#Family – Share the Outdoors

Special Kids, Special Parents, Special Outdoors

Posted on February 11, 2025February 12, 2025 by Dave Barus

Read the story – Despite their past, foster children raised with kindness, love, the outdoors, family and Christianity become very special children.
Special children are found through adoption and foster care – they grow together through campfires, family smores and the outdoors.
Share fishing, archery, raising chickens and farm animals, target shooting, and hunting develops character, resilience and the growth of special children.

By Larry Whiteley

I remember Vicki and Penny from back in the 1950s. Gene and Estelle, my parents’ friends, brought them home one day. When I first met them, they were young kids. I grew up with them, not realizing until later that I had never seen them as babies.

When I asked my mother about that, she explained that they were not born into their family. They were adopted into their family because their parents could not or would not take care of them. They were special kids.

Later in life, my cousin Nancy and her husband Gary adopted two young boys who were special kids. They were brothers named Shane and Sean. Our kids grew up with them. They spent many happy times together during holidays and family get-togethers.

When our youngest son Kelly and his wife Lexi married, they could not have kids. So, they adopted our grandson Ty from Guatemala. The following year, they adopted his brother Sam and brought him home to be with his brother.

Instead of a tough life growing up on the streets of Guatemala, they grew up on a farm in Wisconsin. They helped take care of the chickens and sheep. One of their favorite things with their dad was target shooting with pellet guns or bows and arrows.

**Our Guatemalan grandsons grew up in our family.**

They have fished, camped, hiked, and played in the water, both at their cabin on a Wisconsin river and when they visited us at our cabin in Missouri. Making smores around a campfire was a popular activity at both places.

Kelly, Lexi and the special Guatemalan boys have also visited many of our National Parks all over America. When Ty graduated high school, he wanted his mom, dad, and brother to go to another National Park together as a graduation gift.

They would have never done the things they have experienced in Guatemala. Ty is now in college, and Sam graduates from high school this year. They are young men now, but they are always in our hearts. I have no doubt they will pass on their love of the outdoors to their kids someday. Our prayer is that our son, who is battling cancer, will be there when the time comes to help teach his grandkids to enjoy the outdoors as he did their dad.

There are more of these special kids in my life. Greg and Jennifer from our church were also unable to have kids, so they went through the foster care system. Ado and Avayonna are brother and sister. When they got them, Ado was three, and Avayonna was two. They adopted them in 2014, and they are now eighteen and sixteen.

**Feinoxx, Adonijah, Ashlynn, Avayonna. Mom and Dad on Christmas morning.**

Ashlynn and Feinoxx came from different families, also through the foster care system when they were both one-year-old. They were adopted in 2013 and are now 14.

A few years ago, they sent me a picture of all of them for Christmas. It hangs on the wall in my home office. It says on it, “There are friends, there is family, and then there are friends that become family.” Sometimes, I look at that picture, and I have to wipe a tear away.

I have watched them grow up into fine young people. They are blessed to have grown up in America. They love the outdoors and have a great mom and dad who do things with them. They are all very special to me and always will be.

Ado plays in the band at one of our church services. He can play several musical instruments and loves cars and old trucks. He even has a car detailing business. Feinoxx posts the stories I write on my blog for me and likes to go deer hunting with his dad. Avayonna is quiet but still gives me hugs. Ashlynn has special needs and is non-verbal. Her eyes shine when she is around someone she loves. Her smile will melt your heart.

I cannot imagine what their lives would have been like without Greg and Jennifer. These special kids will also have kids one day. Grandma and Grandpa will be there for them.

Also, at our church, another family is a special part of my life. Austin and Ashton already had daughters, Emma and Arlie. They decided to try to adopt a boy. Instead of one, they took in four brothers from the foster care program. 11-year-old Aiden is the oldest, followed by nine-year-old Charles, eight-year-old Ryder, and six-year-old Jace. If I were to tell you how these boys had to live before Austin and Ashton brought them home, your heart would break. No kids should ever have to grow up like they were. But kids are going through things in their young lives all over America that they should not have to go through.

