The Runner

I went running last Sunday night and I took Austin with me. I tried to take it slow so that he wouldn't get too tired and worn out. It turns out that my caution was unwarranted as young Austin proceeded to run his old man into the ground. He completed the 1.5 mile run without stopping and apparently without any real effort. I ended the run gasping for breath, hoping not to pass out, only to see Austin looking at me as if he had just run the length of the driveway. I think that we might have a cross-country star in the making.

School Rezoning Update

I wrote in an earlier post that our neighborhood was scheduled to be moved from our current Elementary School. Cooler heads have prevailed and Kara will not have to change schools next year.

To make a long story short, I ended up on the planning committee itself. The latest plan pitted our neighborhood against another and I came to the meeting loaded for bear. When I arrived the entire situation was defused as a member of the Prince William County School Board sent a message to the committee that he would not support moving either of the two neighborhoods and to reconsider. As a result, our community was placed back into our current school and things went on from there.

This is such an explosive topic for us because the school we go to is absurdly close and logic dictates that moving us would be simply mad. Let me put this in perspective. If you have been to my house, you may remember the stoplight located at the entrance of my development. The school in question is less than 1,000 feet south of this stoplight. Meanwhile, the planning committee was placing other students at this school that live more than 5 miles away.

One thing I learned at the committee meeting is that PWC goes through this tortuous process every few years. The plan that we are presenting to the School Board will be in place until 2008, so Kara should be immune to any such disruption for her entire Elementary School term.

Robeson County Player in Trouble

I just ran across this story about Sean Locklear who hails from Lumberton and attended NC State. This guy had to have played West Robeson (or Purnell Sweat, I can't remember which one it is) when he was in High School.

Bike Show

Ricky and I took some rare time off and headed to downtown Washington D.C. to catch the 2006 Cycle World Motorcycle Show. It turned out to be a great chance to see all the new bikes coming out this year. The big players were all there in force; Yamaha, Honda, Suzuki, Kawasaki, BMW, Harley, Ducati, MV Agusta to name a few.

You were allowed to touch and sit on just about every bike in the arena.

Memorable Bikes:

Yamaha M1 - Rossi's race bike was right at the front door. There are several shots of this bike in the gallery linked below. When Ricky and I looked into the exhaust pipe, all we could see was pipe, no packing at all! It was pretty cool to see all the additional sensors deployed on the bike; speed sensors front and back, fork travel sensors, etc. Look at the closeup I took of the M1's front wheel for details.

2006 Yamaha R6 - This bike garnered more than its fair share of interest. I overhead a couple of guys describing it as a "race bike with lights". If this show was any indication, Yamaha has the rest of the middleweights covered this year. The upcoming race season will tell.

2006 Honda Goldwing - This is the first production motorcycle that ships with an onboard airbag system. This looked a little strange, but I would like to see if it has any real world impact on a crash. Note that I said I would like to see this, not volunteer for it.

2006 BMW K1200S - Ricky really took a shine to this bike. I didn't get a shot of it, but this bike really fit him good.

2006 Limited Edition Suzuki Hayabusa - Ricky's love affair with the bus continues.

Yamaha seemed to have more bikes than anyone else, as they had multiple version of the big sellers on hand (R1 & R6 in multiple colors).

One thing I did buy was a set of custom fitted earplugs made onsite by a vendor. More on these after I roadtest them.


2006 Cycle World Show - Washington Convention Center

Late Christmas

Mom and Dad were up here last week for a rescheduling of the Wave Technologies holiday party. When we went to Grandpa Pete's funeral just after Christmas, we did not bother to bring our presents with us, preferring to limit our focus to mourning, and family matters rather than bring Christmas into the picture. Mom and Dad's presence here last Thursday night allowed us to give them our Christmas presents. Everything went well, but the big hit of the night was Dad's new "flashlight", and I use the term loosely. There are not too many flashlights than have 15,000,000 candlepower. Make sure you ask him about it the next time you see him.

Basketball Season has started

This is a late post, but I did not mention that Austin's basketball season started last Saturday. His team won the game and started their season off with a bang. I can't bring myself to mention their team name, but that is laid out in gory detail in an earlier post.

Tribal Names

One disturbing realization from Grandpa Pete's funeral is that I don't have a definitive list of the family's tribal names. I'd like to capture them here. Please comment or email me with the tribal names that you know and I'll keep a current list.

