The Supreme court ruled 7-2 against freedom...wow

I’m a proud American. Our founders created a wonderful nation. Although imperfect, they forged together a diverse group of people and created the experiment we call America. It’s quite amazing. In the continual process of creating this nation, we have had to make a number of course corrections.

Today in a board meeting, I learned of a fascinating fact that hit home to me.  Consider this, in the historic town of Fredericksburg, Virginia, at the corner of Charles and William Street, there is a reminder of America’s tattered past. On this corner lies a stone that is said to be an auction block. This solid piece of rock is where  a person would be placed for observation in front of a bidding public.  Human beings were sold to other human beings for the purpose of work, the purpose of property and for the purpose of being a slave.  Sadly, in this era, it was not looked upon as the horror it is. In fact, it was considered a right. In 1857, Dred Scott who's case went to the 

The Auction Block in Fredericksburg, VA

Supreme court, was a slave seeking his freedom.  His first attempt to go to trial to sue for his freedom was in 1847. Ten years later, after a decade of appeals and court reversals, his case was taken up by the United States Supreme Court. In this infamous case, the court decided that all people of African ancestry, slaves as well as those who were free could never become citizens of the United States and therefore could not sue in federal court. The court also ruled that the federal government did not have the power to prohibit slavery in its territories. Scott, needless to say, remained a slave. The amazing thing is the case was a 7-2 victory for the pro-slavery movement. Slavery supporters believed they had a victory. I'm sure pro-slavery people said, "That settles it, it's the law of the land".

Today, we ask ourselves how could a nation, founded on Christian principles, steer so far off course? The interesting fact about this stone is that it lies in the shadow of the steeple of St. George’s Episcopal Church, the home church of Mary Ball Washington, mother of our first president. In the view of the cross of Christ,  people would gather on Friday for a slave auction and attend church two blocks over on Sunday in good conscience.

But consider this, today, much like slavery of old, a tragedy has been happening under the same guise of “rights” similar to the argument of the  slave holders. It is Abortion. We become uncomfortable when we hear or even use the word. We don’t like it. In fact, many main stream Christian pastors and church leaders, even in my hometown, are afraid to confront it. Are we cowards or have we  just decided to cooperate with secular society. According to the CDC, “In 2014, 652,639 legal induced abortions were reported in the US from 49 reporting areas.* The abortion rate for 2014 was 12.1 abortions per 1,000 women aged 15–44 years, and the abortion ratio was 186 abortions per 1,000 live births.”

Whether your pro-life or pro-choice, these amounts are staggering. Again, notice the white wash on word usage by the names of both camps. Why not just say, "pro-abortion", "anti-abortion"?

Had I lived in the 1800s, I hope, amidst all the backlash, I would have had the courage to say slavery was wrong. By saying that, I would have been kicking against an institution. But thankfully,  there were people who said "No"! In fact, it was the church that awakened the anti-slavery movement; not to mention the brave slaves who sought their freedom.

Well it’s now 2018 and since Roe vs. Wade a case much like the Dred Scott case, which said a mother’s baby in her womb was not a person and therefore not a citizen and therefore without rights. It is estimated that there have been 60,069,971 abortions. Someday in the future, I believe people will read this blog and say, at least he had the courage to stand up against the surge of abortion, despite it being the law of the land since 1973.

We all know someone who may have had an abortion. Many were deceived or uniformed of what they were actually doing. I can only try to understand the emotional burden that must come with such a decision. Those persons will find no judgement, no condemnation from me. Instead, they will hear a message of hope and healing. I'm proud to support a ministry, Salem Pregnancy Care Center that offers programs such as Her Time to Heal.

To my African-American friends, praise God this nation changed and made a course-correction. Your heritage came hard. I admire your ancestors and Dr. King for their insistence on human rights.

**New Hampshire and California do not report abortions statistics.

My last day...almost

It was hay season and I was 16 years old. On a warm June morning, i was managing a 70 acre hay field with a 1969 John Deere 4020. This was  a tractor that came into production in 1964 and they continued to make until 1972. It literally came off the assembly line 2 years after I was born. This hydro static power shift model weighed approximately 9560 lbs. Graduating from a little snapper lawn mower from home, this machine was powerful and gave me the feeling of power! If you've worked with any powerful equipment, you know the feeling I'm talking about.