What they did for these boys changed the lives of four brothers forever. Because of Austin and Ashton, the boys enjoy and love the outdoors. They fish, hunt squirrels, target shoot, help build campfires, and more. Learning to enjoy the outdoors can change anyone.

They also have chores like feeding chickens, gathering eggs, feeding livestock, helping in the garden, and other things. They are learning life lessons and growing up in a family they know loves them.

**The day Aiden, Charles, Ryder, and Jace were officially part of the family.**

A new grandson named Beau recently joined the family. He will grow up with these special boys. I know all this because they call me Grandpa Larry. I am honored and blessed to have been adopted by them. I even got to help baptize Emma, Arlie, Aiden, and Charles. When Ryder and Chase are ready to make that decision, I will baptize them with their dad’s help.

Many children like these need what these kids have. Adoption and foster care are about stepping into the world of a child and promising you will love them, protect them, defend them, advocate for them, teach them, support them, actively listen to them, and absorb their hurt and pain. You can give them the comfort, safety, and stability they need, which are fundamental to their development and well-being.

The most important thing is to keep your promise no matter what. No matter if medical issues change how the child lives, reacts, responds, behaves, learns, and loves. No matter if they want to find their birth parents and leave you. No matter if they cannot give you emotionally what you give them. Keep your promise to them.

Also, always remember that it is not about you. It is about a child deserving a home they did not have for whatever reason. You need to want to help and be committed to the kids. You will not only bless the lives of these kids, but also yourself. Your reward is when they put their arms around your neck and say thank you or, I love you! As it says in the first part of Mark 9:37 – Whoever welcomes one of these little children in my name welcomes me.

Some of you have read this and would like to help. But you do not think you could ever do what these people have done and are doing. There are other ways you can help. Go online and search for organizations where you can donate money to help with what they do for kids. Or donate a little time to take these special kids outdoors to discover all it offers. That can help change the lives of special kids.

Visit the National Foster Parent Association (national orgnabization for foster, kinship and adoptive parents) at https://nfpaonline.org and the National Council for Adoption (national non-profit adoption association) at https://adoptioncouncil.org to learn more and how to get involved.

From the editor: About the author – Visit https://www.storiesbylarry.com/ and https://www.sharetheoutdoors.com/tag/larry-whiteley/. Larry Whiteley is part of the The Great Ozarks Outdoors, Inc.; 417-830-9023; Philippians 4:13; “My profession is to always find God in nature” – Henry David Thoreau.

Love of my Outdoor World was Drowned in Alcohol

Posted on January 23, 2024 by Bob Holzhei

When do you know when you need help?
When people distance themselves from you, you know something is not right.
It feels good to know yourself when you find help, define a solution and make a resolution.

**Looking for shark teeth on a Florida beach, most people always saw me as a happy-go-lucky sort of guy, but I had a secret.**

By Bob Holzhei

My love affair with the outdoor world began as I grew up on a family farm in the early 1950s. The world was filled with unlimited possibilities.

It was almost 55 years later that everything changed and my life soared out of control due to alcohol. I realized that I needed help and voluntarily signed myself into an alcohol rehabilitation center.

Although I stopped drinking, I discovered that refraining from alcohol was the easy part. I soon found that there was a more complicated and challenging part of staying away from drinking, but I had no control over that part.

I only knew that a couple of “my best friends” would understand my struggle. I confided in them and they were understanding, one friend phoned a few times to see how I was doing. That was very considerate of him.

I felt our children would be understanding and supportive; I was wrong. Prior to my downfall a few weeks earlier, I was working on arrangements to spend winter in a warmer Florida climate. My wife made a phone call one Saturday morning to a close friend in Florida. After the call, it was evident that she was distraught, and she openly shared with me a brief summary of the conversation. “We don’t feel it would be good for you to come to Florida, this year,” she stated.

Alcoholism is a disease and is the most widely understood illness in America. *Shirley Hozlhei photo*

Apparently, from the friend’s previous history with her father as a policeman, she had witnessed other alcoholic friends returning to their old habits without proper remedial longevity in training. I was shocked, although I understood the rationale that followed the dialogue.

