The Evenin' Shadders

“So this is Christmas And what have you done Another year over And a new one just begun And so this is Christmas I hope you have fun The near and the dear one The old and the young...” — John Lennon Driving down the Broadway Extension, being passed by the reindeer-decorated Hummer, it’s pretty obvious that Christmas is close. Very close. The stores are well decorated, and a least one radio station is playing wall-to-wall Christmas carols. BC Clark has dusted off the jingle and we’ve already had snow and ice and winter isn’t even officially here yet. Yeah, call it Christmas in Oklahoma. But, to borrow a line from the late John Lennon, “what have we done?” I wish I knew the answer to that question. All across the state people are making plans, shopping and generally celebrating the Yuletide. Children — from 1 to 92 — are trying their best to behave and the rest of us are finding it difficult to focus at work. Christmas does that. Still, what have we done? For a brief time

(Editor’s note: This is the second of a two-part series detailing the birth and heart surgery of Transcript reporter M. Scott Carter’s son, Zachary.) OKLAHOMA CITY — For a brief moment, we thought Zach might draw a bye for his first surgery. His blood oxygen levels were tracking much higher than normal. Because of this, the doctors wanted to stop the drug and see if those oxygen levels would stay high enough to send him home. If so, Zach might go home early and, even better, bypass the first surgery. The normal blood oxygen level for an infant is 100 percent; for Zach, a high was 87 percent. Two days after he was born, he was taken off the drug and slowly, his blood oxygen numbers fell. Wednesday night, Nov. 14, his oxygen level crashed like a bad ride on the stock market, falling into the low 40s. Surgery was scheduled for Nov. 20. • That Tuesday dawned cold, bright and smelling of fall. Karen — who had been discharged just a couple of days before — made a rare appearance home. She tr

“No I would not give you false hope, on this strange and mournful day But the mother and child reunion is only a motion away…” — Paul Simon, Mother & Child Reunion (Editor’s note: This is the first of a two-part series detailing the birth and heart surgery of Transcript reporter M. Scott Carter’s son, Zachary.) OKLAHOMA CITY — It’s said that the heart — both spiritually and physically — is the essence of our human existence. Spiritually, the heart is the repository of grace; the lockbox of the soul. The direct connection with the Almighty. For ages, humans have been classified by the quality — the worth, if you will — of their heart. “She has a good heart,” people will say of a giving woman. Or, “he’s got the heart of a lion” — high praise for a man of courage and resourcefulness. Our hearts, we are taught, make us who we are. On the physical side, the heart is THE muscle of the body. It pulls in blood needing oxygen, shoves it down to the lungs were the oxygen is infused, then pus

Right now, Roy Smith is pretty busy. As the new principal of Moore’s Southmoore High School, it’s Smith’s responsibility to hire all the school’s teachers, coaches and professional staff, monitor construction and make sure the building has the right equipment needed. A project, that’s worth, say, about $40 or $50 million — that’s taxpayer money, too, so every move he makes is public. And — just to make things interesting — Southmoore has to be open in time for the fall 2008 school year. “It’s an enormous task,” Smith said. “It’s not everyone that gets to be on the ground floor of a new school.” Named principal on Aug. 1, Smith — a 20-year veteran of the Moore district — is one of the administration’s front men for its new multi-million dollar high school. And once Southmoore opens its doors, the responsibility rests fully on his shoulders. “Sure, it’s a big responsibility,” he said. “But there are a lot of positives to be said for that. I will interview every staff person, I will have

A few thousand years ago, some ancient, Irish Celt got the wild idea that the dead wandered around the earth on Oct. 31, the night before the Celtic New Year. Whoever came up with this idea passed it along to his fellow Celts, and pretty soon, the whole tribe decided that New Year’s eve, the boundary between the living world and the world of the dead became sorta blurred. They even coined a name for this little shindig, they called it Samhain — pronounced “sou-wen” — which meant, literally, “summer’s end.” But Samhain, it seems, had its good and bad points. On the plus side, the Druids — the Celtic priests — said they could make better predictions about the future if the dead guys were roaming around. On the bad side, the ghosts of the dead didn’t always behave; they’d scare people, cause trouble and damage crops. Yes, it does sound like Congress. How we got the name Anyway, as part of the celebration, the Druids built big bonfires and sacrificed some crops and several unlucky animals

