Scrapbook One Hundred Fifty Two…



I received this story from an old friend. We flew the happy fighter skies together in the 1960s when he was a major and I was a 1/Lt. His call sign was Black Bart and I was Comanche. He is a man of fiber and substance who retired with three stars on his collar. He didn’t write the story, but his comment to me was about living when times were simpler and the rewards were greater. He taught me that imagination could nearly always be used to narrow the gap. f


When I was a young boy, my father had one of the first telephones in our neighborhood. I remember the polished, old case fastened to the wall. The shiny receiver hung on the side of the box.. I was too little to reach the telephone, but used to listen with fascination when my mother talked to it.

Then I discovered that somewhere inside the wonderful device lived an amazing person. Her name was “Information Please” and there was nothing she did not know. Information Please could supply anyone’s number and the correct time.
My personal experience with the genie-in-a-bottle came one day while my mother was visiting a neighbor. Amusing myself at the tool bench in the basement, I whacked my finger with a hammer, the pain was terrible, but there seemed no point in crying because there was no one home to give sympathy. I walked around the house sucking my throbbing finger, finally arriving at the stairway. The telephone! Quickly, I ran for the footstool in the parlor and dragged it to the landing. Climbing up, I unhooked the receiver in the parlor and held it to my ear.

“Information, please,” I said into the mouthpiece just above my head.

A click or two and a small clear voice spoke into my ear.


“I hurt my finger…” I wailed into the phone, the tears came readily enough now that I had an audience..

“Isn’t your mother home?” came the question.

“Nobody’s home but me,” I blubbered.

“Are you bleeding?” the voice asked.

“No, “I replied. “I hit my finger with the hammer and it hurts.”

“Can you open the icebox?” she asked.

I said I could.

“Then chip off a little bit of ice and hold it to your finger,” said the voice..

After that, I called “Information Please” for everything. I asked her for help with my geography, and she told me where Philadelphia was. She helped me with my math.

She told me my pet chipmunk that I had caught in the park just the day before, would eat fruit and nuts.

Then, there was the time Petey, our pet canary, died. I called, “Information Please,” and told her the sad story. She listened, and then said things grown-ups say to soothe a child. But I was not consoled. I asked her, “Why is it that birds should sing so beautifully and bring joy to all families, only to end up as a heap of feathers on the bottom of a cage?”

She must have sensed my deep concern, for she said quietly, “Wayne, always remember that there are other worlds to sing in.”

Somehow I felt better.

Another day I was on the telephone, “Information Please.”

“Information,” said in the now familiar voice.

“How do I spell fix?” I asked.

All this took place in a small town in the Pacific Northwest. When I was nine years old, we moved across the country to Boston. I missed my friend very much.

“Information Please” belonged in that old wooden box back home and I somehow never thought of trying the shiny new phone that sat on the table in the hall. As I grew into my teens, the memories of those childhood conversations never really left me.

Often, in moments of doubt and perplexity I would recall the serene sense of security I had then. I appreciated now how patient, understanding, and kind she was to have spent her time on a little boy.

A few years later, on my way west to college, my plane put down in Seattle. I had about a half-hour or so between planes. I spent 15 minutes or so on the phone with my sister, who lived there now. Then without thinking what I was doing, I dialed my hometown operator and said, “Information Please.”

Miraculously, I heard the small, clear voice I knew so well.


I hadn’t planned this, but I heard myself saying,

“Could you please tell me how to spell fix?”

There was a long pause. Then came the soft spoken answer, “I guess your finger must have healed by now.”

I laughed, “So it’s really you,” I said. “I wonder if you have any idea how much you meant to me during that time?”

“I wonder,” she said, “if you know how much your calls meant to me. I never had any children and I used to look forward to your calls.”

I told her how often I had thought of her over the years and I asked if I could call her again when I came back to visit my sister.

“Please do,” she said. “Just ask for Sally.”

Three months later I was back in Seattle.

A different voice answered, “Information.”

