch in a brown paper bag. Some of my classmates asked me if I did not have only 20 cents, and I thought 20 cents was a lot when you do not have it. President Kennedy was assassinated in November. School let out early. Neva J cried. I had several friends on the block in Chicago. Now I had none, not even 20 cents to buy lunch.

October is rolling along. The baseball playoffs are in play. The month of scary, mysterious creatures and mystical events is upon us. October helps us get our minds off so many unanswered questions in our day-to-day lives. When we see Frankenstein, we understand his motivation. He is misunderstood as we are. Frankenstein was looking for a friend. Someone to smoke a cigar with. A little peace and quiet refuge from a type A wife. Our leaders seem to have such deep motivations that we assume criticism is appropriate. Let your ‘yes’ be ‘yes’ and your ‘no’ be ‘no,’ it has been said. Brevity is a key to communication. We have two ears and one mouth, so we should use them appropriately.

‘The day is exquisite,’ Old Man said. ‘The autumn leaves are brilliant, cool breezes lend to contemplation, ‘the Old Man continued. ‘Thoughts of days gone by and the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,’ the Old Man laughed to himself. ‘I have brought my appetite,’ the Old Man exclamied! ‘I am glad to see you, Mr. Deer,’ the Old Man greeted. ‘My, you have a jaunty hat, Mr. Badger,’ the Old Man continued. ‘Mr. Mole, are those new glasses you are wearing,’ the Old Man asked with a wink. ‘Mr. Toad has a new automobile,’ the Old Man asked. ‘You are quite the racecar driver,’ the Old Man observed.

‘OM, how are you? You’re getting younger,’ Mr. Mole asked. ‘Each time we meet, I see more of the Young Man I first met,’ Mr. Mole observed. ‘I remember when you worked 16+ hours per day to make your bread,’ Mr. Mole grinned. ‘By the way, MJ did make some delicious bread in those halcyon days,’ Mr. Mole laughed so hard his glasses fell forward on his nose.

‘Follow me, OM, and I will show you my recent discovery,’ Mr. Badger said. ‘It is a time machine hidden in the midst of the ancient sandstone,’ Mr. Badger continued. ‘Walk through the tunnel and you will see something amazing,’ Mr. Badger smiled.

‘Hit the deck, you rubberneck,’ Neva J called out. ‘I have the coffee made and the bacon for your bacon sandwich,’ Neva J said as she returned to bed.

‘This year we shall dress as the Wind In The Willows characters,’ Chet said. ‘We will be the talk of the Halloween Party,’ Chet continued. ‘We will have Frankenstein join us, he is sleeping in the guest room since he and his Bride had a disagreement over his cigars,’ Chet winked. ‘Frankenstein thoroughly enjoys an autumn picnic in the woods,’ Chet proclaimed. ‘We will bolster his spirit before he returns to domestic bliss,’ Chet laughed.

‘Cigars for all,’ Frankenstein said with glee.

It is a lovely, warm October day. Neither hot like August nor cool like October. Caught in the middle. Not the first time. Not the last. The hot weather belies the holiday season. The saying of the old guys when I was a boy is that they did not know if it was time to shit or wind their watch. So it goes, change is coming. October 10th is on the horizon. A big day in the Brooks home in 1978. MJ and I were newlyweds and had little money. She donated her teaching services to our church school, and I worked for a Janitorial Service. Upon my first day back to work after three days’ holiday given to me by the Service’s owners, I had two lovely cheeseburgers in my lunch box. I thought that this marriage thing was good. When I complimented my bride, she cautioned that we would not be able to eat a cheeseburger every day due to our limited grocery funds. As Jennifer said last night, life is hard. So when I received the call that I had been hired at Southern Illinois University, I was thrilled. We would have enough money for cheeseburgers. I began my Christian walk in a conservative church. I enjoyed it and became somewhat of a minor celebrity in the congregation of those enjoying their Golden Years. Before the service began, I made a point of shaking hands with everyone in the little country church. They told me I spoke like a miniature adult. I absorbed the tropes of fundamentalist Christian doctrine, which in those days had a lot of love and no fight in it. The pastor was a World War II veteran and was quick to cry over his faith. He accepted everyone, and the results were the expansion of our little congregation by at least 50 Jewish Hippies. Among that group from Chicago, my friend Jeff was a member. As I became a teenager, I had dreams of becoming a minister. I had felt a pull in that direction since the days of Bible School at the Church of Christ in Eldorado, where the teacher asked me to tell my understanding of the Bible story of Jesus on the Mount of Transfiguration. The Bible School Teacher told the class that she had never heard someone so young explain the passage so passionately. I was a Christian from that point in my young life.