OKLAHOMA CITY -- Close to 100,000 people -- and media outlets from across the nation -- are expected to converge on Guthrie next month for the apex of the state's Centennial Celebration. Scheduled the week of Nov. 9 through 17, Guthrie's celebration will include a ceremonial special session of the Oklahoma Legislature, a State Senate ceremony, a celebration by the state's African American community, a Native American sunset ceremony and a Statehood Inaugural Ball. A Nov. 16 statehood day reenactment, parade and picnic will highlight the celebration. "We're excited," said Guthrie Mayor Chuck Burtcher. "We're going to put on the dog for the rest of the state." Known as Oklahoma's first state capital, the city of Guthrie lost the capital following a statewide election called by then-Gov. Charles Haskell. Haskell, the state's first elected governor, was in Tulsa the day of the election, where he learned the results shortly after midnight. Has

(Since it's this close to Halloween, thought you all would like an original Halloween poem. My apologies to Edward Gorey!) A is for Annabel, (who died by the lake) B is for Billy, (impailed on a rake) C is for Charles, (the piano did fall) D is for Derick, (they found him in the hall) E is for Edward, (with a knife in his back) F is for Frank, (found a snake in a sack) G is for Gertrude, (she swallowed a toad) H is for Herald, (he stood too long in the road) I is for Icabod, (the rats liked his toes) J is for Jasper, (the beans plugged his nose) K is for Kiki, (her baton caught on fire) L is for Lenoard, (he swallowed barbed wire) M is for Michael, (very alergic to Bees) N is for Nathan, (the sharks ate both knees) O is for Orin, (he was folded and pressed) P is for Perry, (he's quite dead and depressed) Q is for Quanna, (her bones do look grim) R is for Ralphie, (there’s not much left of him) S is for Sasha, (the poison was runny) T is for Terance, (he’s no longer funny) U is

It doesn’t take an act by the Oklahoma State Legislature to know it’s wrong to steal. Nor do we need a gubernatorial proclamation that lying, cheating on your spouse or killing someone are not the best of ideas. Because, long before members of the Oklahoma House and Senate convened in their marble chambers at 23rd and Lincoln there were rules of conduct. The Bible’s 10 commandments were a pretty good start. From there, society was given the “Golden Rule” — based on Matthew 7:12. “So in everything, do to others what you would have them do to you, for this sums up the Law and the Prophets.” That simple idea has been the basis for our modern concept of human rights since the time of Christ. But right now it’s taking it on the chin. Especially here in Oklahoma. With state Representative Randy Terrill’s anti-immigrant bill now law, Oklahoma has set aside its moral principals and, in the process, lost its humanity. Terrill’s recent blast at the Oklahoma Health Care Authority is the perfect e

MOORE — A former official with Moore’s First Baptist Church is suing the church for his termination, and for “spreading false rumors about his mental health throughout the community,” court documents show. Jimmie D. Lady, the church’s associate pastor, filed the suit in Cleveland County District Court last week seeking $10,000 in actual damages and $10,000 in punitive damages for “severe emotional distress and mental anguish as a result of statements made about him when his job was terminated.” Lady’s attorney, Andrew Hicks of Houston, claimed church officials terminated Lady for being bi-polar, then spread rumors about Lady in the community. “Although a man of God, Dr. Lady cannot ignore the dramatic, adverse effects these untrue and unfair accusations have had on him and his family,” Hicks said. “First Baptist Moore’s efforts to tarnish Dr. Lady’s reputation have threatened his family’s livelihood. Through this suit, we hope to restore Dr. Lady’s good name.” Church officials denied