So, on this Saturday, my boss, friend and agricultural mentor, Carl Hicks, asked me to use the 4020, which had round bale forks, to pick up and organize the hay. I hopped on the  JD, cranked her up and went about my simple task.

Being in the foothills of North Carolina, the pasture that I was managing had hills with terraces.  Terraces were an idea of many agricultural departments in the 30s & 40s for the purpose of slowing down erosion. Not only did it slow down erosion, but it also required you to slow down and manage the crossing  with a tractor.  The round hay bailing would not discriminate where it would unload its bales and many of the 1100 lb bales would be above, in or around these terraces.

So to share the interesting details about this story, I must explain about the synchro-range nature of gears on the John Deere 4020. Synchro-Range requires the tractor to be stopped and clutch depressed to select one of four shift stations. Once a gear is selected the tractor can be shifted on the move between the two forward gears (and single reverse in stations 1 and 2) by using the clutch. If you know anything about most smaller /older tractors, to change to a higher gear, you have to stop, choose the higher gear and if its really high, you have to be sure you don't drop the clutch and cause a stall.

I was just about finished getting the bales up and saved the more difficult bales that were on a steep grade for last. This particular bale was just above a terrace. On an incline, I backed up to the bale, lowering the forks on the lift and secured the bale and raised the lift. I mistakenly took the tractor from reverse (while stopped) quickly into 4th gear. The incline I was on and the amount of throttle I used had a bad calculus. Ole green choked. Here I was on an incline, a 9560 lb tractor with an 1100 lb bale of hay. When the engine stops running, the brakes are useless. On this incline, the tractor began rolling backwards. I attempted to jam the tractor in to park. That wouldn't work as the speed began to pick up at a rapid pace. Then the tractor hit the terrace, the steering wheel turned violently and the next few seconds are a complete blur to me. Based on the picture, you can see that 10,000 lbs + rolled. I remember being underneath the tractor.  In shock from what had happened, I remember walking across the pasture to tell Carl what had happened. Scared of what he might say or do, I had compounded fright. But Carl didn't yell because frankly, it scared him almost as bad as it scared me.

I learned a number of lessons that day. Slow down for one! There are other lessons I could share but I'll keep those in a secret notebook.

So 34 years later I can honestly reflect and tell you that it was almost my last day. In true John Deere form, Carl hooked up a John Deere 1020 with a chain and pulled the 4020 over, allowed time for the oil to re-position in the engine....and yes, she cranked right up. It had a few nicks and scratches but it was running within hours.

The responsibility that I received working for Carl carried with me over all these years. I still have agriculture in my blood.  When I see him (which is not often), we still talk about that day on Williams Road in Davie County and how it could have been so much worse. I thank God it was not my time to go. Writing this I think about all the experiences I've had since that time.

I got back on the tractor. Carl made me. It was kinda like getting back on a horse that bucked you off. It was a day of lessons, but thank God it wasn't my last.

12,000 Have passed

I use a calendar calculator occasionally to calculate contracts and due diligence dates for real estate related transactions. Using a website, I thought I'd have fun and figure how many days I've known my wife. I met Elizabeth on a balmy August 4th Saturday in 1984. Ronald Reagan was President, Van Halen's famous album 1984 was most popular, the cost to go to a movie was around $2.50. Earlier that year,  this thing called a personal computer, the Apple Macintosh was making its debut. Like our first date, the Space Shuttle Discovery launched  its maiden flight on August 30th, 1984.

As the dew on the fescue in the early morning, the world was fresh and innocent with new ideas everyday.  I was 17 years old and had no idea about the journey I getting ready to go on. Like most high school guys, I was looking for a girlfriend. I was looking for good and God was about to offer me great!

So, this 16 year old Texas girl makes her debut into Mocksville and I am probably the first in line

In a photo booth at the Masonic Picnic in August 1984

to welcome her. Now, 12,000 days later, so many things have happened, so many things have changed. Every now and then I’ll go to Amazon Prime music and play David Lee Roth’s version of “Jump” that made Van Halen so popular. The movie theaters see less of us and Apple movie benefits from our movie going desire with the click of a few buttons. I'm writing this on a Mac Air.

