Franklin D. Vipperman
Being the son of a coal mining, bootlegging Father from the mountains of Virginia, he was taught to hunt and fish shortly after learning to walk. His Father secluded him from the rest of the family, and he never really got to know his salt of the earth Mother, which resulted in tragedy and grave sorrow.
After reluctantly marrying his little sister’s best friend, he returned to Alaska where he was in the Army, and his new daughter was the first baby born after Alaska becoming a state. And he loved her with all of his heart. He wanted to stay in Alaska, and hopefully make his first fortune, but his young wife didn’t share those same ambitions with him.
The Author has spent the past thirty some years attempting to enlighten the unknowing public about the horrendously corrupt legal and judicial systems of this country, through his first hand knowledge, written in the pages of his four previous books.
He is now reachig back to his boyhood and early manhood to “Another Time” where he larned of the sometimes happiness, sorrow, and tragedies that we almost all live through as we pass through the twilight of our lives. A place where we alone can seek out briefly, for a few fleeting moments, and delve into the hallowed treasures or sadness of our wonderous memories. Where only through the eyes of the beholder, can we alone find and return to.
I pushed the butt of my rifle into the ground and lifted myself to my feet. The squirrel still didn’t move. He just watched me with those big dark eyes. I turned and started walking toward the farm. I went about ten steps and stopped and turned around looking back at the squirrel. He was just fooling around in no hurry, looking for a nut to eat. I couldn’t figure out why he hadn’t ran, and especially when I had gotten up and started walking. But no, he wasn’t in the least bit afraid of me, and just continued about his business. And there was my answer....
As I walked slowly down the long sloping hillside toward the farm, I suddenly got a warm feeling of well being. I felt as though I had finally found my answer to life. And there wasn’t a word, or a group of words that I could think of that explained what I felt. It was something within my soul. It was silent, but it all seemed to rush into my head at the same instant. Though not really being religious, I did at that time believe in God. And it seemed to me that God had already chosen, or at least would at some time choose, the time and place that he would take my life back. He had only let me use it until he decided I had it long enough. By my actions, right or wrong, good or bad, some purpose was being served. And when there was no longer a purpose, there would no longer be a use for my life. I decided at that very moment, that I had someone looking out for me, and he would be there at all times. If he didn’t want me to do something, he would find a way to stop me. And if he did want me to do something, he would find a way for me to do it. At that very moment, walking down the slope of the hillside above my aunt and uncle’s farm, I felt my life had a purpose after all. And, from then on, I wouldn’t question what it was. That would take care of itself....
“No Frank. As a matter of fact, he won’t be coming home.” I sat across from her and watched as her face turned into a grimacing flood of agony. Her old wrinkled hands clenched tightly together, and the whites of her knuckles were showing very plainly through the wrinkled slender fingers. Tears started rolling down her cheeks, and onto her flower patterned dress. “Frank, Merrill was killed a few weeks ago.” My breath caught, and my throat swelled shut. My eyes started burning, and I wanted to cry so badly. Choking back the tears I told her how terribly sorry I was to hear about it. “He was a good boy Frank. And had a lot to live for. Losing him was almost more than I could bare. You know, I raised him from a baby. And cared for him all his life just like he was my own son. But, I suppose God had other plans for him, and took him to a better place.” I sat there feeling so very sorry for the old woman knowing that she was now all by herself. Her husband had died many years ago, and Merrill was her whole life. I didn’t know
what to say. “The last letter I got from him, he said he was lonesome and wished he was home. Then a few days later, I received the news from the Army that he was dead. Some how or another he had a bad accident while on what they called maneuvers. That’s all I know about it. I didn’t have no money for funeral expenses, so the Army buried him back there somewhere. I didn’t even get to go to his funeral.”