I asked for Sally.

“Are you a friend?” she said.

“Yes, a very old friend,” I answered.

“I’m sorry to have to tell you this,” She said. “Sally had been working part time the last few years because she was sick. She died five weeks ago.”

Before I could hang up, she said, “Wait a minute, did you say your name was Wayne ?” ”

“Yes.” I answered.

“Well, Sally left a message for you. She wrote it down in case you called. Let me read it to you.”

The note said, “Tell him there are other worlds to sing in. He’ll know what I mean.”

I thanked her and hung up. I knew what Sally meant.


Life should be an illustrated search for hidden treasures, and not just a guided tour. f


214 thoughts on “Scrapbook One Hundred Fifty Two…

    • It’s a great story. I often wonder if he presents these stories because of keywords he wants to share as hints. Words here that stand out to me are icebox and Sally. With my current focus on Yellowstone, perhaps the following are interesting?

      Icebox –> Ice Box Canyon

      Sally –> F is fond of using 100 years, a century, where a century is also Roman military unit. Hinting with military terms suggest, to me, to have a closer look at Fort Yellowstone (Mammoth Hot Springs). Sally is also a military term.

  1. Thanks Forrest, nostalgic story, I can still remember my first number and making my first call to my best friend, my mom taught me good phone manners and the phone became a powerful tool for sales and marketing in my later life….now I’m not even using a land land and we have spell check and Siri for information on just about anything, she even knows who you are!

  2. Life is full of treasures if we only let them mature. Many years passed in my nearly 51 and not until 10 or so years ago did I stop and take time to investigate that familiar sound I heard for so long to be that of a morning dove. Some of those as simple as the sound of a covey of quail or single grouse flush can bring some of the most pleasant memories back to life.
    The cucumber smell of a copperhead in the woods can bring back memories of an early spring morel mushroom hunt with my dad and remind me that more time needs to spent doing those things before time takes those chances to experience them away.

    • Kelly, I didn’t know Copperhead smell like cucumbers. Thank you for the tip. My bird I heard from childhood was a wipperwill.

      • I had always thought it to be a tale, until my own experience and a close call with my dad and a copperhead. Our sense’s are a powerful thing, if we let them guide us.
        So thankful for dads walking stick that morning, it gave an early warning he was to close. Dad and I made it out fine, the copperhead and an onion bad full of mushrooms didn’t.
        Although our senses are powerful, you can’t always walk with the wind in your face.

  3. One of my all time favorite inspirational stories. I knew I had heard or read it before.

    Written by: Paul Villard

    Originally published June, 1966 Readers Digest.

    My father used to get Readers Digest when I was a child. I wonder if it was that long ago that I had read it, or if someone had sent it to me as an email more recently as well, not sure….

    I really loved reading that old magazine, and I have fond childhood memories of watching my father laugh out loud while reading the jokes it had. I think his favorite was the military jokes.

    Here’s one for you:

    “Coffee tastes better if the latrines are dug downstream from an encampment.”

    Fred Y.

    • Fred Y. – thank you.

      There was always a Readers Digest in my home growing up and I believe my mother had a subscription for most of her life.

      There were always magazines in my home…shared between friends, neighbors and family. Magazines played a large part of the “Media” for me in the 1950’s and 1960’s especially. My college roommate got her weekly Time and Fortune Magazines. Of course, there was also Sports Illustrated, Life, Saturday Evening Post, and I still enjoy looking through old copies. Memories abound with the advertisements!

      I had to also read some longer versions of this wonderful story by Paul Villard. Maybe I have to take a guided tour of the Orinoco River that the author also asks the operator about and he calls it the “‘romantic river that I was going to explore some day”.

    • It’s nice when someone takes the time to be a true friend Forrest. The story reminds me of that old song “Reach out and touch somebody’ hand. Make this a better place if you can.”

