NOVEMBER 1, 1997

It was another slow Saturday afternoon as I sat on the couch in my little house on 26th Avenue in Eugene.  My dog, Jack was looking at me as if he was saying, "lets get out of here and go for a walk."  He persuaded me to get up, get his leash and get in the car to go out to Buford Park for our usual weekend hike.   It was that time of year when my little gardening and landscaping business was tapering off, and at the end of September I had been laid off from the seasonal farm job I took up with in the summer months, as a mechanic and equipment operator on a grass seed farm near Harrisburg.   

When we arrived at the park, Jack and I set out on the same old trail we always took.   As we headed up the trail we noticed a work party sign with an arrow pointing to the left.   It was a side trial I had been on before and it tied back into the main trail we were on up the hill.   Out of curiosity, I decided to take it again to see what the work party was all about.   As we rounded a corner, I noticed a red headed woman wearing jeans with her backside showing as she was slightly bent over cutting brush with loppers.    My first thought was, what a good looking woman and why is she cutting brush uphill from the trail.   There were six or seven people in the work party, cutting brush both below and above the trail.   As I approached the group, I asked what they were doing?   They told me they were cutting invasive species, such as blackberries and scotch broom.   The redheaded woman came down to get into the conversation and admired Jack.   A few minutes later Jack and I continued hiking up the trail until we came to a muddy portion and I decided to turn back.   We could have gone around the muddy portion, but the thought of the work party and the red headed woman intrigued me, especially the twinkle in her eyes.   (Later Celia told me that as Jack and I continued our hike, she thought that is probably the last we will see of him and besides, he is probably a married man or has a girl friend)   

   When we came back by the the group, I informed them I would be interested in joining them in the future.  This immediately got the attention of the red headed woman, who introduced herself as Celia and the group leader, a man by the name of Stewart, who told me about the Friends of Buford Park and Mt. Pisgah, which they were part of.    I handed my business card to Celia telling her I was available and asking her to give me a call when the next work party was.   About two weeks later she called to inform me of a work party that next weekend.   (Later she said she did not want to call me too early to avoid looking too eager)    After a few work parties and a meeting of the group that followed our initial meeting, the sparks started flying between us and a special friendship was developing.

What happened that day changed my life for almost the next 24 years, and definitely for the better.    We both looked back on it as divine intervention in bringing us together and Jack may have been responsible too.