Mysterious Monterey

The town of Monterey is shrouded in mystery and no one is really sure if it was located in Louisiana or Texas. This is because nothing remains of the town today except two graves. A plat of the town exists in the Vivian Museum, though little or nothing is known about who lived there or who ran businesses there.

What is known is that Monterey had a riverboat landing and was home to 1000 or so inhabitants. In 1878, the little town even had a U.S. post office. The names on the graves are T. E. Samuel

and Ernest L. M. Sleet. Samuel was born in Orange County, Virginia and died October 6, 1880. Sleet was born March 1, 1861 and died January 17, in 1878.

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East Texas Mystery Novel

In Eric Wilder’s novel Ghost of a Chance, Buck McDivit visits mysterious Caddo Lake in East Texas to check on his inheritance and learn something of the Aunt he never knew. What he finds a shallow lake and a sleepy tourist town where nothing is as it seems.
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HAPPY HOLIDAYS

Happy holidays from Ghost of a Chance.

An East Texas Haunting

Caddo Lake, in East Texas and Northwest Louisiana, is the location of Eric Wilder's new novel, Ghost of a Chance. Protagonist Buck McDivit leaves his home in Oklahoma and travels to East Texas. Someone has murdered his newly found Aunt Emma Fitzgerald. Buck is apparently the sole heir to Fitzgerald Island, andthe marina and fishing lodge on it. Here is an excerpt from Ghost, describing what Buck saw when he first arrived:"James T. "Buck" McDivit had come to Texas for answers. What he found was a giant lake amid a maze of vines, creepers and lily pads. A place that seemed more like Louisiana than Texas. He quickly realized it was different from both states. Cypress trees grew in abundance, both in the water and out, and Spanish moss, wafting in slow-motion waves, hung from their limbs, caressing the lake's coffee-colored surface. Only the head of a slow-swimming snake disrupted the lake's tranquillity.

East Texas was a place far different from Buck's own home on the flat plains of central Oklahoma. This was a mysterious locale that seemed like a virtual botanical garden replete with subtropical greenery and a climate to match. Buck felt a thousand miles from home.Interstate highway, replaced by rural Texas blacktop, had long since disappeared in his rearview mirror. Untended hollyhocks, blooming in lavender flower falls that saturated humid air with their cloying fragrances, grew wild beside the road. Damp pathways, none leading anywhere in particular, pierced the tangle of vegetation as a flock of cattle egrets winged high overhead.

Egrets weren't the only wildlife in abundance, nor were oak, cypress and hollyhock the only plants bordering the road. Cascades of blue impatiens, crimson-blossomed rosebushes and clumps of green willow painted the terrain from a diverse palette of color.

East Texas is indeed an exotic and mysterious area. Buck meets Pearl and Raymond Johnson, caretakers of Fitzgerald Marina, and their two sons, Ray and Wiley. He soon learns that someone has designs on the islands and is intent upon wresting it from him. Could it be relentless land developer Hogg Nation? Maybe it's Colonel Clayton Richardson, bank and ultra-wealthy plantation owner that has a mortgage on the island. Possibly it's Jefferson Travis, racist judge that leads the New Southern Right, a local hate group. Could it be Bones Malone, amateur archeologist and relic hunter, and former lover of Emma Fitzgerald. And, there are two recently released recidivists, Deacon John and Humpback. These skinheads are after lost Confederate gold from a sunken riverboat and don't care who they have to kill to find it.

Buck meets beautiful Lila Richardson, local antiquities expert and daughter of Clayton Richardson, and is instantly smitten. Is she as complicit as her father and racist uncle, Judge Jefferson Travis? Can Buck really trust her?Many interesting characters inhabit Fitzgerald Island and the touristy village of Deception. Will Buck get the girl? Will he save the island? Will he save himself? Read Ghost of a Chance and find out. It is available at your local bookstore, many places on the web. Please check out Eric's website.
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East Texas and Leon Russell

Recently I drove from Oklahoma to my parents house in northwest Louisiana. I followed Interstate 40 west to Henryetta, then south down the Indian Nations Turnpike -- almost to the Texas border. Soon after crossing the Red River, you realize that you’re truly in East Texas.It was after five, already late in the day for mid September, when I reached the gently rolling, piney hills near Atlanta.

Yes, Atlanta, Texas – probably named by Georgia transplants looking for fertile cotton-growing land. I had driven for miles in silence when I decided to play a CD. By coincidence, I chose a Leon Russell album that I hadn’t heard in many moons. Russell’s songs were, it turned out, perfect for the remainder of my drive through an area that’s sometimes called the "Pine Curtain."

When my Grandmother, Dale, was alive, she’d had a farm fifteen miles from Atlanta. It was down a narrow, winding blacktop road that continued past the O’Farrell Methodist Church. My Grandmother had been a longtime member. I presume the old wooden structure is still there, but I didn’t stray from my intended location to find out. An adventure saved for another day.

As I continued along the country road, shadows from tall pines beginning to darken endless curves, I had an epiphany. Having lived most of my adult life in Oklahoma, it suddenly dawned on me why East Texas is so guarded, secretive and mysterious. In Oklahoma, vision unhampered by trees, you can see for miles in all directions. In East Texas, you can’t see a hundred yards in any direction. Pine curtain, indeed!Leon was belting out a tune, proclaiming his reasons for leaving the woman he loved and returning to an island. "To watch the sun go down," he sang, "And hear the sea roll in. I’ll be thinking of you and what might have been." His voice, at first blush, seems wavering and untrained. Then you realize his tremolo is calculated, his vocal range probably greater than Pavarotti’s. Like the haunting sound of a slide guitar in the able hands of a bluesy maestro.

To reach my Grandmother’s house, you would turn off the blacktop at the O’Farrell Methodist Church and follow a dirt road another five miles. She lived at the end of the road, both figuratively and in reality. Once, confronted by a dozen guinea hens in our path, my Mother said, "Slow down, Jack. You’ll hit the birds."As if the prove her wrong, my Father stepped on the gas instead of slowing. "You can’t hit one of those crazy fools," he said. "They’ll get out of the way."

Three didn’t, laid testimony by the hollow thump, thump, thump of the birds being crushed beneath the car.No one said anything, but I’m sure my Father felt terrible about the incident. Leon would have understood. You only have to hear his poignant lyrics to realize that.

