Appalachian Trail, part 2
"Half the walk is but retracing our steps. We should go forth on the shortest walk, perchance, in the spirit of undying adventure, never to return... prepared to send back our embalmed hearts only as relics to our desolate kingdoms."
~ Thoreau

Early into Virginia I saw my first bear. All I really saw was his rear-end, going as fast as possible to avoid an encounter with a human being! He looked like a black blur. I remember thinking how fortunate I was he was running away from me instead of toward me. Just the cay before, I had seen a poster on a tree warning of a bear. It warned their was a bear in the area showing no fear of humans and was being a nuisance. Others had been recounting their bear sightings to me .... I now I had my own! I had started to worry I might hike the entire "AT" and not see a bear. I couldn't wait to relate my own bear story! Later that evening I found the perfect tent site. The wind had been blowing hard for the last two days making it very hard for us to pitch our tents. So I was delighted to find a nice flat spot with a huge boulder beside it. The rock was large enough to help block my tent from the wind. I pitched my small one-man tent and made my huge backpack safe from wind and probable rain by lodging it under a ledge of the huge rock. When choosing a tent I chose light weight over space, so there was no room for my backpack. I was in for the night, the wind was howling loudly outside but I was snuggled in my sleeping bag studying my topograpy maps for the next days hiking challenge. All of a sudden something lunged into the side of my tent with great force! My reaction was instantaneous! I arched my back , lifted my legs in the air directly level with the intruder and with a fear and adrenaline induced scream I kicked the beast with all my might! The force of my kick pushed it back from the tent .... I don't think I had ever been more frightened in my life! Immediately the beast rammed the side of the tent again! I screamed even louder this time and kicked with everything I had, throwing my whole body into it! Again, I had kicked it back! Had I scared it off .... had I killed it? My mind was racing, I thought of the bear I had seen just hours before, I was so frightened, my heart felt as if it would pound itself right out of my chest! I just sat there in an upright position .... waiting! Waiting and praying that the bear or whatever it was would not attack again. I stayed in that position for hours staring at the spot where it had tried to come into my tent .... praying to God I would still be alive come daylight! Sometime near dawn, I finally fell asleep. When I awoke at daylight .... delighted to be yet breathing, I cautiously stepped around the tent to check the tracks and see if there was damage to the tent. And there it was ! I had killed it! My backpack was laying there dead! The force of the wind had dislodged it from it's perch and the fifty pound backpack had fallen against my tent. When I kicked it the first time it merely hit against the rock and immediately fell back against the tent once more. The second kick was so hard the backpack evidently bounced off the rock and to the side just enough to hit the ground instead of the tent ....and that's where it dyed.

On my birthday, June 17th, I hiked into the city of Waynesboro, Virginia and checked into a nice motel. I decided I would treat myself to one of my favorite dishes, white clam sauce over linguini. I searched the phone book and found an Italian restaurant within walking distance. All I had in the way of clothing were nylon hiking shorts with "cargo pockets" and nylon tee-shirts .... both sets were badly stained. This was a special occassion and I did want to look nice on my 53rd birthday! I remembered what I had attached to my backpack only a few days before I started my thru-hike .... a very brightly colored dress tie! I was in a local pub and telling a car salesman friend of mine of my plans to thru-hike the Appalachian Trail in just a few days. My friend gets this really surprised look on his face and shaking his head in amazement, he says, "I can't believe this!" and still shaking his head, he reaches down and takes hold of his beautiful tie and says, ""See this tie .... one of the best friends I ever had gave me this tie." He then became very serious and told me this story. My friend and I worked together for years selling cars, Me and everyone else at that dealership knew he had put back money for years toward a thru-hike of the Appalachian Trail .... he talked about it often." Then my friend looked down at the floor and said, "He got cancer before he could carry out his dream .... he never made his fortieth birthday." Still holding onto the tie his good friend had given him, he explained to me, "This has been my lucky tie for years .... whenever we have slow sales, I wear this tie .... it always works! I had a great day today!" He then undid the tie and with eyes welled up with tears, handed it to me and asked, "Steve would you carry this tie on your hike of that trail?" "Absolutely!" I answered. How very beautiful .... this man was giving up his "lucky tie" that meant so much to him to symbolically send his friend on the thru-hike he was unable to do! And what an absolute honor for me! So, now that I had proper attire, I tied the best knot that I could and proceeded to the Italian restaurant wearing this expensive, brightly colored tie with drab green "cargo" shorts and an even drabber green .... tee-shirt. The waiter never mentioned my attire or even seemed to notice my fine tie! At the table across from me, were two plain clothes detectives. I saw their badges on their belts and and overheard them discussing the training seminar they had attended that day. They were in conversation about the days doings and their occupation in general, but I did catch both of them glancing over at me occassionally. That's a police officers job .... noticing odd looking things. Finally, the one nearest turned to me and said, "That's a fine looking tie you have on." "Thank you!" I said, "Today is my birthday and I just felt like dressin' up!" I shared with them the significance of the tie. They bought me a beer and, wished me a happy birthday and proposed a toast. We raised our glasses and one of them toasted, "Here's to your friend .... and to his friend!" They both said, "solute" nodding their heads in agreement and respect. I had a great birthday .... I was having the time of my life!

