Weld Chronicles

 1964 through likely 1970 or so, my family rented a cabin from Huck on the Williams Beach.  July of 1964, Huck was giving us a tour of the place and was so pleased with a recent improvement he had made.  He grinned widely and with obvious pride.  He had installed "a flush." For his expression, you would think it was coated in gold. For many of us, it seemed to be.  Richard A. Miller

  (1) Mr. Williams had a white curly-furred dog, Polly,  who followed him everywhere. For several years, I couldn't imagine him without her by his side.  One summer, she had a large wound on her flank that was the size of my outspread hand.  Polly had gotten caught under a snowmobile.  It took a couple years for that injury to pucker up and heal. For one full summer, it looked like well-charred bacon. (2) Two of Mr. Williams' grandchildren were Valerie and Debbie.  Debbie is my sister's age and Valerie was my age.  Each of those wonderful summers on the lake, Val and Debbie would stay with Mr. and Mrs. Williams in their cabin so we all could play together.  Sometimes, I would spend the night with Val at Mr and Mrs Williams' place.  One morning, Val and I woke to the smell of bacon.  I love bacon.  I ate my share, then he cooked up more. He cooked 2 pounds of bacon for me that morning, chuckling the whole time. My parents were embarr...

  My wife and I occasionally went to church at the Sunday Congregational service.  Huck's father attended, so one Sunday, I took a picture of him.  He was wearing a coat and tie accompanying his solemn expression.  He was still and serious looking.  I told him to smile, and I took a second picture.  The smile is so faint that you had to look hard to see it.  Those were the pictures that Huck had on his refrigerator at home.  (These pictures were recently sent to Sean Minear -- he has them in slide form.)  Richard A. Miller

  4:00 am and the sky is turning light blue.  Vireos sing wildly, but it's too early for me yet.  I contemplate getting up and adventuring up Bald before breakfast, but my bed is too warm.   A little later than usual, I decide it's time.  It's still still.  The sun's rays are low and golden, I jump up, ready, noting that my back is not sore this morning; it's a good day. Less than 8 minutes later, My feet feel the sand and rocks; my orange buoy bumps against the backs of my legs like a tail.  I look right towards the Gap in the mountains and can see the cigarette buoy of Bowley Rock beyond Bragg's Point (which I call Stinneford Point because that's what Christa called it when she babysat me years ago); I look left and see the cigarette buoy of Elephant Skin Rock by Pine Point. It's Sunday, too early for the campers to be up so it's a day for Elephant Skin Rock and DeeDee beyond it.  The mountains and pines are mirrored in the lake's surface, ...

  During our early spring biweekly hike into the Albuquerque foothills, Susan asks me, "What do you do while you're in Weld?"  I don't know. I can't seem to remember or identify what I do.  So July 15, I decided to record the day's events. The alarm in the morning is the sunlight and the glow on the trees across the lake, which I can see from my bed.  The light begins at about 4:00 am; I wait until 6:30 to begin to get ready to swim. Paul and I are in the lake at 7 am and swim to the rocks in the center of the lake to look for Missed-ery rock or even the pod rocks; we return by 8:30.  We are chilled but there's enough hot water in the heater for both of us.  I make coffee and my dad's breakfast, and suddenly it's 9:30. Paul starts work.  He'll be home and will make sure my dad's ok and has lunch.  I sweep because there's always pine needles and sand on the floor.  I decide that today is the day to get the paint so I can paint the stairs...