Name	Tribal Name	English Translation
Denny	Cateloca	Red Turtle
Denny II	Locarakko	Big Turtle
Ray		Little Turtle
Mike		Painted Turtle
Tracy	Loca Yekku	Snapping Turtle
Kellie	Loca Em Sutu	Turtle of the Sky
Austin	Loca Yufekchu
Kara	Yupu
Ray (Kerry)	Loca Tekcv	Snapping Turtle
Dakota	Loca Ekv nv	Land Turtle
Dylan	Loca Lane	Green Turtle
Skye		Smiling Turtle

Update: I added Debbie's submissions today [Denny - 1/12/06]

Tarheels?

Austin and I received the bad news last night. While we were in Robeson County last week, Austin's basketball team voted on a name. If you've read the title to this post, you can see it coming. Yes, Virginia, the team name is the 'Tarheels'. When this was announced at last night's practice, both of us stood in stunned silence. I tried to console Austin on the ride home by explaining to him that this was simply an obstacle to overcome, a little adversity that life occasionally throws our way. Democracy doesn't always go your way.

Silver Lining: At least the uniform isn't powder blue.

Lumbee?

I was watching Penn State play Forida State in the Orange Bowl last night and I noticed that Penn State had a strong safety named 'Calvin Lowry'. I did a little research and I think he might be a Lum. Take a look here.

41 and counting

Today marks the 41st celebration of one of the greatest days in Laurinburg, NC history. On this day, I was born. Many thanks to friends and family for observing the day. A tradition among the Clark household is that on your birthday, you are entitled to a meal of your choice. On this occasion, I chose to dine in the hallowed halls of Hard Times Cafe. A finer meal outside of Robeson County cannot be found.

A Song for Mr. Spotted Turtle

At the funeral, Barbara Braveboy-Locklear gave the eulogy. It is reprinted here in its entirety.

A Song for Mr. Spotted Turtle

© 2005
Barbara Braveboy-Locklear

Let us not cry because he died. Let us laugh because he lived. "Mr. Pete" would want us to laugh today like thousands of students did upon reporting to his ninth grade math class on the first day of each school year at Pembroke High School. No ninth grade student had to ask who the math teacher was, or where the classroom was located because Mr. Pete Clark WAS the ninth grade math teacher and his classroom was the SAME one he'd ultimately teach in for 30 consecutive years. I was privileged to be one of his students. That fateful first day of school year 1959-60, I walked westward down the school hall and entered the last classroom on the left where he stood. After the school bell signaled class would begin, Mr. Pete awed his students to silence when he walked to the blackboard at the front of the classroom, picked up two pieces of chalk and began writing his name with both hands simultaneously. Afterwards, eager to introduce mathematics to a roomful of young know-it-all's, he drew a huge circle on the blackboard and said it symbolized the earth. He asked if the earth was round or flat? Wanting to impress our new teacher, in unison we exclaimed, "The Earth is round!" Smiling sheepishly, Mr. Pete strolled over to the blackboard and gently placed his hand in the middle of the circle and said, "This earth is not round. It is flat!" The entire class burst into laughter. Thus was my formal introduction to this amazing man.

*********************************

At his birth on June 28, 1919, he was given the Christian name of Raymond Leslie Clark, but he was better known by his childhood nickname of "Mr. Pete," a namesake of Pete Jones, a black farmhand hired by his maternal grandfather. Both his parents were Indian, his mother a Lumbee from Robeson County and his father a Cheraw-Creek from South Carolina. Having grown up in Pembroke, he was the third oldest of four sisters and two brothers. During summer months he worked in farm fields as a day laborer, and when he didn't have to work he fished from the dark waters of the Lumbee River and hunted in its woods. He attended the Indian graded school and racially segregated Indian Normal High School where he played football and baseball. In addition to athletics and schoolwork, he took on additional lessons about the Indian spiritual traditions taught him by his father who learned them from his Creek Indian mother, Annie Caulk, who lies in hallowed ground a few yards away in this church's cemetery.

As a boy Mr. Pete knew that his father attended the mysterious meetings at the Red Man's Lodge in Pembroke. There his father would join in celebrating his spiritual heritage as an American Indian, keeping things under wraps for fear of persecution. So it was that 12-year-old Raymond, his father determined, could keep the faith, and also keep it quiet. The youth one day was to pass on the religious beliefs, when the time was right. Though raised as a Baptist, he embraced native spiritual traditions as a member of the Lumbee tribe. God was never distant in his life. To the contrary God was a constant in Raymond Clark's life. He recognized that the spirit of Christianity and his ancient religion was essentially the same, and that all religious aspiration, all sincere worship, can have but one source and goal. He inherently believed that it makes no difference as to the name of the God, since love is the real God of the world and that there are many ways to God and that all religions are mere stepping-stones back to Him. Therefore, believing there were many powers at work in the world and that the spirit pervaded all creation, he chose the universe with its abounding earth, as his church and from it all he drew spiritual power.

