Another Family Blessing

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I realize I'm a bit late with this. I haven't been on my blog site for several weeks. On September 1st, we had another wonderful blessing. Xander Stoddard was born to my beautiful daughter, Kristen and her husband Nate. We are excited with this newest addition. Isn't he cute?


... and so is Mama!

Welcome to our family Xander


About Paul West

Paul West is a freelance writer and novelist. Born and raised in the San Francisco Bay Area, Paul claims to be a "Prune Picker," though he now makes his home in Taylorsville, Utah.

You can follower him on Twitter: @PaulWWest

Published: Friday, October 14, 2011

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I was just looking at some pictures I have of Port Costa and Crockett taken back in the 1960s and 1950s. Boy, I sure miss those days. I was only a kid, and probably didn't realize all the problems we had back then, but I can't believe they were any worse than what we're going through now. Yes, we had Nikita Kruschev threatening to bury us and threatening nuclear war, and Fidel Castro rattling his saber as a puppet of the Soviet Union. But those were external threats, things we could deal with. But today's threats are internal, Obama pretending to be a conservative while actually being a fascist, openly wishing he could be a dictator. His advisers secretly being communists and plotting the overthrow of our government.

I sat this morning looking at some pictures of a train taking on passengers at Crockett in 1956, thinking times were so much simpler in those days. No EPA, no OSHA, no frivolous law suits, and we got along just fine without them. In those days, some of us thought John Kennedy was a communist in disguise, but by today's standards he would be considered a conservative -- a Republican, or at least a blue-dog Democrat.

I can remember riding my bike along the railroad tracks between Port Costa and Crockett. I loved it when a train pulled by an articulated mallet steam engine would chug past me. I had to cover my ears it was so loud, and the ground would shake as it passed by, but the feeling of power fascinated me. I can still hear them.

Then, I would ride my bike to visit some friends, or ride past that special girl's house I had a crush on. I loved hiking in the hills, pretending to look for Black Bart's hidden loot (he was supposed to have buried it somewhere in the Port Costa hills but no one has found it yet). I miss those days. Maybe that's why I love to write. I don't know if my writing will ever sell, but I love passing my old dreams and reminiscences on to today's generation -- dreams and reminiscences of a simpler, more innocent, time.
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