I stopped at O’Farrell Road and took a picture. Everyone needs a memory. This is just one of thousands that sometimes recur when I hear a certain song, see a particular building, or drive a familiar stretch of road.When I reached my parents home in Vivian, stopped the car and rolled down the windows, the sun was beginning to set, crickets and tree frogs, like Leon, harmonizing in the distance. As I switched off the singer’s last dulcet refrain, I realized there were people in my past that I had left behind in order to return to my own island. And that sometimes the destinations we think we simply have to reach are places that we never really left. http://www.ericwilder.com http://justeastofeden.blogharbor.com http://energyissues.blogharbor.com http://ericwilder.blogspot.com

Mysterious Jeems Bayou

Jeems (pronounced James) Bayou begins as a small creek in east Texas. It soon widens and eventually flows into Caddo Lake. Here are a few pics taken last week.
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Top Ten Deadliest Creatures

According to the website http://www.livescience.com the ten most deadly creatures on earth are:
10. Poison Dart Frog
9. Cape Buffalo
8. Polar Bear
7. Elephant
6. Australian Saltwater Crocidile
5. African Lion
4. Great White Shark
3. Australian Box Jellyfish
2. Asian Cobra
AND
1. Mosquito (they carry parasites that carry malaria and their bites result in more than 2 million deaths per year).
Just East of Eden has moved to a new blog host. The location is http://justeastofeden.blogharbor.com . Please check it out. Myblogsite is shutting its doors and will no longer host anyone after 11-30. Also, check out Livescience.com, its an awesome website. Thanks, Eric Wilder http://www.ericwilder.com http://ericwilder.blogspot.com

Moonflowers

Moonflowers bloom after the sun has set, thus the name. The large blossoms exude a wonderful fragrance. They last only one night and are gone soon after the sun arises.

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Vivian Confidential - Part Thirteen

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Ray, G, S and I stood huddled atop of G’s Fairlane, watching the huge wolf pace in ever-narrowing circles around us. S had finally stopped screaming and was pressed against Ray, crying softly. The rest of us were also yelled out and simply waited for the inevitable.

"What are we going to do?" Ray asked.

"Start kicking if it jumps up on the car," G said.

"What if it’s a werewolf?" Ray asked.

G and I just stared at him and S began crying harder. "What difference does it make?" G asked. "We’ll be just as dead if he gets us."

"But won’t we come back as werewolves?" he asked.

"That’s vampires, you nitwit," G said.

"I have a plan," I ventured.

S quit crying a looked at me. Her tear-stained face was white and seemed bloodless in the cool light of the full moon. "Well tell us," they said as one.

"The car is metal, slippery footing for the wolf. If it makes it up here, we push it off the side. That side," I said, pointing away from the little logging road. "While it’s confused, we run back to the tree. We’ll be safe there."

"Uh huh," Ray said, unimpressed with my plan.

Impressed or not, it was the only plan we had. It didn’t matter anyway. With orange eyes ablaze as they reflected in the light of the moon, the wolf leaped to the hood of the Fairlane.
"Get ready," I said, my heart in my throat.

Up he came, claws slipping on the car’s finish as I had predicted. S began screaming again. We were all yelling as it lunged at us from the hood, slipped and slid back. Gathering itself, it leaped, this time clearing the windshield and landing on the car’s roof along with us. It was G that quit screaming and took action. Dropping to her knees, she gave the wolf a push. It wasn’t much but it was all that was needed. The wolf’s claws simply had no traction on the slippery metal and it tumbled off the side of the car.

"Run!" I yelled, jumping to the other side of the car.

G pushed Ray and S and the four of us began racing up the narrow logging trail. The tumble from the roof had confused the wolf. It quickly regained its senses, howled and came after us. We were almost to the safety of the tree when Ray and S, running hand-in-hand in front of G and me, tripped and slid face-first into the dirt. G and I tumbled on top of them. We could feel the specter of the beast behind us, almost feel its hot breath. S began crying again. Helpless, I felt like joining her. We turned to watch the monster stop ten feet from us, crouch, lick its lips and growl. A horrible growl.

As we waited for the inevitable, we heard another growl. The wolf also heard it. As we
watched, a beast even larger than the wolf attacked it with the full force of its gigantic body. For all the world, it was huge black panther. As the two angry animals tore up the loose ground in front of us, we could only watch. G was the first to react.

"Back to the car," she yelled. "Now!"

She stood, grabbed S’s hand, jerked her to her feet and started back toward the
Fairlane. Stunned, Ray and I followed, hurriedly.

"I can’t find the keys," she said, her voice growing desperate. "They’re in my purse."

"They can’t be in your purse," I said. "You drove back here to look for your purse. Turn on the dome light and look on the seats and floor board."

We could hear the sounds of a tremendous and likely bloody fight not far away as G switched on the dome light. "Here they are," Ray said, tossing them to me. "They were in the back seat."
"Then lets get the hell out of here," G said, cranking the engine, spinning the car in the road like an experienced NASCAR veteran and heading toward the lights of town.

"What’s in your purse that was so important?" I asked as I clutched the door and held
on for dear life.

For the first time that night, G began to weep. "I’m going steady with a boy at Louisiana College. When S and I saw you and Ray I took off my ring and put it in my purse. I didn’t want you to know. Now it’s gone and I could just die."

"Here’s your purse right," Ray said. "I found it when I was looking for the keys. It was under the seat."

Things finally seemed to be going right for the first time that night. Except that we had reached the main road, were approaching ninety and the flashing lights of a cop car were right behind us. G pulled to the side of the road and rolled down the window.

"You could have killed somebody," the policeman said when he reached the window. "Why the hell were you driving so fast?"

G glanced briefly at me, shook her head and said, "Officer, I know this is going to sound hard to believe, but —"

Happy Halloween
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Vivian Confidential - Part Twelve

CHAPTER TWELVE

The huge black wolf abandoned the tree from where G and I watched. Within seconds we heard a blood-curdling scream. It was S.

"It’s got them," G said. "We have to help."

She shimmied down the tree before I could answer. Grabbing a limb, I dropped to the soft earth and followed after her through the darkness, not knowing how she intended to save Ray and S even if she arrived in time to do so. It didn’t matter. She was intent on trying and there was little I could do except follow her.

G ran down the logging trail back to the car. Tripping in a hole, she fell on her face, careening forward into loose dirt. Right behind her, I stepped into the same hole and fell on top of her. For a long moment, we both rolled around, attempting to regain our senses, and our bearings, before getting up, dusting ourselves off and hurrying back toward the car. What we saw when we got there caused the small hairs on back of my neck to rise.

