Thanks, Village.

I never read Hillary Rodham Clinton's It Take a Village, but after this first year of parenthood I am so appreciative of the village David and I have around us. We have our families and friends and the virtual community who has supported every moment of Kiara's well-documented first year. So, thank you.

Thanks for helping us prepare for our baby-girl before she came. Thank you for welcoming her when she arrived, and for providing parenting guidance in those early, frightening days, weeks, and months. Thanks for celebrating every little milestone along with us and for putting up with the over-exposure of KHarp on social media. We love our little girl and know she feels the love of this village. Thank you.

The Dukes of Hazzard

When #childhoodmemories trends on twitter, it's the twitterverse asking for a new blog post. So here's a memory of my brother, Mitch, and them Duke boys.

Dukes of Hazzard

M

om doesn't like us watching the Dukes of Hazzard. She says it's unrealistic to have all of those car crashes and then show people walking away without a scratch. She also doesn't like how the cops are stupid and those "good ol' boys" always get away. She doesn't like the Duke boys' car either because it has the Confederate flag on the top. Somehow that means they are racist. 

But Mitch and I like watching that show and I like Luke Duke. He has dark hair and grey eyes. Most of the girls in my class like Bo Duke because he looks like a Ken doll. I also like how Daisy Duke has brown hair instead of blonde. I get the feeling Mom doesn't like Daisy Duke though because she hates it when I tie up my t-shirts like Daisy does. 

Mitch and I play hide and seek in the backyard. He counts from the willow tree, which is home base, while I run to hide behind the woodpile by the back porch. I can barely hear him counting. He gets to twenty and peeks out from the side of the tree. I try to keep an eye on him but can't see him when I hear a strange crash and Mitch starts yelling. He shouts so loudly I know we aren't playing hide and seek anymore. Mitch still has a strong accent but I can tell he's saying something about the Dukes of Hazzard. I run to the willow tree and there is a car right there in our backyard. Mitch shows me with his hands and crashing sound effects how the car jumped from the road, crashed through the fence, and landed between two apple trees. We run to the house to tell Mom. I try to explain but Mitch just keeps saying, "Dukes of Hazzard, Dukes of Hazzard!" Mom doesn't believe us until we pull her to the backyard and she sees the car sitting there.

Mom herds us inside and calls the police. She keeps hugging and kissing us both repeating, "My god, he could have killed you." 

With Mom's arms tight around me, I remember Greg Bob lying in his casket, and for just a second, I imagine Mitch or myself lying lifeless beneath the branches of the willow tree. Sirens blare from outside and Mom lets us go.

Mitch and I run upstairs to Chet's room to watch the police and ambulance from the window. They pull a man from the car and he looks like he's okay as he stumbles toward the ambulance. Mom talks to the police by the front door but I can't hear what they say. 

Mitch keeps saying, "Yee haw!" just like those Duke boys do when they go flying down the dirt roads of Hazzard County.

Through Eyes Like Mine is available at Amazon, Powell's, or for order from your local book seller.