Experiences change understanding. I saw hate and divisiveness fill where love once was. Lines were drawn. A tug of war ensued. There were victors and vanquished. Love, forgiveness, and understanding were no longer in the mix. It was time to take sides, the Rev. Jerry Falwell told his congregation in Lynchburg, Virginia. It was time for Christians to become political. I admired Billy Graham, who never wavered from teaching the simple message of salvation. Amazing Grace is my favorite song. I vividly recall when all poor and blue-collar folks were Democrats. The Republican Party seemed to not recognize their existence. Now, religion is equated with which political party you are affiliated with.

In those halcyon days, we attended two church conventions a year. One on Memorial Day and the other on Labor Day. I watched as other young men were called upon to preach, and I was not. During this time, I was preaching at the funerals for our little church. I understood that I was a background character and liked it as it fit my introvert nature. The demarcation between us and them offended me. We were all God’s Children. My understanding was changing.

University was a revelation. So many people of every skin shade and faith, and no faith. I loved the international community. An African student told me that all of the international students wanted to work for me because I had no prejudice. I have never received a greater compliment and have tried to live up to it. God is no respector of persons, and we are all on the same road. God must laugh when he hears our petty and inane grievances about each other. I saw that women, minorities, and handicapped people were marginalized. I tried to right the wrongs done to marginalized folks with tremendous ability.

Serene is the word for this Friday. The Great White Heron is hunting dinner. The Frog Quartet is preparing for their Friday Night Performance. Mr. Beaver has taken the day off to attend his daughter’s wedding. Peace prevails in the Animal Kingdom. There is no us and them. There are no Christian Nationalists and Progressive Christians. ‘Nothing shall hurt or destroy in all of my holy mountain saith the Lord.’ ‘The wolf shall lie down with the lamb.’ Job scrapes his boils with potsherds. Job knows there is a better way. Job remembers the life of peace and plenty.

‘Demons will charm you with a smile for a while.’ So goes the stirring Broadway song. We remember the protectors of our youth. Someone who stood up for us when others were silent. The person who took our part when others averted their eyes from our plight.

Politicians sell their strength as being our protector. The proof of the pudding is in the eating. We do not travel this rocky road alone. Many have taken an interest in our welfare. Often without goading or a hidden agenda. As Sally Field said when she received the Academy Award for Best Actress in a leading role in her 1979 portrayal of Norma Rae, ‘You like me, you really like me.’

Have you received a telephone call from an old friend only to discover they want to sell you something? Has a powerful person in your organization suddenly become your friend, only to reveal themselves as needing something from you once the commercial ends? Those precious guardians who stand by you with nothing to gain are more precious than the Gold of Ophir.

We wear a brave mask. We speak courageously. We carry a big stick. Inwardly, we are the little fat kid with thick glasses at the back of the classroom. We need a protector to walk alongside us. Age puts things in perspective. Not so many people to please and get an affirmative glance from. Money does not color the transaction. The Ladder’s Rungs have been climbed. Yet are we good enough, as Al Franken’s character Stuart Smalley asked on Saturday Night Live?

Watch the Leader who portends his invincibility to the masses. He is smarter than others and better educated. He needs no counsel, as his counsel is his own brain. Experts do not understand what he understands instinctively from allegorical information. Inside is a little afraid child. The child is determined to punish those who do not agree with him. The child broaches no dissent. Accepts no varying opinion. Fear marks his path. Who will rip off the mask, he thinks. They must be stopped before that happens. Who will reveal that he does not like peas and carrots and will not eat them?

‘I think we have picked a glorious fall day to walk in the Woods,’ Guardian Angel said. ‘It is warm now, but that will change, and soon the snow will cover the ground,’ GA noted. ‘I have been by your side since you sat in front of the three heart doctors in Chicago,’ GA said. ‘Neva J feared you would not make it to Evansville, Indiana, due to what the Ambulance Driver said,’ GA continued. ‘I was certain that you would make it and have a fulfilling life,’ GA grinned. ‘Nothing is going to harm you, not while I am around,’ Guardian Angel sang with a lilt.