Ray and S were on top of the Fairlane, the wolf standing on his hind legs, fully extended to the roof of the car and nipping at their heels. The moon had reached its full ascent. Its glow lighted the scene like a spotlight and it only took a minute for the wolf to notice G and me. S also saw us and began to scream. I would have done the same but I was running for my life.

G hadn’t waited for me. When the wolf dropped from the roof and started around the car after us, she ran in the opposite direction. I quickly followed her. The wolf could easily have caught us in a straight line but was unable to immediately catch us as we ran in circles around the Fairlane. On the second circuit, the snarling monster nipping at our heels, G stepped up on the bumper and hoisted herself onto the hood of the car. The diversion allowed me to put distance on the pursuing beast and on the next lap around the car I followed G’s path to the car’s hood

With the four of us on top of the Fairlane, we all began screaming for help.

Conclusion Tomorrow
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Vivian Confidential - Part Eleven

CHAPTER ELEVEN

I caught up with G before she reached the edge of the clearing. Whatever was behind us was bearing down rapidly upon us. A storm-damaged oak tree lay directly in our path, canted at a 45 degree angle with the ground. Grabbing G’s hand, I raced up the tree with her in tow. Using the knobby branches like a rungs of a ladder, I managed to quickly climb ten feet or so into the air, something large and mean nipping at our heels.

What ever was chasing us wasted little energy growling, but I could see from its shadowy figure that it was either a very large dog or else a wolf. Whichever, it apparently couldn’t climb trees. That didn’t mean it was giving up on us. Below the tree, it began stalking in impatient circles.

"Oh my God! We’re dead," G said.

"We’re okay. It can’t reach us."

By now my eyes had adjusted to the forest’s dimness and I got a good look at the giant beast below us. It was definitely a wolf, solid black except for a snowy white patch beneath its jaws. If I were standing beside it, the beast’s shoulders would have come to my waist. From the way it was pawing the ground, I could tell it wasn’t friendly.

"Throw something at it," G said.. "Make it go away."

"That’ll just make it madder. We’re stuck here until it decides to leave us alone."

"That might be all night," G said.

"At least we’re safe here."

G took a deep breath and squeezed my arm, settling back against a branch. I prepared to do the same when I heard someone shouting from the far side of the clearing.

"Eric and G. Where the hell are you two?"

Below us the wolf issued a throaty growl. In a crouch, it started back toward the clearing.

To Be Continued
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Vivian Confidential - Part Ten

We had come to the end of the narrow road. Before us lay a small clearing among the trees. The red dirt area was bare except for a lone oak tree. Long branches extended from the tree and something hung from one of the branches by a rope. G pulled away from my grasp and walked toward it, striking a match for illumination. Behind us we heard another low growl.

"For God’s sake, let’s get out of here," I said.

"Wait, " G said. "Its not human. It’s a deer carcass."

She was right. I could see it in the flickering light of the rapidly dying match and rays of the full moon as they filtered through the leaves. Someone had shot a deer and hung its body from a branch to butcher it. They had taken only the haunches and left the rest of the carcass to blow in a gentle breeze. We had another problem. There was something else in the clearing with us. Like the deer, it wasn’t human either. Worse, it was between us and the road.

G and I turned as one. She grabbed my arm hard enough to cut off the blood circulation when she saw what it was. I wanted to scream but the muscles in my throat had constricted. Even though my mouth was open, not a single peep issued. G was also speechless though not quite as cemented in place as I. Releasing her grip on my arm, she broke and ran toward the dark thicket of trees. Her reaction broke my trance. Whirling around, I raced after her.

Before going 10 yards I knew that our flight was useless. My ears, nose, and senses I didn’t know I possessed, informed me with a straight shot of adrenaline that the beast we had seen in the clearing, by the light of the full moon, was coming after us.
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Eyes of the Wolf

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Vivian Confidential - Part Nine

G grabbed me around the neck and refused to let go. Honestly, if I could have run back to the car, I would have. G’s arms and my own rubbery legs prevented me from it. It didn’t matter. Within seconds, the throaty blast of a large gauge shotgun locked us both into place.

“Oh shit,” G said. “We’re going to die.”

“I think you’re right. Let’s get the hell back to the car.”

“Not without my purse,” she said.

“What’s in that purse that’s worth dying for?” I asked.

My words caused an unexpected result. G began to cry, softly at first. Soon, her sobs and cries of anguish were so loud, I became afraid they would attract the wolf, or the person with the shotgun. With some effort I unlatched G’s arms from around my neck, grabbed her hand and pulled her in the general direction of the Fairlane. She was having none of it.

“If you’re so scared, then run back to the car and wait for me. I’m going to find my purse.”

I could see G’n s resolve as she stood staring at me beneath the golden light of a full moon. Duly chastised, I changed directions and continued walking toward the general direction from which the growls had come. I’m not a brave person and, to put it colloquially, my asshole was puckered.

We followed the narrowing trail another 100 yards, or so, light from the moon guiding our path. We stopped when we reached a grove of trees that blocked out the light.

“It’s in there,” G said, pulling me gently into the darkness. Suddenly she froze and said, “There it is.”

I could barely see it in the cloaked darkness. Something attached to a rope was hanging from a tree branch. For all the world, it looked like a butchered body.

To Be Continued

Moon-eyed Cat Visits Eric's Garden

The dogs alerted me that a stranger was in the garden. I took my camera to investigate and managed to snap several pics of the elusive and very rare moon-eyed cat. He and my dog Lucky struck up an immediate friendship. http://www.ericwilder.com http://ericwilder.blogspot.com http://justeastofeden.myblogsite.com http://energyissues.modblog.com

Vivian Confidential - Part Eight

CHAPTER EIGHT

It hadn’t rained in a week or two and powdery dust blew into the Fairlane when G opened the door. We had apparently disturbed the wild animals because the last thing we heard after shutting the front doors was silence. Neither cricket nor a single tree frog was singing. G clasped my hand.

"Maybe this is a bad idea," I said.

"I have to find my purse."

"It’s not going anywhere. Can’t we come back tomorrow?"

G put her arms around my waist and rested her chin on my shoulder. I could tell that she was crying softly. "There’s something in my purse I just can’t afford to lose."

"Like what?" I asked.

"I can’t tell you," she said, sniffling. "But you’re too blame if I don’t find it."