      True story, the Fix brothers lived down the street from my AZ family. They were mechanical geniuses with a garage full of half built motors, small engines, etc. (probably like Forrest & Skippy). Just teenage boys who could fix anything. No one recalls their first names…we simply called them the Fix brothers.

      I can hear Forrest’s dad asking, Who would you rather have fix your car? A guy who’s repaired cars for 4 years, or a guy read about it for 4 years? (Paraphrase)

  4. ” In formation please.”
    In consecutive order. In a straight line. Fix it,whoever you are. πŸ™‚
    Love the scrapbook Forrest. πŸ™‚ God bless.

  5. Forrest I know we all go to sing in another world, but I’m not ready for you to go yet. I’ve been listening to you and learning from you for 4 years now, but it doesn’t seem like that long. Thank you for that and for listening to us.

    • Yes, what a lovely story! It made me smile and think of my granmother was an operator in the Pacific Northwest…. It is a beautiful day here and I am going to go play in my other world the garden πŸ™‚ Thanks for sharing Forrest!

  6. What a beautiful story. Just what I needed to rinse the sleep from my eyes.
    Thank you Forrest for the trip back to simpler times.

  7. Clues from Philly…

    He mentions Philadelphia in the post…

    The mans name is Wayne…like Wayne PA where Valley Forge Military Academy is where the author of the catcher in the rye based the school in the book off of…

      • Jeremy I totally agree. The ripples we create through our actions during our time here long outlive us in way that has very real permanency.

      • I agree also, Jeremy. We are all spiritually linked to one another AND we are all spiritually tied to THIS world. That should give us all a Great Reason to treat each other with love and kindness and to treat Our World with respect.

        I believe it is possible to sing in other worlds…but this is where we learn the tune and The Words.

  8. f – – this story cut thru all the scar tissue and touched me to the core. I have 3 cherished birds singing in another world. I often wonder if they can get along.
    Thank you. am.

  9. Dal, Thank you for sharing this. I love it! It reminds me of my first phone, a red rotary dial with a cord. It never gave me much information though. I found that on the www, which led me to my special place, the one from my dreams. I look forward to visiting there again one day. Thanks to Forrest Fenn, his poem, and the www, or it would still be just a dream πŸ™‚

  10. Wow, reading this brought tears to my eyes and made my heart smile…thanks for sharing this sweet story with us, Forrest, and thank you, Dal, for posting it.

  11. That was the best story I’ve heard in a long time! It’s hard to text this through the tears. Very moving story. Thank you for sharing.

  12. Good morning Forrest, thank you for spinning your Rolodex of memories, and sharing your friend’s touching story. I enjoyed it very much.

  13. Great story Mr. F. I remember having a party line at my Granny’s house when I was real little and we used to pick up and listen in to All of my Aunt’s talking and gossiping on the phone. That was so sweet in the story about Sally making time for Wayne and then leaving him that quaint note for real life!!! You, through all of your many friends, adventures, and travels; have lived a charmed, blessed and full life. God bless you Forrest you are greatly admired!!! Stay well! Keep all of the beautiful stories coming!!!

    Ms. Girl

  14. Thank you Forrest – just what I needed – I will read it to my wife when she wakes.
    Thank you again for the Milagros.
    Clayton and Sherry

  15. A beautiful and heart-wrenching story. The kind that brings a moment of perspective, clarity, and a greater understanding and appreciation of and for life — if you’ll only allow it. Thank you, Wayne and Forrest, for inspiring another of those moments.

  16. Very nice story, as others have mentioned it reminds me of our old party line when I was very young. Listening for how many rings from the phone and knowing who it was for by the number of rings, ours was 3 rings. Thanks.

  17. Those special moments we remember as children, will live forever in our hearts.

    One never knows when a moment or two shared with a child will impact his/her life for years to come. Take the time to listen to a child, and you shall awaken the “Inner child” in you as well.

    Thanks Dal, Forrest and Wayne…and especially Sally.

