Thank You, Mr. Rowe...For The Story That Means So Much

 Unfortunately, I was a day late accessing Mr. Rowe's Halloween edition podcast. Yesterday was filled with holiday preparations. Had I not taken the day off work, I would have--most likely--taken the time to fire up Mike Rowe's latest podcast.

It was a shorter-than-normal cast dedicated to the day special to so many.

Halloween.

Of all the things Mr. Rowe could have discussed, shared, he chose something extremely personal to me and my family. He recited Robert Service's classic, The Cremation of Sam McGee. As per his usual, Mr. Rowe explained why he chose that particular story and what it meant to him. He then masterfully (as a trained performer can do...) read the story, complete with effects to add drama to an already wonderful story.

It game me chills.

The chills came not necessarily from Mr. Rowe's reading, though part of it did. It came from a flood of memories that engulfed me as I listened. Hearing that story, those words, transported me to back almost half a century, to some of the most beautiful terrain in the world. I found myself sitting beside a campfire in a mountain valley shadowed by the Teton range. Surrounding me is family--many who are no longer with us--tired from multi-mile hikes but not wanting to miss my uncle recite from memory the same story, the same poem.

Those years after my dad passed away were filled with family. My mother's siblings, their spouses, and children adopted me, my brother, and sister. They became collectively a surrogate for a fallen father. We spent several summer weeks at the family farm between Driggs and Tetonia, Idaho. We would load up food, bedding, repelling gear, and other things necessary for survival in the wilderness and begin walking. After several miles, we'd camp, have dinner, then sit around a fire and listen to Uncle Arlin tell our favorite Robert Service poem.

As a kid, I lived for it. I even memorized the poem and performed it in a high school poetry reading competition. Basically, those words speak to me soul. As the story flowed through my earphones, I tried keeping up, tried reciting the once-memorized story with a smile across my face.

Thank you, Mr. Rowe. As a daily blogger, I many times search for things to share. I wonder if this particular choice of poems required much thought, or if it's just something you love as much as so many of us. Either way, I'm glad you chose it. I'm glad you shared it. I'm glad I live in a world where I could hear your voice and relive some of my greatest days.