Every August the last 27 years, I have revisited that afternoon we met. Day one was amazing. I left her house that day saying I can’t wait for day two. Now, after day 12,000, I’ll go to sleep tonight saying I can’t wait for day 12,001.

The reflection in time and the thoughts backward 12000 days have caused me to think about the scripture that says

‘But do not forget this one thing, dear friends: With the Lord a day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years are like a day. The Lord is not slow in keeping his promise, as some understand slowness. He is patient with you, not wanting anyone to perish, but everyone to come to repentance.’ 1 Peter 3:8–9

God obviously looks down and says, “Swicey, 12,000 ain’t nothing”. (Forgive me for the assumption that God speaks southern).  While I have cherished my 27 years with Lizzy, I realize that God’s desire for me is to cherish eternity with him. Give that idea some thought. We may believe that time is going by slow and that we have plenty of time in the future to make right by God, but now is certainly a good time. Sometimes we see eternity compressed into moments that give us a glimpse of what it must really be like, but even my gazing upon the Elkhorn Mountains of Montana must only be a spec to what the majesty of

Elkhorn Mountains, Montana

the great I AM’s presence must be.

I started this thought by looking backward, but before it was over, I nudged myself to look forward. I thought to myself, “what will be 12,000 days in the future.” I’ll be 77 (God Willing). Now that was sobering.

I am thankful for the last 12,000 days. It has been amazing; the times I have spent with my wife, the places we’ve gone, the happy times we’ve shared and the challenging times we have pulled each other through. Now, I look forward and am committed to making the next 12,000 days just as special. Tomorrow may look like 1000 years to God, but it is 24 hours to us. I’ll live it with appreciation for the patience he must have, realizing its one more day closer to cherishing God in his economy....eternity.

Business lessons I learn from a cramped plane seat.

Some people hate flying. I'll admit, in my younger years, I was scared to death, tightly holding on to the arm rest, and having a racing heart at the slightest bump.

Times have changed however. I have found the solitude at 30,000 feet is golden. My cell phone is off, people are quiet and the constant hummmmm of the engines become peaceful. Today, I took off from McCarran Airport in Nevada and just as we reached our cruising altitude, the captain said, "look out the window to the right and you'll see Mt. Zion National park as well as the Grand Canyon,  the Colorado River and Monument Valley." All of these are huge land masses, but at 30,000 you can see it great. I can't help but think it's the view God in heaven must see as he looks down from his kingdom.

Today alone, we flew over Nevada, Arizona, Utah, Colorado, Kansas, Missouri, Tennessee, and North Carolina. Eight very distinctive and diverse eco-systems.

Back to the flight; I learn a lot about business by getting out of my world and visiting other areas; in fact,  I learn a lot by flying. Here's a few nuggets I take from my travels and flying.

1.  I think metaphorically, it pays to look at life, relationships, and business from above. So often when we are "on the ground" we are only able to look at situations, relationships and problems in a one dimensionless capacity. As I know you'll agree, life is not one dimensional. Try to view these areas of your life looking from 30,000....you'll see all aspects of them more clearly.
2. It really pays to have some quiet time. Now, I understand my introvert friends reading this are saying "ya think". But for us extroverts who complicate our lives by also being talk out loud- multi-taskers, consider having some quiet time. This is also a great time to reflect and exercise your spiritual life; prayer. When you look out your plane window, surely you are in awe!
3.  Be nice. It is so interesting to watch people with an entitled mentality get service from a flight attendant. I would say that serving a diverse group of people who are tired, hungry, cramped and sometimes scared is a very tough job. Nice just wins. That Golden Rule thing pays incredible dividends whether you're asking for that extra cup of java or working with fellow employees, team members or clients.
4.  Slow down and enjoy the view. On today's flight, I saw some spectacular views; canyons,

   

   Monument Valley

   rivers, mountains, and more. Being on a plane forces you to slow your world down (even though you're going about 400 miles per hours). Looking at your life from a high altitude gives you the ability to reflect on lots of positives. Quietly celebrate the great achievements as you look down, but also, look at the problems you have. I find that when you're taking that roof-top view of things, solutions can sometimes be more easily determined. 