    Good luck to all and STAY SAFE


  18. Interesting story Forrest! I like it. The childhood memories should always be important in who we are… Very good point guess, that’s why I like to be a big kid and play on the play grounds and hide and seek (I’m 30)… I mean, who wants to grow up??? Responsibilities are overrated….

  19. Thank you Forrest for this wonderful story, it is much better than the bee sting and baby goat story I sent you. I hope to be abel to come to Feenboree and get the rest of my books signed. Stay well and enjoy this Spring weather, It is so nice outside here in Arkansas, everything is turning green and getting buds.

    • Mr.Fenn this is a confirmation to me that I’m in the right spot I see all the illustrations from the book on the walls of your canyon including the running man blaze I will soon have the chest and your bracelet back to you of coarse this is all my opinion .I was born in comanche with comanche blood “yuatehe”

        • Don’t worry DG. De Nile is not in a state, it’s in a country all its own…ha ha . Good luck Choctaw and stay warm and safe.

        • Was Colorado but last 3 have been in new mexico and i hate to be bold and don’t want to hurt anyone s feelings but im at the right spot you are more than welcome to hike with me dg if you want it will be there

          • Well thanks for the invite old Choctaw sounds like you got your blaze winking at you too πŸ™‚ it’s gonna be a exciting spring that’s for sure every one seems to have a Blaze Blazed out πŸ™‚ melt snow melt πŸ™‚ my boots are feeling antsy

          • Your sweet thanks πŸ™‚ I got enough money for one more trip then I’m
            Throwing in the towel good luck old Choctaw

      • @Ramona – it raises the probabilities (even higher for me) that most of his scrapbook posts are likely to have embedded hints.

      • Good catch, Ramona.

        I do know as fact, not “imo”, that ff forwards on many internet clips sent to him by others. In my opinion, all of them are not necessarily vetted for accuracy – “never let the truth get in the way of a good story,” or as long as the desired point can be made.

        Perhaps this is one such clip, and for whatever reason, the name was changed not by ff but by someone “upstream”? If that’s the case, the name change makes no difference. If it’s not the case, well….hmmmm.

        Got any thoughts, DG?

        • Well this is my thought I shouldn’t have drank a margeritta and then try to make since of this I thought it said Forrest wrote this story then I thought it said his friend wrote the story wonder what it’s gonna say after 3 margeritta s πŸ™‚

          • DG – you and I share the same preference(s) for cocktail hour, but I’m guessing you’re an hour ahead of me. Be careful out there – after 3 of my Margs, all logical/rational thought halts.
            Cheers to all & be safe!

          • DG-
            I don’t expect to run into you out in MT this spring because I have noticed that you are looking in the wrong place.

          • Well Dal, I guess that means it’s you and me commiserating over Margs on the the north shore of Hebgen.

            Boo hoo.

          • Ohhhhhh dal I didn’t say what I was going to New Mexico for Hahahahhahaha πŸ™‚

      • Wayne is a city near Philadelphia…on the main line, where the “old money” used to have estates(hints of riches new and old might mean new and old money)..named after General Anthony “madman” Wayne…Where the school in the catcher in the rye is based off of (author went to Valley Forge Military Academy)…

  20. Thanks for sharing Forrest! Very touching story. Another fine example of how much we can impact each other with just a little time and effort.

  21. I can’t remember the exact quote but to paraphrase “Have you ever had a memory well up in your eyes and run down your cheeks?” Thanks for the lovely story!

  22. “Life should be an illustrated search for hidden treasure,s not just a guided tour.”
    This just tells me that he wants pictures of where you,ve been. Not a guided tour of goggle earth. πŸ™‚

  23. OK, I’m getting a bit misty here….or maybe it’s the pollen.

    (those of you soon headed for the southern ranges of juniper country have been warned!)

  24. Thank you Forrest for sharing this. After reading it I sat back and closed my eyes and envisioned that little boy dragging the stool to the phone and climbing up on it. With my mind’s ear I could hear him sobbing as he spoke to information.