Also in Virginia, I declared war against the rules and regulations of Shenandoah National Park! Perhaps it is my southern heritage that inspires me to be a rebel when I feel that my "rights" are being infringed upon. We thru-hikers were greatly offended by the exorbitant fees being charged for not only lodge accommodations and food within the park ... but tent sites as well. Most thru-hikers have to be very frugal to stretch their finances for six months. And myself and a few others had surmised that Park officials were deliberately eliminating suitable spots for tenting by piling debris on them. This tactic was designed to force the thru-hiker to pay the Parks unjustified high fees at their designated camp sites. This pissed me off! So I started fighting back by taking the time to remove the debris from as many potential tent sites as was physically possible. And the ones I actually tented at, I left a message for the park rangers. I fastened a notice encased in a Zip-loc (waterproof) bag and secured it to a tree easily seen from the trail. They read something like this, "No Clue" pitched his tent and spent the night here ... KISS MY ASS!" I was so proud of my mischievous self! And even more so when my fellow thru-hikers started noticing my rebellious tactics, finding my notes humorous, and talking of my antics up and down the trail. And of course, the park rangers had no way of knowing who in the hell "No Clue" was. Near the end of my 100 mile trek through The Shenandoah National Park, I was approached by a fellow thru-hiker who came up to me and said, Hey, are you "No Clue", the guy who is leaving the notes for the park rangers?" I proudly answered, "yes I am!" He introduced himself as "Sir Pees Alot" (a no-brainer ... right?) and told me how great he thought it was and how my little notes were giving him many chuckles. We were saying our goodbyes and I asked him how he knew I was the infamous "No Clue"? He informed me that he saw my name displayed on the back of my backpack! "What balls you have!" He said. The moment he was out of sight, I scrambled out of my backpack and sure enough, there it was for all behind me to see, "NO CLUE"! I had put my name on my sleeping mat with a permanent marker so it would not be confused with the many like ones being used at the shelters. It was on the backside of the mat and so when I rolled it up and fastened it to the bottom of my backpack ..... "Sir Pees Allot" had confused "having balls" for having "No Clue".

Quite surprising to me were the number of young ladies thru-hiking the "AT" alone. I met "cassiopeia" in Virginia. A noticebly beautiful young woman, in spite of her attempts to dress down and hide the obvious. That was general advice from the experts for ladies contemplating hiking the trail ...."Dress down, try not to attract attention to yourself. No makeup, (extra weight to carry anyway) no revealing clothing, etc." She was about 30 and was walking home, she was from Maine. I heard that there was a very upset boyfriend back home who had not wanted her to leave. Supposedly, she decided to hike the "AT" after the boyfriend made it clear he had no intentions of getting married. She was travelling with a very small "Jack Russell" Terrier that was a very large pain in the ass! He yapped at everything larger than him .... which was everything on the trail! One morning I came upon "Cassiopeia's" tent, pitched very near the trail. She was sitting in her tent which was completely open in the front, revealing her as she brushed her golden colored waist length hair. The sun's rays were just coming over the mountains behind her, through her tent and onto her hair! The picture was surreal! She looked like a goddess! I had to gulp hard and take a deep breath so I could say "good morning" without revealing I had discovered her secret ....how very beautiful she was! The ballcap she wore constantly had been hiding her hair and helped to cover that angellic face! She returned the "good morning" and we talked briefly about how far we each intended to hike that day. And then I left .... as though I had not seen a thing .... I almost felt as if I had happened upon her while undressing!