These are just a few of the things that I thought about today at 30,000. The captain just said we're 300 miles from Charlotte....so, I'm going to look down on my life, exercise some quiet time, be nice to my neighbors and fellow team members,  flight attendants, think about my achievements, ponder on solutions for problems I may have, and finally, give thanks to the Lord above for such a beautiful country that I have flown across today.

T. Kyle

A Gift of a Rainbow

 The Gift of a Rainbow

Norman Maclean ended his beautiful novella with these words "The river was cut by the world's great flood and runs over rocks from the basement of time. On some of those rocks are timeless raindrops. Under the rocks are the words, and some of the words are theirs.
I am haunted by waters.”

As I spent my second week in Montana this summer, something in me continued to hear the mysterious words "haunted by water".

So it was in August of 2015, I took my son to the great waters of the Missouri and the bending rocky and conifer laden banks of the Blackfoot River where Maclean experienced a youth that inspired him to write "A River Runs Through It".  Being August, we knew that the days would heat up so we rose early to get on the river as the fish were longing for their rising tricos (a common name given to Tricorythodes mayflies, which hatch most abundantly in August on trout rivers) and other winged dry flies. We met up with our guide, Taylor Todd with Cross Currents Fly Shop in the sleepy town of Ovando, Montana. With its perfect scenic blend of old and new, we rested our vehicle in this town of approximately 50 people. Lying in the Blackfoot Valley, Ovando sits just off of Montana Hwy 200 between Helena and Missoula.

Our Guide, Taylor Todd and Lewis and his first Rainbow

When Todd picked us up, I could see the anticipation in the eyes of Lewis, my son.  While he is an experienced outdoors man, he had never felt the excitement of a rainbow trout tugging on his line. I knew we were in for an experience.

The day yielded a modest catch. Although modest, each of the fish were beautiful. One of the things that cause fly fisherman to be so avid about the sport is the powerful fight that these amazing aquatic creatures exhibit, but its also the rainbow of colors that warm water fish just can't compare to. We spent 6 hours on the river and enjoyed the beauty that we knew was divinely created.  I knew however, that modest as our catch was, we were on our way to the Mighty Mo (Missouri) the next day! I was confident we were just mending our line on this day for what would be a great catch coming up.

A luminous smile

On our second day of fishing, we positioned ourselves in the boat, Lewis in front, and me in the rear. It was no time and I heard Lewis' drag on his reel screaming. His rod was bend over like an upside down crescent moon. I was so excited that I reeled my line in to just watch; and it was beautiful to watch. As Lewis began to fight the fish, he gathered enough time to look back at me desiring approval for his technique. Taylor had already shown Lewis how to bring in the big ones. Catching a trout is a fine line between hogging
the fish and giving too much slack. Dancing on the water, the fish was doing everything it could to get off. But Lewis, after about five minutes, managed to bring in the boat an 18" trout. His smile was luminous. As I sat there on the back of the boat an watched the son I was given communing with the waters and enjoying the gift of a rainbow; I knew He would never be the same. For a moment, I relived my first catch in the cold waters.

While Maclean was haunted by the waters, I knew that Lewis from this point on would be haunted by the most wonderful sport in the world.....Fly Fishing. The gift that Montana brought was beautiful mountains, fast flowing rivers, loads of elk, mule deer, mountain goats, eagles and a five minute battle with a rainbow.

The Elk at sunset.

Good times are one of the hardest things to leave behind. On this trip, everyday was a new chapter in what seemed to be our own book of life in the middle of Big Sky country! On the same waters that Meriwether Lewis and William Clark mapped the northwest territory, we traversed the turns and straight stretches on the canyon sided banks. I can only imagine what their thoughts were.  
I would say that the waters brought us closer together. But like the waters, we too had to drift on to another place. But for just a few small moments in our life, we were one with the river, one with the fish, and one with each other; together like only a father and son could be. I love Montana, but even more, I love my son and the common bond that we share with God's beautiful creation.

A father son double!!  Near Craig, Montana along the banks of the Missouri River.