I had no problem with the fact that close friends wanted to distance themselves from me, but my main problem at that moment was that the dialogue had upset my wife. If there was a problem with my drinking, the individual(s) involved should have contacted me directly, not my wife; though I realize now that they were just as concerned about me as my wife. My wife had suffered enough from my years of alcoholism.

One in eight individuals in the U.S. is an alcoholic and eight percent or less seek help. *Forrest Fisher photo*

The first people that distanced themselves from my wife and myself were our children and their families. One written letter from one of the four family members stated: “Unfortunately, we need to set boundaries and you are not welcome at our house. For years you have faced demons, you have created chaos and drama around the holidays. You have demons you are facing from your past childhood experiences. This chaos you have created has now impacted each of us, and you continue to steal our joy. We can not allow you to do this any longer.”

A portion of my two-page response began with: “Thank you for your honesty expressed in the letter. My words are also candid and straight-forward.”

The people that we hurt the most include our closest family and friends that we love the most. *Forrest Fisher photo*

Highlights include: “Feeling broken. I suppose its all my fault, however, it is not. No longer welcome at your home, I have no problem with that. Mental state, I feel better than ever since I’ve stopped drinking. I feel mentally healthy and am improving each day.”

I fully realize that I can’t change how others react to my alcoholism. I accept that, however, talking with my wife over the phone and indicating, “It would be best if you didn’t come down to Florida this year,” was unacceptable. On second thought, maybe they cared so much about me that they feared that leaving my 6-week old rehab mentors at the AA (Alcoholics Anonymous) back home would be an even more significant problem for my wife…and even more for me.

According to the www.addictioncenter.com, Alcohol addiction, also known as alcoholism, is marked by a craving for alcohol and the inability to stop drinking—even when it causes extreme personal or social harm. Signs of alcohol addiction include frequently drinking more than intended, wanting to stop drinking but being unable to, developing a tolerance to alcohol, feeling symptoms of withdrawal when stopping, letting personal and professional responsibilities flounder in favor of drinking and spending an extreme amount of time trying to get and drink alcohol. FOR MORE INFORMATION on Alcoholism, please CONTACT YOUR LOCAL AA CHAPTER (https://www.aa.org/).

We never stop learning new lessons in life when we have a dependency on things that go out of control, and new habits are hard to form.

One thing I know for sure, I’m sticking to the recovery program and friends that care more than I know.

The WAR. The WOODS. The FAMILY. The STORY.

Posted on October 30, 2021February 22, 2024 by Larry Whiteley

He could still hear the sounds of bombs exploding, the whir of helicopter blades...

By Larry Whiteley

When he came back from war over 55 years ago, he never wanted to touch another gun. He never wanted to smell gunsmoke in the air. He never wanted to see blood staining the ground again. Family and friends knew he had served in the military but never told anyone his stories. They all knew it was best not to ask. But, they were still there in his heart and mind. It was partly because of how they were treated when they came home, but mostly because he didn’t want to remember.

Sometimes though, he could still hear the sounds of bombs exploding, the whir of helicopter blades. He could still feel the ground rumble as tanks went by, and he would remember. He awoke some nights to the screaming of wounded buddies and lay there in the dark with his eyes open for hours as his wife slept peacefully beside him. He kept it all hidden from those he loved.

They had no idea he also felt really guilty because he got to come home, raise a family and have a good life. So many of his buddies did not get to go home. At times, it even bothered him that he escaped the nightmare of that place with no visible scars and no missing limbs. He was one of the lucky ones, but he didn’t see it that way. He had scars alright, but they were hidden.

No one said anything, but they probably wondered why he didn’t want to watch war movies or any movies or TV shows involving shooting and killing. He would even walk out of the room when the news came on. He didn’t want to see or hear anything about people being shot or killed.

When friends tried to get him to go deer hunting with them, he politely declined with some kind of excuse. One of his grown sons got into hunting with friends. He told his dad how much he enjoyed it and that it was not just about killing a deer. It was about all the special moments out in the woods with his kids or by himself, whether he got a deer or not. The grandkids also encouraged him to join them on a hunt.