Another young lady thru-hiking alone was "Gypsy", a 23 year old free spirit, one of the fastest hikers on the trail. She and I became friends and talked often. She had been pretty much on her own since her teens. She was doing the trail with little or no money. She would pick up little jobs in the "trail towns" and she would work at the hostels for food, showers, and shelter. She would often hike at night and she would hike very fast trying to make up time she had to spend making money and bartering for her needs. I worried about her getting hurt and cautioned her often and asked her to at least slow down on the more difficult sections ....she didn't listen. One morning while climbing a particularly steep rocky incline, I looked up, and there in front of me were four thru-hikers, each holding the corner of a hand-made stretcher. "Cassiapeia" was one of the hikers sharing the load. And to my utter dimay, on the stretcher was "Gypsy"! She had fallen on the rocks the previous evening and sustained injuries to her hip preventing her from getting back up. She had been forced to stay there alone for a couple of hours. Eventually "Cassiapia" and the other three came along. They surmised that it would be dark by the time they were prepared for moving her. They made her as comfortable as possible and the four of them slept there at her side on a steep incline, on a bed of rocks! At daybreak they started on their plan to get "Gypsy" off the mountain and to safety. One of the hikers was a Native American who had the skills to make the more than adequate strercher. The materials were provided by a thru-hiker called "The Wyoming Skateboarder", who had been brunt of many jokes and laughter due to all the unnecessary and heavy gear he carried. Things like a hatchet, a very heavy tarpoulin, and heavy rope. All the things needed to build a stretcher! God bless "The Wyoming Skateboarder", he was just another lesson in why we all should obey one of the thru-hikers creeds .... "Hike your own hike!" I relieved one of the heroes and we continued on down the mountain taking turns struggling over the rocky and steep terrain. "Gypsy" was in much pain and was terribly frightened that we might drop her on the rocks. At one point she became near hysterical! I could certainly understand, she was unintentionally being tossed from side to side, up and down, and she felt totally helpless over the very terrain that caused her injuries! So I bent down next to her ear and said, "Sweetheart, if this stretcher starts to drop, I will throw myself under it and break your fall!" She looked up and said, "Can you do that?" "Absolutely!" I said. She very sweetly said, "Okay." And she never mentioned being dropped again. We finally encountered two very old farmers in a pick-up truck on an old dirt road that crossed the trail near the bottom of the mountain. They stopped and offered to take Gypsy to get professional help. The old men helped us load her in the truck, they were both very kind and concerned. I figured "Gypsy" would have little or no money, so I took her hand and slipped some money into it. I then asked if she had enough money for a doctor or perhaps had insurance coverage. Before she could answer, "Cassiopeia" spoke up and said, "I have money, I'll take care of it." That's when I saw why she couldn't hide her beauty .... inner beauty will not be hidden! I heard that "Gypsy" cracked her hip and had to get off the trail. And "Cassiopeia", true to her word, took care of the medical expenses. I never saw "Gypsy" or "Cassiopeia" again. I heard later that "Cassiopeia's" boyfriend proposed to her over the phone in order to get her off the trail and back to him. She told him yes she would come home and marry him but she intended to go back and finish her thru-hike! He reluctantly agreed. She did get married and she did finish the Appalachian Trail! What a woman!

Speaking of romances .... there were others on the trail. "Giggles was so infatuated with "Whack-A-Pack", he followed her everywhere and actually made quite a nuisance of himself. He was shamlessly in love with her. She acted as though he was the biggest pain-in-the-ass on the trail! It was totally obvious she did not feel the same way! He was always asking the other hikers if we had seen "Whack-A-Pack"? If they knew where she was camping, had she gone into town, etc., etc.? "Whack-A-Pack, on the other hand, was saying things like, "Don't tell "giggles" you saw me" and "That guy is driving me nuts!" And then "Giggles" made the mistake of thinking that we older men knew more about what would turn a womans heart .... and he confided in me. "No Clue", he says, "Do you think "Whack-A-Pack is at all interested in me?" Hoping to put the young man out of his misery and back on track, I said, "No!" I could not believe his answer, "Thanks "No Clue", but I think you're wrong!" And he kept right on chasing after her and she kept right on ignoring him. I was really feeling sorry for him watching as he made an ass of himself. So .... I took him aside one day and shared what I felt might help him, "Look "Giggles", I don't know if this will help you or not, but I read once .... if you want a woman to love you, fill her to the brim with love for herself, all that flows over will be yours." You would have thought I had wrapped her in a package and handed her to him! He just kept shaking my hand and saying, "Thank you "No Clue" thank you, thank you!" Over and over! He said he was going to find "Whack-A-Pack" and took off up the trail. I never saw "Giggles" or "Whack-A-Pack" again, but a few years later I was told they both finished their thru-hikes and "Giggles" had pursued "Whack-A-Pack" all the way to her hometown. And evidently she had a change of heart, they had been happily married for a few years. Never say never.