    One could almost see that little boy fumbling with a pencil and paper to write down how to spell fix. Imagination is a wonderful when awakened.

    Many thanks

  25. Thank you Forrest for this wonderful story. Like everyone else, it seems I got something in my eyes at the end. Hope you and your family are all well.


  26. It seems this story is all over the internet. I would never question Forrest, but I wonder what it is we’re supposed to be learning here. I guess maybe we should focus on what is not in the story, the other possibilities like Black Bart, Comanche, three stars, etc. But I agree he want’s pictures and a good story from whomever is on the trail.

  27. Good story………My wife’s older sister sent her a version of this story many years ago. It’s one of my wife’s favorite stories.

    I remember the old phones without any numbers on them. Just pick up the phone and someone would ask what number you wanted. I was very young and never actually used those phones; mainly because I didn’t know anyone that had a “number”.

    I do remember using the old dial phones where you had to dial the operator if you wanted to talk to someone out of your exchange. Remember Junior Samples and BR-549. My exchange was DR; I don’t remember what it stood for.

  28. Life should be an illustrated search for hidden treasures, and not just a guided tour. f

    Was it Gandalf who said all good stories deserve a bit of embellishment? Maybe because the dry telling of facts do not make for good stories.

  29. For those that might care to attempt some creative imaginations
    Read on. For those that do not, please move along there is nothing to see here.

    First step in our exercise is to read the poem. ( not necessary if you know it by heart ) Now starting with the first stanza ” As I have gone alone in there ” Lean back and close your eyes. Now picture a man with a backpack walking along a path toward a gray area. Using the rest of the poem finish painting the mental picture.

    May your mind be the canvas. The words of the poem the brushes with which you paint and let your imagination supply the palette of colors as you paint.

  30. In Neverland, the blink of the light is green. It blinks from across the water and you stare at it from the dock as if it was an enchanted object, such as a red cap, or a ball of string…

  31. Thank you, Very special. I sat here for 15 minutes trying to think of something else to say and all I have are deep emotions wondering who have I missed without knowing. Thank you again, Mr. Fenn.

    • Hello WiseOne. My mother was once an AT&T overseas operator. Many times she would tell my sisters and me about the many calls that would come from Japan. I remember her saying how she was taught to say, “Moshi Moshi” before saying anything else to the Japanese overseas operator. It was custom and proper. She also said she had to pronounce it correctly or else it would mean something else which wasn’t so kind.

      • Hello. I guess because I used to work for ATT, that could be why that slogan came to mind after reading this sad but interesting story.
        I never knew things could be so complicated. One certainly wouldn’t want to “reach out and touch someone” by saying the wrong words, now would they? If if I ever get to Japan (which I highly doubt) and need to make a call, I’ll try to remember this information and make sure to enunciate properly. “Moshi Moshi.”
        Insects, foxes, ghosts, baseball games with no outs… All this just by trying to say “hello”. Very, very strange, to say the least…

  32. nice story ,mr. forrest,its so good to hear from you again,I have missed your stories(scrapbooks).they always spark me up.such a gentleman you are. anywhere we go on this earth ,we can sing to our hearts content,even in the shower.shoot,we can even sing in our mind,we can do anything in our mind,just imagine it taking place.

  33. Something tells me Forrest threw in “Petey” for a good laugh. Hmm, wasn’t that movie filmed in Aspen, riding a Toat-goat, with a box of cash, and rich folks saving Snowy Owls. Wonder if there’s a subtle hint here?

  34. Lovely story! I have never met Forrest but he has definitely had an impact on my life! Kind of like Sally and Wayne.

    We start our outage at the power plant tomorrow. Will be workin 6 – 12 hour days for 8 weeks! I am trying to get Fennboree weekend off for some R&R. Hope to meet you all then.

  35. Thanks for reminding us Mr Fenn that no matter who we are, we have the possibility to knowingly and unknowingly impact other lives at any moment in time. I greatly appreciate this story.