He came up with an excuse each time they asked and declined as he had his friends. But, then one day, he saw the disappointment on his grandkid’s face and the pleading eyes of his son when they asked once again. “Okay,” he said, “Teach me what I need to know to hunt these deer.” He couldn’t believe he spoke those words, but then he saw the smiles of joy on his son and grandkids’ faces. He would do this for them.

His son loaned him one of his rifles, and they went out to sight it in. When he was handed the rifle, thoughts of all the times he held an M16 rifle crossed his mind. He took a deep breath before the first time he fired it and again had to wipe away memories going through his head. It got a little easier with each shot.

The morning of the hunt, he put on the camouflage hunting clothes his son had bought him. As his wife slept, he quietly poured a thermos full of coffee and waited for headlights to come up his driveway. He sat there and tried to concentrate on making good memories this day and not think about bad memories that for all these years had crowded his mind.

Lights shined through the window, and he went out the door into the dark. “Are you ready for this,” his son said. “You’re going to love it, papaw,” a grandchild told from the back seat. He took a deep breath, sighed and then smiled. “I will do my best,” he said. His son gave him lots of tips and told him stories of what to expect on the drive to the woods.

They pulled off the dirt road and parked. The grandkids were old enough to hunt on their own, so they wished everyone good luck and went off to their favorite treestands. The son took his dad to an enclosed blind that he felt would be safer than having him try to climb a tree with a gun and sit in a stand when he had never done that. The son didn’t know that dad had done that many times a long time ago in a place far away that he tried hard to forget.

The son wished his dad good luck and went off to his own treestand. As he sat there in the dark, the sun started peeking through the trees. The sky was a beautiful shade of orange. Birds started singing and fluttering around from limb to limb. A fox came walking through and had no idea he was there. Squirrels were digging in the dry leaves. His first thought was it sounded like the enemy advancing on his position. He dismissed that thought and enjoyed watching them.

The field he could see out the windows of the blind could have reminded him of battlefields, but it didn’t. The shots he heard in the distance could have put him on alert for advancing enemy soldiers. Instead, he hoped it was his grandkids, and they were successful.

In this particular moment, in this special place, he silently talked to God. He asked his forgiveness for not thanking him a long time ago for watching over him during the war and bringing him safely back home. He also thanked Him for creating all the beauty of nature that surrounded him that morning. He started thanking Him for his wife and family and was wiping a tear from his eye when he saw something in the field before him.

The buck had his nose down following the scent of a doe that had come through the field during the night. He remembered everything his son had told him. He raised the rifle, looked through the scope and put the deer in the cross-hairs. His heart raced as he clicked off the safety just as it had many years ago. He squeezed the trigger, gun smoke drifted through the air, and the buck dropped where it stood.

What his son hadn’t told him was that he could see Dad’s blind and the field from the treestand he sat in. The buck had walked right under the son’s stand, and he didn’t shoot. He knew Dad had been in the war even though he never talked about it. He knew that Dad needed this moment to hopefully help free him of his nightmares.

There was blood on the field that morning as the son joined his father where the buck lay. They hugged, and the tears flowed. The grandkids joined them and hugged their papaw too. They also knew their papaw had been through a war, but dad had told them not to ask him about it. They all dropped to their knees, put their hands on the buck and bowed their heads to honor it for giving its life to help a troubled man heal.

The war was over.

The Last Cast

Posted on July 10, 2020February 23, 2024 by Larry Whiteley

Time for One Last Cast

Sunrise, Sunset, Starshine…life-long breathtaking moments
Family, Fishing, Memories, Doctors…and Reality
Radiation, Chemo…Time to Re-Rig

By Larry Whiteley

He was alone on the lake. The sunrise was breathtaking. He had seen lots of mornings but none this beautiful. His first cast landed near some bushes. He felt the thump and set the hook. The largemouth came out of the water, trying to shake the bait. It fought hard but soon tired. He gently lifted it from the water, smiled, and released it.

There would be many more fish to visit with that morning. One was the biggest smallmouth he had ever caught in all his years of fishing. The sunlight glistened off its bronze body. He managed to take a selfie of him and the fish. As he hit send on his smartphone, he smiled. A son texted back, “Nice one, Dad.” Another son replied, “Good fish, old man!” A grandson asked, “What did you catch it on?” His wife texted, “Are you doing okay, and how are you feeling?” He smiled and texted back each of them with only the words “I love you” and then went back to fishing.