This long and beautiful, seemingly endless footpath was taking me not only to Maine, but to my soul .... the inner core of my being. This trail was touching my heart and was changing my outlook on life. I still had no idea just how much I would change though. That much beauty, a continuous beauty, one that very few will ever experience. The silence away from the rest of the world .... createing the purest solitude imaginable! Add encounters with special and unique individuals who seek to fill their hearts with the joy and peace of the trail and in turn .... aid others in their personal quest .... how can one not change! The proper attitude for a thru-hike of the Appalachian Trail was put to me with these meaningful words from Melody Blaney, "There are two ways to hike the trail, you can hike it from the bottom of your feet .... or from the bottom of your heart!" She then gave me these wonderful words of assurance, "I can see, you are doing the latter." I thought my heart would burst! She, in the true spirit of the trail must have sensed I needed encouragement at that time. Thank you Melody! Melody Blaney had written a successful book about her thru-hike, "A Journey Of Friendship".


"When a traveler asked Wordsworth's servant to show him her master's study, she answered, "Here is his library, but his study is out of doors."


Even with the discomforts and the new challenges I was having to face I really did feel happier than I had in many years. I had actually grown accustomed to tent camping, eating Ramen noodles and candy bars for nearly every meal, and hiking virtually nonstop 10 to 12 hours a day! I had my "trail legs"! And, a great bonus for the extreme torture I was putting my body through ... I had lost 48 pounds in 60 days! And, I did it eating Snickers bars! At Duncannon, Pennsylvania, a little over 1,100 miles from my starting point of Springer Mountain, my girlfriend Jeanne flew up for a visit. We had a great time! My son was reporting that all was well at home and business was going great! And ... I was over half way to Mt. Katahdin in Maine and my conquest of the Appalachian Trail! But regardless of all the fun and the good news, within just a day or so of leaving Duncannon, I began worrying about my son, I just felt uneasy. I would call and tell him of my concerns and he would insist that all was well and I had no need to worry! The feeling still would not go away.

There are two key rules out on the "AT" to follow, particularly when you travel at the pace of most thru-hikers. Rule one, never take your eyes off the trail, be ever conscience of your next step. And two, never daydream to the point where you are not concentrating on what you are doing and what is around you. Due to the "gut" feeling concerning my son, I found myself breaking both those vital rules of the trail, I had already fallen three times. Pennsylvania is called, "where your boots go to die" by thru-hikers, due to the extremely rocky terrain. Falling on those rocks can be quite serious. On my last fall I had recieved some deep cuts and nasty bruises. But the scariest incident was not a fall on the rocks ... but what came out of the rocks! I had seen two "rattlers" since I had been on the trail. Both sightings were in Virginia and uneventful. Because I had my mind somewhere other than the trail, I don't know how the hell that big fat "timber rattler" got in front of me! All I remember is that dreaded sound! There was no mistaking that sound! I should have been tuned to a possible encounter, I had been stepping from rock to rock all day, it was a 100 degrees ... the perfect setting for a rattlesnake! There he was, fully coiled, head reared back and ready to strike! That terrible, intimidating rattling sound! I knew he was warning me, I knew that he knew I was too big for prey and he didn't want to waste his venom on me (I felt the same way.) Knowing these facts, it was still unnerving! I'm not sure how long he was, but he was the largest I had seen! I was nearly on top of him from my point of view, less than four feet away! Also, I had been climbing and was on an incline, he was higher than me! The fear of being bitten in the upper body now gripped me as well. And, I figured I was at least 30 or 40 miles from help. I needed to step back to gain a safer vantage point! I didn't dare take my eyes off him. I had to step backwards without looking! I would be descending over jagged rocks... backwards! And as if the situation were not tense enough, due to a dry spell in the area, I was forced to carry extra water, putting my backpack weight at about 60 pounds! So, without any other real choice, I leaned forward to gain some leverage as I stepped backward and downward! When I did so, it sounded as though the rattle would come off his tail! I made it, I did not fall to my death! I used the same procedure again and was now two big steps further away from him, I now felt out of harms way. My camera was hung around my neck so I started snapping pictures of my foe. After having them developed weeks later, the first four pictures were no more than blurred rocks! I had been shaking so badly that only a couple pictures were clear enough to recognize the subject. After taking the pictures I picked up two throwing size rocks. I threw the first one and it landed right beside him ... he rattled louder ... but he didn't move. I knew I could put the next rock right on his head, possibly killing him. I realized I was angry at this snake because he had made me look bad, he caused me to feel afraid and insecure. That damned snake had humiliated me and hurt my pride! How dare him! As I stood there and we both studied each other, I recalled a few years back, in Florida, while my two children were yet small. My wife and I had seen coral snakes in our backyard.. Coral snakes are extremely venomous, so we were frightened for our childrens safety. I made the decision to kill the coral snakes. With that memory came the realization, "He's not in my backyard ... I'm in his backyard!" I gently dropped the rock at my side and that magnificent creature slithered away.