Silence was my only answer when I asked, "How’s that?"

A full golden moon provided the only illumination and it only peeked through the branches in places. I glanced around at thick vegetation on both sides of the road and wondered how G and S had gone into the woods in the first place. G must have read my mind because she released her grip from my waist, grabbed my hand and led me to the rear of the car.

"There’s an old road leading into the woods. It’s either a logging trail or a hunter’s path to a deer stand, or something. The trees are trimmed away from the road and the full moon is the only light we’ll need."

"How far from the car?" I asked as she pulled me forward down the road, little more than a trail, at a rapid clip.

"Don’t know. I wasn’t paying attention when I followed S and we ran all the way back."

Suddenly, the mournful howl of a large animal somewhere directly in front of us caused us both to freeze in our tracks. A throaty growl quickly followed. It could have been a large dog but it sounded for all the world like a wolf – a very angry wolf.

Mittie Stephens

The Mittie Stephens plyed the Mississippi River from New Orleans to Shreveport on the Red River, and then across Caddo Lake, all the way to Jefferson, Texas. It sank on February 11, 1869. The load of hay it carried caught fire, burning the riverboat and many of the people onboard. More than 60 passengers lost their lives. The $100,000 reportedly aboard was never recovered. The sunken ship plays an integral part in Ghost of a Chance, Eric Wilder's novel about Caddo Lake. http://ericwilder.blogspot.com http://www.ericwilder.com http://justeastofeden.myblogsite.com http://energyissues.modblog.com

Arcadia, Oklahoma's Round Barn

The Odor family moved to what is now Arcadia, Oklahoma in 1898 and built the Round Barn shortly after that time. It fell into disrepair in the 1980's but was restored by a group of volunteers known as the Over-the-Hill Gang -- named because most of the restorers were 65 years or older. This wonderful old barn sits just off of historic Route 66 and visitors come from all over the world to see this one-of-a-kind architectural masterpiece. http://ericwilder.blogspot.com http://justeastofeden.myblogsite.com http://www.ericwilder.com http://energyissues.modblog.com

Vivian Confidential - Part Seven

Before G had time to elaborate, she slammed on the brakes, sending the Fairlane into a sideways slide. The car came to an abrupt halt in the road.

“We have to go back,” G said.

“No way,” S said from the back seat, still hugging Ray.

“Tell me what the hell is going on,” I demanded.

G hesitated before saying, “We saw something in the woods.”

“Well please let me in on your little secret,” I said.

“A body hanging from a tree,” she said. “We have to tell the police.”

“Are you kidding me?” I asked.

“She’s not kidding,” S said from the back seat. “I’m not kidding either. Get out of these woods and get me back to Vivian.”

“We can’t,” G said. “I dropped my purse back there.”

Whatever they had seen and heard, had greatly frightened S.

“Take me home first,” she said. “I’m not going back there.”

G backed the car around and started back in the direction from which we had come.

“I’m not leaving without my purse,” she said. “You can wait in the car.”

Having gone no more than a mile down the road before G had decided to turn around, we quickly returned to the spot where we had heard the scream. S was whimpering in the back seat, her arms still latched firmly around Ray’s neck. He was also in shock, but not from fright. He was basking in the unexpected, close proximity of the attractive coed he had just met. G parked the car at the side of the road, the dome light flickering as she opened the door.

“Will you come with me?” she asked.

“Yes,” I said. “But tell me who was screaming.”

With the front door still open, G turned in the car’s front seat. When she hugged me, I could feel her racing heart.“I don’t know what it was,” she said. “It was big, black and moved like a cat.”

TO BE CONTINUED
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Vivian Confidential - Part Six

Both Ray and I waited for G to say something. When she didn’t, I said, “I agree with Ray. S should have come back by now. We should check on her.”

“You two stay in the car,” G said. “I’ll do the checking. She may need girl help.”

Not really knowing what she meant by that, neither Ray nor I protested. We waited until the door slammed and the dome light dimmed before either of us spoke.

“S seems friendly, but G seems a little standoffish,” Ray said.

“Yeah, well we had a little argument last time I saw her.”

Ray rolled the rear window down. “It’s getting kind of stuffy in here,” he said.

East Texas night sounds began filling the car. The air was damp and still warm, the music of tree frogs and crickets flooding us with sound. Suddenly, it got quiet enough to hear a pin drop. Silence lasted only a moment. What we heard next sent a chill up my spine and caused the tiny hairs on the back of my neck to stand fully erect. It sounded like the piercing scream of a woman. In the almost total darkness, it was hard to tell if it came from a mile away, or a hundred feet from the car.We had little time to contemplate the answer as both the front and back doors opened abruptly. It was G and S. They were both out of breath and white as proverbial sheep in the momentary flicker of the overhead dome light.

“Get the hell out of here,” S said, huddling as close to Ray as she could possibly get, her arms draped around his neck in a virtual death lock.

G didn’t have to be told. Cranking the engine, she floored the under-powered six, spraying loose dirt as she spun away.

“What were you screaming about out there?” I asked, holding on to the door handle as G slid around a corner.

“It wasn’t us,” she said, still breathless.

To Be Continued

Louisiana Animals Confused by Hurricane Rita

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Ghost of a Chance Reviewed by Kirkus

Kirkus Discoveries recently reviewed Ghost of a Chance. The review is on their website at http://www.kirkusreviews.com/kirkusreviews/discoveries/article_display.jsp?vnu_content_id=1001217794 Please check it out.

Vivian Museum

Today I visited the Vivian Museum located in the old train depot on the west end of main street. It brought back memories because my cousin Ken and I rode the train from Shreveport to Vivian when we were little (ten or so). Amazingly, our parents let us take the trip by ourselves. I don't remember much about it except the train was noisy and the station in Vivian seemed large. It seemed small when I visited this morning. There was only one person there, Ms. Agnes Sullivan. She showed me around and I was impressed. Here are a few pics from my trip. Eric http://www.ericwilder.com http://ericwilder.blogspot.com http://justeastofeden.myblogspot.com http://energyissues.modblog.com

Eric Wilder to Appear on Clearchannel KAKC, Tulsa

Eric Wilder will appear on Clearchannel KAKC, Tulsa, on Monday, October 10th at 9:20 AM. Host Jeff Brucculeri and Wilder will discuss Ghost of a Chance and energy topics. http://ericwilder.blogspot.com http://www.ericwilder.com http://justeastofeden.myblogsite.com http://energyissues.modblog.com

Worried Sick in Northwest Louisiana

Today is the last day of summer and I'm spending it in Vivian, Louisiana. I arrived her a week ago today in response to my Mother's medical crisis. We checked her in to the hospital last Thursday for tests and she returned home to Vivian yesterday. She apparently has large cell lymphoma and likely needs her spleen removed. If successful, the surgery would be followed by chemotherapy.