  36. This story reminds me of my mother. She was a 411 operator in the 50s / 60s with Illinois Bell. She is singing in another world now too.


    Windy City

        • Jeremy P., I think the subtle clue here is “information”, if there’s to be any clue at all. Maybe Mr. Fenn wanted to take a break from treasure talk and share this beautiful story. Back then the telephone operators provided information. In todays world the www is our main source to find information. There are many places in the Rockies the www halts, and there are so many places in the Rockies without warm water, or luxuries of any kind πŸ™‚

  37. thank you so much for the story, f. – no matter who wrote it, and why you posted it. I try to be reminded everyday “there are other worlds to sing in.” And my illustrated search continues. xo.

  38. Wayne (wen) interresierts!
    Philadelphia. Isn’t this an old German town? He changed arithmetic to math πŸ™‚ and changed Paul to “Wayne” but everything else remained the same.
    Nicely done Forrest, I hear you loud and clear. πŸ™‚

      • Or an Anagram of ArithmeticPaul is epithalamic (a song or poem celebrating a marriage) rut.

        Perhaps f in writing a poem was stuck in a romantic mode involving his life long marriage. We have discussed many ways to approach this poem, with life, death, with and marriage. I guess this might be taken as an encouragement if one is already seeking this path.

        Another fun way to anagram it results in: Mail Hat Picture . . . hmmm

      • Luca Pacilio wrote Summa(Sumbuddy) de arithmetica which is the first printed work on algebra (upper math) in a vernacular language which also contains the first published description of the double-entry(entendre?) bookkeeping system.

        Well he was considering a problem before its time in 1494. You see Blaise Pascal offered the first explicit reasoning on how to divide the pot of an incomplete game of chance (not chase). Essentially it is known as an “expectation value” which seems similar to a ‘what if’ or a very important possibility.
        If you may find the problem interesting you should look to Wikipedia but right now my eye just caught a new read “The Mind on Fire: A Faith for the Skeptical and Indifferent”
        by **Blaise Pascal, James M. Houston (Editor)

  39. 411 on Black Bart (western outlaw; not the pirate):

    411 on Comanche (Lone survivor of Little Big Horn):

    Documentary on Battle of the Little Big Horn:

    Point of Interest related to ttotc poem architecture:
    Sitting Bull’s famous pre-battle Prayer and smoking of pipe that Forrest owns is June 24.

    • @Melanie, thanks, and I wish I could take credit for being clever, but it’s a phrase my kids used :-)…”ok mom, give me the 411 about my curfew tonight.”

      The golden nuggets here were braiding together facts about Sitting Bull; his prayers to The Great Mysterious on 6/24; smoking his peace pipe of which Forrest is now guardian; brave in sign NA sign language; and perhaps Forrest paid tribute within TTOTC poem. I don’t think this info leads to the treasure since all this history occurred on sacred, restricted, ground below 5000 ft. However, the historical content interests me.

      @Forrest, I realize you encourage us to concentrate on the poem and TTOTC, but I can’t begin to thank you for the history I’ve enjoyed learning on my journey. For those of us who can only hike/search once a year, the nuggets of gold are in the geographical research.

      • Hi Anna – I thought it apropos that you used 411 in this thread about an early phone operator.

        Speaking of early, I still remember my first phone number: Temple7- 9669. Phones were all black Bakelite back then, and HEAVY. The one I had to use to call my mom from the principal’s office (too many playground infractions) smelled like cigars. Isn’t it funny how some memories come with smells – and vice versa?

        • Melanie, those the old phones were heavy, I remember the wall mounted phones with a long cord that stretched about 12 feet into the next room where you tried to get some privacy if a guy called for a date. Now, everyone just texts πŸ™‚

          • Anna, you’re too cute – at least the guys were calling! Ah, those were the days….

            btw, I did appreciate the links you provided, particularly the one about Comanche. What a War Horse he was.

    • Anna…like Melanie, I enjoyed your use of “411”

      Also, thank you for the Black Bart, Comanche and Little Big Horn links.