It suddenly occurred to him that he had not heard or seen another boat all morning. Kind of felt like he was fishing on his own private lake. He heard crows, ducks, and geese. He saw deer and turkey at the water’s edge. Birds were flittering around everywhere and singing their songs. A hummingbird even came buzzing by thinking he was a big flower. He said to himself, “Is this what heaven will be like for a fisherman like me?” He smiled again.

**Sometimes even the blind squirrel finds the nut.**

The afternoon sun was high and hot. He motored into a shaded cove and shut off the engine. The slight breeze felt good there in the shade. He tied the boat to a tree, sat back, and relaxed. Thoughts of the first fish he ever caught went through his mind. He saw the bobber, the worm, his cane pole. He felt the little perch squirming in his hand. The particular feeling, he had that day alone on that creek, was unlike any other. He was hooked. It was the first of many fish he would catch in his lifetime.

As he stretched out in the boat, he looked up at the sky and saw a cross formed by clouds and a jet stream. He grinned and said, thank you. More memories flooded his mind. He wished his Dad would have taken him fishing, but he didn’t. He thought of times he took his son’s fishing, recalling the look on their faces when they caught their first fish. He wished he hadn’t been so busy trying to make a living and would have taken his boys fishing more. But, they both grew up to be fishermen. They both became good husbands, fathers, and Godly men. Their kids became fishermen too. They had a dad that took them and a papaw too. There was no doubt in his mind that his grandkids would also take their kids fishing. He smiled once more and was proud. He hoped that more people would discover the magic of fishing and pass it on.

With the gentle rocking of the boat, his eyes got heavy. A nap came easy. It was a much-needed rest. The hospital visits and all the medicine had taken its toll. Late afternoon, he awoke to the screeching sounds of an eagle flying in the sky above him. It was out fishing too.

As he lay there watching the eagle, he wished he had more time left. He thought that he would go back to Canada fishing for walleye and pike with his son and grandson. Travel with his other son and grandson’s to the Northwood’s for those good-eating yellow perch. Going back to catch a snook or grouper in Tampa Bay or speckled trout at Gulf Shores would also be on his list. A limit of crappie, some trout fishing, or maybe catfishing would be good too. Grabbing a mess of suckers and frying them up on the river bank would really be fun, one more time. He even thought about going wade fishing in a creek or sitting on a farm pond, on the bank. Alaska salmon and halibut fishing were on his bucket list. So was fishing for redfish. It had never happened, and now there was not enough time.

The sunset was beautiful in the western sky. The bats began their dance with the approaching darkness, it was feeding time. He listened to the owls and the whip-poor-wills as they started their nightly chorus. The smell of new-mown hay and someone’s campfire drifted through the air. He knew he should be heading home. His wife would be worried. In the gathering dusk, he wanted to fish just a little longer.

The doctor had told him the radiation and chemo was not working. This was his last time to fish. He was at peace with that because he knew where he was going. He had messed up his life at times. He had made mistakes. He had gotten his life straightened out and was walking the path he should have been all along. He wished he had more time to tell his wife and family he loved them and make more memories. He wished he had more time to say to others that no matter what they did wrong, they could still go where he was going.

The boat roared to life, and he headed for his favorite fishing spot near the ramp to make another cast or maybe two. In the half-light, he cast toward the bank. The topwater bait gurgled across the surface. A massive bass slammed it, and the fight was on. When the battle was finally over, and he lifted it out of the water, it was bigger than the one earlier in the day. He removed the bait from its cavernous mouth, lowered it back into the water, and in the dim light, watched it swim away. He looked up into the night sky filled with millions of stars and, with a tear in his eye and a smile on his face, said, “thank you!”

“Just one more cast,” he told himself. The lure hits the water. A fish engulfs it. The battle begins and then suddenly stops. He’s snagged. The line snaps. “That’s okay,” he says to himself and smiles again. Too dark now to re-rig. It’s time to go home. He looked up at the night sky, and it looked as if heaven was opening. It was his last cast.