Anyway, I had a few moments away from the hospital and took this photo of a dead possum in the road. Macabre, I know, but that's how I'm presently feeling. My Mother's condition frightens me, along with Hurricane Rita in the Gulf that is bearing down on relatives and friends, square in its path. These are troubled days. Eric Wilder

Vivian Confidential - Part Five

The Texas state line was only a short distance from the Tastee-Freez - no more than a few miles. Ray and I were still in the back seat when we reached the gas station there. The station's owner was a some-time actor and had appeared in several John Wayne movies. He was working the cash register that night, reading a newspaper and oblivious to the four Vivian teens buying gas at his station.

"Why don't you let me drive from here," I suggested. "I know the way and Ray can sit in back with S.I waited for G to protest.

Instead, she said, "You can ride in front with me but I'll drive."The turn-off to Stratford Lake lay a mile down the road. There were no street lights, only brilliant, golden, full moon illumination marking the way. When G slowed the Fairlane to turn on the dirt road to Stratford Lake, I experienced a moment of apprehension, and perhaps a slight twinge of guilt.Soon, even moonlight ebbed as we entered the dense, East Texas pine forest. G slowed to a near stop after bottoming the Fairlane in a Texas-sized pothole.

Long before we reached the lake, S spoke up from the back seat."This beer is going right through me. Can we stop for a minute?"

G slowed the car, then pulled it to a stop by the side of the road. We didn't have to worry about anyone hitting us. There wasn't another car within fifteen miles of our location. By now, Ray was holding S's hand.

"Want me to go with you?" he asked.

S didn't answer. She just made a face.

G laughed and said, "Get real."S climbed out of the back seat. When the door closed, the dome light went out. We sat there in total darkness, temperature in the car quickly warming, my glasses fogging in the humidity. Ten minutes passed.

"Maybe we better check on S," Ray said.

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Old Oil Well Picture

This is a picture of an old oil well located near Trees City, Louisiana. It is also very near Caddo Lake.

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Trees City, Louisiana

Here is an old photo of Trees City, Louisiana. After the discovery of oil near Caddo Lake, the place quickly grew from a tent city to a boom town with 25,000 residents. Little more than the town streets, faded memories and a few ghosts now remain.
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Eric's Kittys

Hamlet and Silky under the Christmas tree. OJ lounging.

Vivian Confidential - Part Four

Ray and I climbed into the back of G's tan Fairlane, G and S all smiles in the front seat. Yes, they apparently were as bored as we were.

"Let's drive down to the Bossier Strip," I suggested. "Go dancing at the Whisk-A-Go-go."

When Ray kicked my leg, I quickly remembered why that would be a bad idea. The main reason we had hitch-hiked to Vivian, anyway, was because we were both short on cash. I held my breath while waiting for the girls' answer, desperately trying to concoct a reason for backing out of the offer -- if they were to accept it. I needn't have worried.

"Sounds fun," G said, "But we have to drive over to the Stateline Road and get some gas."

Both girls were from nearby Hosston, a tiny town on the other side of Black Bayou. It was about 7 miles away via a winding road.

"Let us tag along and I'll show you the grave of the hanged abolishionist, out by Lake Stratford," I said.

"Tonight's a full moon and we might see the ghost."

"Ghost."Both girls giggled when they exclaimed the word in unison.

"You bet," I said. The hanged man had a giant German Sheppard. They say the dog lay under the tree for a week. Until someone finally cut down the body. After that, he disappeared and no one ever saw him again. At least alive.

"By this time, I had everyone's attention. Even Ray's. I was even scaring myself a little.

"Alive?" S said. "What do you mean?"

"Just that on the night of a full moon, the dog's been seen guarding the abolishionist's grave. You want me to show you?"

"There's no ghost," G said. "You're just trying to scare us."

"He scared me," S said.

Everyone laughed when Ray said, "Me too."

The laughter was all it took to bond us into a unified ghost hunting group and I took a deep, anticipatory breath as G cranked the car and spun her Fairlane's wheels in the gravel of the Tastee-Freez parking lot.
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Eric's Backyard

Here are a few pics I took today from my backyard. The dog is Velvet. Tonight, I counted 91 moonflowers.
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Vivian Confidential - Part Three

It's August, and hot. Just as it was one night many years ago. I was home for the weekend from college and I'd brought my roommate, Ray, with me. Like college students today, we didn't have a lot of money. We did have enough to buy two quart bottles of Schlitz and a five-pack of Swisher Sweets. After about two circuits of town, we were feeling pretty good, even if the streets were mostly deserted. I had a blue and white '59 Chevy station wagon. No very fast and not very flashy. At least we had a set of wheels.
A couple of hours had passed, our beer warm and we were bored. A large cherry coke at the Tastee-Freez sounded pretty good. Pulling slowly into the lot, we expected nothing more than a quick soda before heading home with our tails tucked between our legs. To our surprise, we found G-- and S-- in the parking lot, sitting in their Fairlane. It was easy to see that they were both also bored. G-- and S-- were also home from college for the weekend.
"I know these girls," I told Ray.
"Oh yeah? They're kinda cute. I like the brunette."
"You'll have to settle for the blonde," I said. "G's-- mine."
From their animation, I could tell they were happy to see us when we pulled in beside them . Hell! They would have been happy to see anyone if they were half as bored as Ray and I. G-- and S-- grinned wickedly when Ray flashed them a glimpse of his half-finished bottle of Schlitz.
I wasn't so sure.
Months before, I had broken up with G--. Not in a suave, sophisticated way, but like a mostly 18 year old feeling his oats and hormones. Even though G-- was smiling, my heart raced as Ray and I opened the car door and sauntered up to G's-- window - still rolled up.