      When I see numbers like this…I usually think of dates, like this is April 11th and today would be written as 322.

      But, for some reason…”411″ does ring a bell (not telephone) for me.

  40. In the 30’s, 40’s, and 50’s there was a radio show called “Information Please.” The show had a panel of experts and the general public would ask them questions. Maybe Mr. Fenn wants us to ask him questions.

  41. When you don’t know what to say, a simple Hello will do.

    Just got back from a relaxing weekend in Palm Springs. My friend and I hiked around Palm Canyon and Andreas Canyon (Home of the Agua Caliente Band of Cahuilla Indians). My favorites were the California Fan Palms and the running water.

    More info:

  42. What a beautiful illustration of what a word of kindness & caring can mean to a child. It’s the seemingly small moments that make up the treasures of our lives. Thanks for reminding us.

  43. “Life should be an illustrated search for hidden treasures, and not just a guided tour. f”

    Does this mean we should go search for the hidden treasure chest instead of going to Fennboree because that would be like a guided tour?

  44. But in life, it always seems the biggest fish or the best day always happen alone!!! So, the story is just yours and yours alone to tell it how you like. Who’s going to know if you’re embellishing a little or not?? Like the other day I caught 70 plus fish in about 3 and a half hours and more than half were 2 lbs a piece or better and of course I was all alone so no one knows if I’m telling the truth or not… Sounds too good to be true right… Well, It happened and those fish are right where I put them back in the water… They put a beating on my arm and my 6 lb test line… I’m probably going to need a new reel… Guess I’ll need to find that treasure so I can get me a new reel! πŸ™‚

    • Thats funny, reminded me of a tie rack that said ” Early to bed early to rise.
      Fish like hell an make up lies. She knew I was a decent fisherman due to the 5 gallon buckets of bluegill and perch I would bring home. It was her way of reminding me I was not going to get help cleaning the fish, she would fry em up though πŸ™‚ Good times.

  45. My Mom was a telephone operator during WWII, she told stories about listening in on Jimmy Stewart when he was stationed at Moffett Field. She turned 95 years old today.

  46. “..there are other worlds to sing in..” makes me think of Randy Bilyeu for some reason. My thoughts and prayers are with the family. Wish I could help more with the search for Randy — for closure.

  47. In re-reading this post two things stand out to me. The first, I already commented on – Information was 411. Somehow I think that this is important. #2 is the final quote, “β€œLife should be an illustrated search for hidden treasures, and not just a guided tour. f”

    To me “Illustrated” translates to “Illustration” – “Search for hidden treasure” says that an illustration will assist in your search for the hidden treasure.(s).

    The question is which illustration. I think that the next part of the quote tells us which one – “and not just a guided tour.” The illustration on page 99 features two “Guided” Missiles! These two Guided Missiles are pointing at a “Half Domed” rock to the right. The rock is in front of what appears to me to be a waterfall. The “Half Domed” rock also looks very similar to the “Grave Marker” being held by Forrest on page 95.

    “But tarry scant with marvel gaze” = Nevertheless, look in awe at the tarry scant” on page 95 and 99 – the Guided Missiles point the way.

    Just my opinion.

    Good luck to all searchers and TRY to STAY SAFE


    • To my knowledge, those are not guided missiles. They are MK82 500 lb bombs fitted with a “snake eye ” fin system. This fin system slows the bomb down so that the bombs and the plane don’t reach the target at the same time(relative speed displacement). I believe it was one of the most common bombs used in Vietnam.

      • Not to a perfect “T”, but are “S” and “U” close enough? All kidding aside, yes, they fit quite nicely.

        The water fall in the illustration is a bit wider than mine, but that could be perspective. The “Half Domed rock is a PERFECT match! “It all seems to fit”

        I will know in two weeks!

        Good luck to all and TRY to STAY SAFE


    • @JD – coincidentally, all 3 of your references (half dome, waterfall, grave markers) can be found in Seven Falls.

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