Another constant in Mr. Pete's life was his love for his family, country and tribal communities. In 1936 he graduated from high school, attended college at Pembroke State for one year, then left school so he could make enough money to continue his education later. It would be 13 years, through a variety of jobs, a war, and the start of his own family, before he received his college diploma from Pembroke State College, graduating with a very impressive 3.94 grade point average.

In 1940 - at age 21- he married Estelle Revels, a 20-year-old Lumbee Indian beauty. Three sons were born to the couple. The young husband enlisted in the US Navy and served in war on the USS Henry W. Tucker, a destroyer, in the Pacific. Until his death, he was one of the few Special "Q" surviving personnel that worked on the development of RADAR for the Naval Research Laboratory during wartime. After serving in World War II, Mr. Pete worked as an electrician, used the GI Bill to earn his teaching certificate from Pembroke State College in 1949, bought his family a home on Union Chapel Road, and took a job in a car plant in Detroit for six months before returning to Pembroke where he accepted a teaching position at Pembroke High School. He taught mathematics for 30 consecutive years at the same school. There he cemented a life-to-death friendship with Mr. Fred Lowry, a fellow Lumbee. The two buddies were practically inseparable; they finished high school together, college together, taught at the same school together for three decades, and retired together and spent many-a -day fishing on the banks of the Lumbee River, while chewing tobacco and exchanging tales.

After retiring in 1980, the educator absorbed himself in teaching American Indian customs, primarily to youth. Believing that teaching should come from within instead of without his greatest strength in working with children was his gentleness. At age 61, he grew his hair long in the back and became known as an Indian elder and teacher. Not unlike another ethnic man of biblical times, he suffered scorn because of his religious beliefs and teachings. Yet, he was a mainstay in the traditional ways of the tribe. Borrowing rightfully from the heritage of his Creek grandmother of the Turtle Clan, he adopted Spotted Turtle as his Indian name and subsequently named his three sons some kind of turtle. Oldest son Ray became known as "Little Turtle", Dennis was named "Red Turtle", and Michael is "Painted Turtle". He had earlier -- when the time was right -- holding fast to the words of his own father, passed on the traditional religious teachings to each of his sons. He considered the fundamentals of education to be love of the Great Mystery, love of nature, and love of people and country. He left many good moccasin tracks along his earthly trail. Over 30 years ago he, along with Mr. Earl "Many Skins" Carter and others, formed what is today known as the Lumbee Tribal Elders Council, a cultural organization extolling the importance of working hard, keeping the ceremonies, living peaceably, and uniting hearts. The organization was chartered by the state of North Carolina in 1995. A wisdom keeper in every sense of the word, Mr. Spotted Turtle lived much loved and respected by people of all ages, especially Indian youth. Tribal organizations recognized his civic and community contributions with numerous awards including the coveted "Henry Berry Lowrie Award" from the Lumbee Regional Development Association, and the "Indian Elder of the Year Award" from the United Indian Tribes of North Carolina and the Native American Youth Organization.

In closing, Mr. Spotted Turtle lived his life that the fear of death could never enter his heart. He inherently understood that when one loses the rhythm of the drumbeat of God, he becomes lost from life's peace and rhythm. He was satisfied with needs instead of wants and knew that sharing and giving are the ways of God. He acknowledged that his earthly life was blessed in countless ways. He served his country in wartime and returned home safely to his wife and children. He married the Indian woman he loved, and loved her until she died in 1986, ending their 46-year-old marriage. He was immensely proud of his three sons and lived to see them become adults and have children of their own who held "Grand Paw" in highest esteem. He shared adulthood with his siblings and enjoyed the highest type of friendship -- that of brother-friends -- with his surviving brother Barto and his wife Geraldine, who affectionately called him "Rame."

He lived much respected among his people. With an understanding that God teaches even the birds to make nests, yet the nests of all birds are not alike, he troubled no one about their religious views and appreciated the respect given his. Raymond Leslie Clark walked through life and left footprints. He lived to see and know that his earthly labors touched eternity through his life's service to his family, the children whom he taught, and his leadership and service in tribal communities. No one can ask for more.

Finally, I leave you with a poem by writer Canon Henry Scott Holland

The Next Room

"Death is nothing at all...I have only slipped away into the next room. I am I, and you are you. Whatever we were to each other that we still are. Call me by my old familiar name; speak to me in the easy way, which you always used. Put no difference in your tone; wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow. Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes we enjoyed together. Pray, smile, think of me - let my name be ever the household word that is always was, let it be spoken without effect, without the trace of a shadow on it. Life means all that it ever meant. It is the same as it ever was, there is unbroken continuity. Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight? I am waiting for you, for an interval, somewhere very near, just round the corner. All is well."


Amen.