Katrina's Path

As Katrina approaches the Louisiana coast, it is important to pray for the people of that state, and Mississippi, Alabama and Florida.  This blog is devoted to people and places in this region and my heart goes out to everyone affected by this monster storm.  http://www.ericwilder.com   http://ericwilder.blogspot.com   http://energyissues.modblog.com  http://justeastofeden.blogspot.com 

GORGEOUS ARKANSAS

Everyone knows that Arkansas is a gorgeous State, but it is also wonderful place to visit if you love geology. Here are some pictures taken on the banks of Lake Catherine, a locality near Hot Springs. Two of the pictures show intensly folded strata resulting from plate tectonics and the resultant building of the Ouachita Mountains. The man in the red jacket is Dr. Ron Konig, former head of the geology department at the University of Arkansas. The man in the red cap is John Rogers, co-author of a famous geology textbook. Also present are several other geologists whose names I can't recall. The bridge picture is actually in the Ozarks, but still gorgeous. http://www.ericwilder.com http://ericwilder.blogspot.com http://energyissues.modblog.com http://justeastofeden.myblogsite.com

GHOST OF A CHANCE

After traveling to a mysterious lake situated on the Texas-Louisiana border, Buck McDivit soon meets gorgeous Lila Richardson. He is instantly smitten. Lila runs an antique store in Deception, a little tourist town on the lake. Like the little town, Lila has her secrets.

She is the daughter of Colonel Clayton Richardson, the richest man in East Texas, and they live in an antebellum mansion rivaling Tara. Lila, in fact, is a latter-day Scarlett O'Hara, as Buck soon learns.

Ghost of a Chance is available on the web at Barnes and Noble, Amazon, Buy.com, and many other places. The best price is from the publisher at this link - http://www.publishamerica.com/shopping/shopdisplayproducts.asp?catalogid=9061

VIVIAN CONFIDENTIAL, PART II

Vivian is about a mile from the Texas border. There was a gas station on the Texas side then (still is) and we used to go there to get a few gallons because it was always a tad cheaper (still is) in Texas than in Louisiana. Not far from the gas station, the blacktop ends and a rutted dirt road disappears into thick pine forest. I'm not sure if the road is in Texas or Louisiana, but if you follow it successfully for about ten miles without hitting a deer or running into the ditch, you'll reach a little forest-shrouded body of water known as Stratford Lake.

In the 60's, someone got the idea to sell lots around the lake and develop it as a place to get away from the rat race of town. Someone should have told them that Vivian is away from the rat race of town. Anyway, a few dozen cabins and mobile homes soon sprang up around the little lake, each bulldozed lot fighting to retain its freedom from the always-encroaching southern forest replete with creeper vines and creepie-crawlies.

What few people knew was that Stratford had already been a community, long before the Civil War. They soon found old foundations, crumbling into damp Louisiana (or maybe Texas) earth. And there was a graveyard.

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Arklatex Map

Here is a map of the Arklatex, after a map by James H. Conrad.

ERIC'S MOONFLOWERS

Moonflowers are saucer-sized blooms that open toward late afternoon to early evening and close the following morning. This vine climbs walls and trees. Toward late August, early September, they can be seen blooming in the highest boughs of neighboring trees, exuding a wonderful, midnight perfume. A single bloom lasts only one short night, but a moonflower vine will spawn many delicate and fragrant flowers during the growing season. Tonight, the humidity in Edmond, Oklahoma is like a damp sheet, a storm approaching from the west saturating the air with heavy moisture -- a perfect evening for moonflowers, as I counted 25 blooms in the backyard. http://www.ericwilder.com http://ericwilder.blogspot.com http://justeastofeden.blogspot.com http://energyissues.modblog.com

VIVIAN CONFIDENTIAL - PART 1

Vivian is a little town lying amid the pine forests of hilly Northwest Louisiana. The one-block area that makes up downtown Vivian is mostly vacant, its once bustling store fronts now all but empty. No one has seen a movie in Vivian in twenty five years. Not since the Bijou shut down. At least I think that’s what it was called. The drive-in closed long before that, replaced by a bowling alley that’s also long gone.

Highway 1 cuts through Vivian, paralleling the railroad track. They both disappear on the outskirts of town, heading toward Shreveport, some 20 miles away. Several businesses, including the booming local Walmart, a Pizza Hut, a barbecue place and a couple other drive-throughs line Highway 1. When I was growing up, we had a lone ice cream place, the Tastee Freeze, and a drive-in café at the far end of town. Oh, and there were a few honky-tonks such as Mrs. Ray’s that mostly catered to old drunks and young people coming across the borders from Texas and Arkansas. 18 was the drinking age in Louisiana, 21 in Texas and Arkansas.
There was little going on in Vivian during the 60's. My friends and I would put a few dollars of gas into someone’s car and drive from one end of town to the next, hoping to attract girls. The girls had their own cars, own friends and were out flirting with the boys. Occasionally, we’d get lucky, the girls would leave their car at the Tastee Freeze and ride around town with us. When this happened, talk often turned to ghosts, the boys hoping to scare the girls and have them draw close; the girls usually feigning fear and cuddling up to us. Much of the 60's occurred before the sexual revolution and copping a quick feel of Sally’s breast was about as much excitement as any of us ever got.

TO BE CONTINUED

RED RIVER RAFT

The Red River begins in Colorado and flows east, toward Louisiana. It forms a physical barrier between much of Texas and Oklahoma, Texas to the south and Oklahoma to the north. In 1806, President Thomas Jefferson sent Peter Curtis and Thomas Freeman to explore the southern portion of the Louisiana Territory. They found the Red River clogged from bank to bank with trees, brush and impenetrable debris. The Great Raft acted as a dam, effectively raising the water level north and west of what is now the city of Shreveport. This system of interconnecting bayous and lakes, with time, became a watery pathway from New Orleans to Jefferson, Texas.

What did Jefferson have that brought up to 15 riverboats a day from New Orleans? Cotton. Michener talks about the superior quality of East Texas cotton in his novel Texas. Fortunes were established and antebellum mansions sprang up around Jefferson as goods and celebrities reached the booming town. At one point, Jefferson was the largest seaport in Texas.

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Sabine Uplift

A huge subsurface feature known as the Sabine Uplift underlies part of Northwest Louisiana, Southwest Arkansas, and East Texas. The surface expression of this buried structure is represented by the rolling, pine-covered hills of the region called the Arlatex by locals. The Sabine Uplift has trapped a wealth of oil and gas from formations both deep and shallow. Pictured are rows of tiny pumping units near Vivian, Louisiana that produce oil from a depth of around 1,000'. Subtropical vines with brilliant blooms grow in the tree tops near these little wells that are located a mile or so from Black Bayou.