"Nature never did betray the heart that loved her" William Wordsworth



July 17, 1999 was a beautiful Sunday morning on Blue Mountain Summit in Pennsylvania. I was crossing the road headed for the north side of the "AT", an old pickup truck pulled up beside me. The driver stuck his head out and asks, "Are you the hiker from Florida .... your name "No Clue"? The fear gripped me immediately, why did he need to know that? He told me I had an emergency at home and he would drive me to the nearest payphone. I could not remember ever having felt so frightened! I instantly became horrified that something had happened to my son ... my little boy. "Dear God," I kept repeating to myself, "Please, oh God please let it be only an injury! He's been in a car wreck but he's going to be alright!" I climbed into the backseat of the truck. The driver, Todd Gladfelter, was ferrying two female hikers to one of the numerous trailheads in the area. All three occupants were completely silent as we rode toward a payphone. I kept agonizing as to what the emergency could possibly be, no one offered to try to assure me that everything would be alright. They already knew what I was soon to find out. I remember hoping the news would be the serious illness of my eighty year old mother, even guiltily willing to hear of my mothers death .... anything than either of my babies!

We pulled up to an old country store and Todd pointed to where the phone was. I remember now that he and the two hikers walked away a few feet and just stood there looking at the ground with an occassional nervous glance at one another. I was shaking so badly I could barely punch in the number of my home. My daughter answered, I blurted out, "Shelly what is wrong, what has happened?" Between sobs, she screams, "Just get home, just get on a plane and get home!" Now I am totally horrified! Shelly , you have got to tell me what is wrong, has Stevie been in a car wreck or something?" She then screams out the most horrible words that had entered my ears, "He's gone dad .... our Stevie is gone .... he killed himself daddy!" My beautiful only son had gone down to the beach, placed a gun in his mouth and ended both our lives!

I fell back away from the phone as though I had been physically shoved away from it ... and I screamed! I could not stop screaming! In my mind was a line from a popular war movie, over and over, "The horror, the horror!" I was completely incapacitated! I could not think, I could not move! I could only scream! I felt as though my heart had been chopped from my body with an axe while I was yet breathing! This could not be happening to me! My life was over! My charming, witty, intelligent and handsome son, my pride and joy, my proud contribution to the universe .... was gone!

Todd and the two ladies took hold of me and placed me in the back seat of the truck. One of the ladies stayed in the back with me while I screamed. They all tried to comfort me. Todd dropped the ladies off at their pre-arranged hiking spot and we drove on up to his home in the Blue Mountains. His wife was waiting when we pulled up, she came off the porch running and jumped immediately into the back of the truck and wrapped her arms around me. "What do you want to do .... what can we do for you?" She asked. "I need a place to scream!" I said. "We have lots of room for that." she said., and pointed me toward the barn. Todd's wife is Cindy Ross, a successful author of adventure and travel books. Todd and Cindy both write about their adventures and raise Llama's on their pennsylvania farm. Two of life's very special people!