Potter's Point

This article was reprinted in its entirety from The Handbook of Texas Online

AMES, HARRIET A. MOORE PAGE POTTER (1810-1902). Harriet Ames, subject of an early Texas community-property case, the daughter of Francis Moore, was born on August 18, 1810. She left her home and small retail business in New Orleans and accompanied her improvident husband, Solomon C. Page, to Texas before the revolution of 1836. Not long after their arrival Page joined the army, abandoning Harriet and their two small children without provisions in an isolated house on the prairie surrounding Austin Bayou. They survived by gathering wild plants until they were finally rescued and brought to Brazoria, where Harriet sold some store goods she had brought from New Orleans and learned farming from her brother's wife. During the Runaway Scrape^qv Robert Potter,^qv secretary of the Texas Navy,^qv took her and her children to Galveston under his protection and gave them refuge on a navy vessel until after the battle of San Jacinto.^qv Refusing Solomon Page's plea for reconciliation, she journeyed to New Orleans with the intention of setting out for Kentucky to live with her grandmother. Potter, who was with her, offered to arrange the journey; but instead, he executed a series of deceptive maneuvers that ultimately took them back to Texas and his property on the Sabine River in Shelby (now Harrison) County.

Harriet refused Potter's proposals of marriage until he convinced her that her marriage to Page was invalid in Texas because it had not been solemnized by a priest, and in September 1836 they were married by bond. They lived for a year on the Sabine while they built a home at Potter's Point on Ferry (Caddo) Lake in Red River (now Marion) County. They had two children, and Robert Potter served in the Fifth and Sixth Texas congresses; he assured Harriet that he had introduced a law in Congress validating marriages like theirs. Potter became involved in the Regulator-Moderator War,^qv and on March 2, 1842, he was murdered by William P. Rose^qv and a contingent of Regulators. When his will, made in Austin less than a month before his death, was probated, it revealed that he had left the land on which the homestead stood to a Sophia Mayfield of Austin, and another part of his headright and some horses, slaves, and all of the household furnishings and farming stock to Harriet, named in the will as Mrs. Harriet A. Page.

Harriet remarried in August or September 1842, and with her new husband, Charles Ames, continued to reside on the Potter homestead. Sophia Mayfield died in 1852 without ever attempting to take possession of Potter's bequest, and it was sold by the administrator of her estate. In July 1857 the purchasers filed suit to try title against Harriet and Charles Ames. After years of amended pleadings the case of Lewis v. Ames was tried in Marion County District Court in April 1872 and judgment was rendered in Harriet's favor (Ames had died in 1866). The case was reversed and remanded by the Texas Supreme Court in 1875. The controlling issue was whether Harriet had been Potter's legal wife and was therefore entitled to assert a community interest in the property. Chief Justice O. M. Roberts^qv held that the remedial statutes passed by the Texas legislature to validate irregular marriages contracted under Mexican sovereignty did not affect Harriet Ames's alleged bond marriage: Potter's failure to mention a wife or children among the enumerated beneficiaries and his reference to Harriet as Mrs. Page indicated that he did not regard their living arrangement as a marriage. Harriet was dispossessed from the property at Potter's Point and lived in New Orleans for many years with the children of her third marriage. At the age of eighty-three she wrote her reminiscences, which are now in the Barker Texas History Center,^qv University of Texas at Austin. She died in Covington, Louisiana, on March 18, 1902.

BIBLIOGRAPHY: Louis Wiltz Kemp, The Signers of the Texas Declaration of Independence (Salado, Texas: Anson Jones, 1944; rpt. 1959). James Norvell, "Ames Case Revisited," Southwestern Historical Quarterly 63 (July 1959). Texas Supreme Court, Texas Reports: Cases Adjudged in the Supreme Court, Vol. 44.

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Dogs

I have two big dogs, Lucky and Velvet. My deceased wife, Anne, bought Lucky a few months before she passed away. He is a full-blood Labrador Retriever and he has been my best friend for many years. When I would sit in my chair and cry, feeling sorry for myself, Lucky would stare at me with his big brown eyes. "Is there something I can do?" his eyes seemed to say.

For a couple of years, I took him with me every where I went. He is such a large dog -- 110 pounds -- this became hard to do. When I had an appointment, I had to leave him at the house. He was so needy! While visiting a PetSmart, I adopted a dog named Slick, a gorgeous Gordon Setter. He and Lucky got along and, for awhile, I could actually get a little work done during the day.

Slick had a problem! He could jump over a six-foot stockade fence and he liked to run. Every night, I would have to track him down and bring him home. He took to following two twin boys that lived in my neighborhood. When their mother called, I knew what she wanted before she showed up at my door.

"My family loves Slick. The boys, my husband and my other children are crazy about him. You don't have time to give him your full attention, do you?
I had to admit that I didn't.

Once again, Lucky and I were alone (I had my cats, but those of you that have kitty's know that they own you, not the other way around).

Anyway, I was visiting my pool service on Western in OKC. A pretty puppy came from the back, wagging its tail. "What a nice dog," I said.

"If you like her, you better take her. The boss says we're going to put her out on the street at five."

I took the puppy with me. She had an attitude, putting my 110 pound Lab in his place with a nip. I fully intended to put an ad in the paper and give her away to some well deserving family. Before that happened, I got attached. So did Lucky! Velvet, a German Shepard mix, became part of the family.

I have had a wonderful spouse and so many personal friends pass away, leaving me to cope on my own, and so many pets, King Tut, Chani, Mad Max, Silky -- I just have to take a deep breath and remember that I still have both of my wonderful parents (I didn't always believe they were so wonderful! But they are), a couple of favorite Aunts (no better in the whole world!), a few cousins, in particular, and so many friends. Thank you, God. I am blessed. Eric

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Myrtis Mill Pond

Like country towns all over, there was little to do growing up in Vivian. Located ten miles from the Arkansas and Texas borders, the pines are tall and hills rolling. The drinking age in Texas and Arkansas is 21, the same as when I was a young man. In Louisiana, it was 18. Because of this, many honky-tonks lined both sides of the road. On Fridays, young Texans and Arkansans would stream across the border and populate the many roadside taverns. Fights and arguments often ensued. Like the rest of Louisiana, the elevation around Vivian is low. The town is surrounded by water, Black Bayou, Caddo Lake and hundreds of ponds and streams. Toward the Texas border is a small body of water called the Myrtis Mill Pond. During high school, a killing took place near there, a hammer the murder weapon. I wrote a short story about it called Southern Fried Murder and it was published in the Red Herring Mystery Magazine. Some of the characters, Sheriff Harmon Antley and Mrs. Bea, the honky-tonk owner, were drawn from memory. Later, when I wrote Ghost of a Chance, I used some of the characters from Southern Fried Murder. You can check out the short story, if you'd like, on my blog http://ericwilder.blogspot.com/ http://ghostofachance.blogspot.com/ http://www.ericwilder.com/ http://energyissues.modblog.com/

Ghost of the Headless Conductor

There is a scene in the novel Ghost of a Chance where Buck Mcdivit sees a light coming from the water’s edge. Having recently witnessed what he thinks is a ghost, he investigates to find Wiley Johnson, fishing off the marina’s dock by the light of a flickering lantern. Wiley offers Buck a beer, listens to his ghost story then tells him one of his own.

“Sounds like a paranormal occurrence, at the very least.”

Wiley explains that he once checked out the local legend of a ghost that supposedly haunts the railroad track near Crossett, Arkansas — the ghost of a train conductor that literally lost his head during a railroad accident.

As every writer knows, there is a little truth in all fiction. This is true of the story about the headless conductor — a ghost I saw with my own eyes.

While attending college in Monroe, Louisiana, I worked at a bowling alley. Much in the manner of all fine Louisiana establishments, the bowling alley had a lounge. After closing at midnight, I, along with Trellis, the mechanic, Chuck, my roommate who also worked at the bowling alley, and Joe, the manager had a few drinks in the lounge. The discussion led to ghosts, the headless conductor of Crossett in particular, and we were in the right frame of mind to check it out for ourselves.

Crossett is a little town in Southern Arkansas, not far from the Louisiana border. We stopped at a convenience store along the way to make sure we had enough beer for the trip. After passing through Crossett, we crossed the railroad track and parked beside the road. A jillion stars lit the clear Autumn sky — a good thing as we hadn’t thought to bring a flashlight. Joe waited in the car while Trellis, Chuck and I walked down the dark track in search of the headless ghost. Even in our advanced state of inebriation, we never really expected to see it, but see it we did.

Darkness and surrounding trees and vegetation made it hard to judge distances, but we almost immediately saw something on the track in front of us — a hundred yards, perhaps a thousand yards away. It was a dim, incandescent blob of light that danced just above the tracks. When we moved toward it, it moved away. When we walked away from it, it chased us.

We stayed on the tracks for what must have been an hour, the dancing blob of light present the entire time. We all saw it, even Joe, the bowling alley manager that had driven us to Crossett. Joe didn’t drink alcohol.

We saw something. Granted, it may have been swamp gas, or some other unexplained phenomena. What it seemed like to me was an entity, a real being that sensed our presence, meant us no harm but had fun “playing” with us. Don’t believe me? Then I urge you to go to Crossett, Arkansas and check it out for yourself.

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Uncertain Texas

Yes, Virginia, there really is an Uncertain, Texas. It's a little hard to find, but it's worth the look.

Steamy Caddo Lake

Caddo Lake, in East Texas and Northwest Louisiana, is the location of Eric Wilder's new novel, Ghost of a Chance. Protagonist Buck McDivit leaves his home in Oklahoma and travels to East Texas. Someone has murdered his newly found Aunt Emma Fitzgerald. Buck is apparently the sole heir to Fitzgerald Island, andthe marina and fishing lodge on it. Here is an excerpt from Ghost, describing what Buck saw when he first arrived:

"James T. "Buck" McDivit had come to Texas for answers. What he found was a giant lake amid a maze of vines, creepers and lily pads. A place that seemed more like Louisiana than Texas. He quickly realized it was different from both states. Cypress trees grew in abundance, both in the water and out, and Spanish moss, wafting in slow-motion waves, hung from their limbs, caressing the lake's coffee-colored surface. Only the head of a slow-swimming snake disrupted the lake's tranquillity.

East Texas was a place far different from Buck's own home on the flat plains of central Oklahoma. This was a mysterious locale that seemed like a virtual botanical garden replete with subtropical greenery and a climate to match. Buck felt a thousand miles from home.

Interstate highway, replaced by rural Texas blacktop, had long since disappeared in his rearview mirror. Untended hollyhocks, blooming in lavender flower falls that saturated humid air with their cloying fragrances, grew wild beside the road. Damp pathways, none leading anywhere in particular, pierced the tangle of vegetation as a flock of cattle egrets winged high overhead.

Egrets weren't the only wildlife in abundance, nor were oak, cypress and hollyhock the only plants bordering the road. Cascades of blue impatiens, crimson-blossomed rosebushes and clumps of green willow painted the terrain from a diverse palette of color. "

East Texas is indeed an exotic and mysterious area. Buck meets Pearl and Raymond Johnson, caretakers of Fitzgerald Marina, and their two sons, Ray and Wiley. He soon learns that someone has designs on the islands and is intent upon wresting it from him. Could it be relentless land developer Hogg Nation? Maybe it's Colonel Clayton Richardson, bank and ultra-wealthy plantation owner that has a mortgage on the island. Possibly it's Jefferson Travis, racist judge that leads the New Southern Right, a local hate group. Could it be Bones Malone, amateur archeologist and relic hunter, and former lover of Emma Fitzgerald. And, there are two recently released recidivists, Deacon John and Humpback. These skinheads are after lost Confederate gold from a sunken riverboat and don't care who they have to kill to find it.

Buck meets beautiful Lila Richardson, local antiquities expert and daughter of Clayton Richardson, and is instantly smitten. Is she as complicit as her father and racist uncle, Judge Jefferson Travis? Can Buck really trust her?

Many interesting characters inhabit Fitzgerald Island and the touristy village of Deception. Will Buck get the girl? Will he save the island? Will he save himself? Read Ghost of a Chance and find out. It is available at your local bookstore, many places on the web and for $16.95 at the PublishAmerica website. Please check out Eric's website. http://www.ericwilder.com

Ghost of a Chance

Ghost of a Chance is available at the PublishAmerica website. http://www.publishamerica.com/shopping/shopdisplayproducts.asp?catalogid=9061
It can also be found at many sites on the web. For the best prices on this book, or any other, check out http://www.campusi.com And please, check Eric Wilder's website at http://www.ericwilder.com