After practically bathing me, they gave me descent clothes for my flight home . Todd drove me to the airport at Allentown to board a puddle jumper to Washington's Dulles Airport where I would change planes for Orlando. I barely remember a very quiet , calm, and composed Todd Gladfelter taking my credit card and approaching the ticket counter. I was just standing there like a zombie waiting to be told what to do. Evidently there was a discrepancy about the address or something with my credit card and Todd was trying to work it out. And then I heard Todd say, "What the hell is wrong with you people?! For God's sake give the man his damn ticket and let's get him home! Can't you see the condition he's in! For crying out loud, just do it!" He was shouting it! The stunned agent just looked at him in disbelief, she then punched the right buttons and gave the man my ticket. It worked, I was taken immediately to my plane

I could no longer control myself; I no longer cared about anything other than the horrible indescribable pain in my very being. I started screaming on the plane! There were about twenty five people onboard and nearly all tried to comfort me. There were both men and women holding my hands and rubbing my back. When we landed at Dulles International attedants were waiting for me with a wheelchair .... I could not walk! I was no longer a fuctioning human being! A very old lady approached me, she evidently had been sitting in the very front of our plane. She patted my hand and said, "Honey, I heard you back there, I don't blame you for being frightened, that was the roughest flight I have ever been on!" I had not even noticed.

An employee of Delta Airlines was pushing me to my next flight when a tall attractive African American lady with a walkie talkie in her hand approached me. She was obviously someone of authority; she was issueing commands to a small entourage accompanying her. She stood in front of me and asked very gently, "Mr. Fugate, do you think you can get out of that wheelchair just for a moment?" I replied that I wasn't sure. She patiently coaxed me to stand up. Upon standing, this beautiful woman wrapped her arms around my neck, put her lips to my ear and whispered, "Mr. Fugate, we all love you and are here for you .... and God loves you!" She then asked if I thought I would be able to board the flight to Orlando. I told her I didn't know .... I didn't know anything, my mind was not functioning. All I could do was cry and repeat over and over, "my little boy, my beautiful little boy!" I was sent via ambulance to a nearby Washington D.C. emergency room. I was given mild sedatives that had no effect what so ever. A case hardened emergency room doctor approximately my own age, was shedding tears as he pleaded my case to his superiors that I needed stronger drugs! The two EMT's from the ambulance , stayed at my side during my emergency room visit. They infomed me that they had asked permission to be the ones to also drive me back to the airport. They asked if that was okay with me, to which of course I answered "yes." It is still hard to believe how touched everyone was by my tragedy and how they all tried to comfort me. On the flight headed for Florida, the steward was instructed to allow me to stand in the back with him as soon as the seatbelt light went out. He tried to comfort me as best he could between serving drinks. Somewhere during the flight he looked at me and said, It makes you wonder why God would do something like this?" I was totally suprised by my immediate answer, "Oh, God didn't do this, it was allowed to happen though, and I've got to find out why!"

I went home to bury my little boy. I was asked my most of his fine young friends, "why?" I had no real answer. My son left twelve notes to his loved ones and friends. In one note he said, "Maybe something good can come out of my death!" That made me angry, what a ludicrous statement! At the time, it was avery painful thing to hear.

I had to make funeral arrangements for my little boy, I had no idea what I was doing! In my family it was traditional that some protestant minister conducted the funeral services, so I went in that direction. I remembered a popular Assembly of God minister in Vero Beach I had heard speak. He became a minister due to an incident in which he accidently shot and killed his cousin while drunk. I had enjoyed his sermon about not judging others and figured he had to be a pretty understanding guy, considering all he had gone through. His wife answered the phone. Between sobs I explained to her I had lost my son and I needed her husband to help me bury my boy. She immediately asked, "Was your son saved?" I did not want to discuss this; I just wanted to get my precious little boy buried properly. I replied, "Ma'am, can't he just come and talk so I can bury my boy!" She very firmly repeated, "Was your son saved!?" My heart was acheing as if it was in a vice, and this line of questioning was tightening it. In frustration, I answered, "I don't know!" She then blurted out, "Mr. Fugate, I believe that your son killed himself!" I couldn't believe it! I could not believe that she was passing judgment on my beautiful little boy! The pain was so horrible, I screamed something I never dreamed I would say to a woman, I can't believe my daddy didn't rise from his grave, "F--- you! You c---!" The phone slammed in my ear. She had probably never been called a c--- before... I had never lost a child before.


                                                  




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