Dear God, Standing against the morning sunlight, she’s beautiful. Her small, shapely body is round and full — inside her womb, our child plays. She tells me how this tiny, divine person pushes and moves and stretches and floats on a life-giving island known only to females. Silhouetted against the 6 a.m. sun I watch her as she rubs her belly, reverently, touching this child she so willingly bears. Heavenly father, she is so frightened. Each night she prays, asking you to help her. She seeks your guidance; your forgiveness. She prays that you will take care of the life growing within her. She prays because you, father, are our only hope. The doctors, though upbeat, tell us this newest member of the human race will need three separate surgeries to ensure its life. The first, to place a shunt inside an artery flowing into its tiny heart. The second, to literally replumb the top portion of the heart; the third, a similar operation on the bottom. That news devestated her. I felt her sob

OKLAHOMA CITY — If you’re going to eat at the fair, you’ll need a stick. Preferably, a clean one. But a stick, just the same. Because at the Oklahoma State Fair food must be portable. Forget the plates, and you probably won’t need that knife either. Sure, you’ll see an occasional fork, and OK, a spoon or two, but fair food is a truly unique creation in the culinary world. And it’s not for the faint of heart. Great fair food must be tasty, incredibly fattening, messy and a dietitian’s nightmare. And, yes, fair food needs a stick — think walking and eating. For some foods this is easily accomplished. And others come with their stick built in. But today, the latest in deep frying technology has brought a vast, and ever-growing collection of foods — previously though unavailable — to the stick. • Just southeast of the Space Needle, now adorned with advertising and slogans from one of Oklahoma’s larger utilities, are the food vendors. They stretch along a corridor about a full city block lo

A couple of weeks ago, I penned a column about how I though the state should change its child custody laws. I spelled out what I thought was wrong with the system and offered some suggestions for fixing it up. And by the message I received, you would have though I suggested canceling the football program a the University of Oklahoma. Yes, the defecation struck the rotary oscillator. I’m sure the computer guys here at the newspaper weren’t too happy with the quantity of e-mail I received because of that column. I published one response — well written and thought out — but many of the others were (even for me) a little too crass for a family newspaper. I was especially fond of the one which questioned the legality of my birth and my mother’s moral standards. Anyway, the column caused a big ruckus. Good. Because I meant everything I wrote. (I can almost hear those keyboards clicking now). So, because I’m so good at causing a fight, I thought I’d revisit the subject this week. Only this ti

MOORE — Less than 10 minutes after it was reported, two Oklahoma City men were arrested on bank robbery complaints Thursday morning by Federal Bureau of Investigation agents and Moore police officers. Oklahoma City FBI officials say Wacey Gerron Mikles, 24, and Eric Justin Moses, 26, were arrested for robbing a Bank of Oklahoma branch inside Crest Foods at 1315 N. Eastern Ave. in Moore. “At approximately 10:44 a.m. Thursday, a white male approached a teller at Bank of Oklahoma and demanded money,” FBI spokesman Gary Johnson said. “(The man) exited the bank and was seen fleeing in a vehicle.” No employees of the bank or the grocery store were harmed. About 10 minutes later both Minkles and Moses were arrested by Moore police, department spokesman Sgt. Todd Strickland said. “Our lieutenant was in the right place at the right time,” Strickland said. “He did an awesome job.” Strickland said Moore police Lt. Tim Bryant was near the intersection of North 27th and Eastern Avenue when he saw a

Chris Milum started out his career a certified public accountant. A 1996 graduate of Moore High School, Milum earned his bachelor’s of business administration in finance and accounting from Southern Methodist University. He went on to get his master’s degree in accounting, too. And after that, he became a certified public accountant. Life was OK for about three years. But at the time when most number jockeys would settle down, find a wife, and have 2.3 children, Chris Milum turned in his calculator. “I guess I needed more adventure,” he said. His decision came after an impromptu bull session with some friends. “A bunch of us were sitting around talking about what we would do if we weren’t CPAs. And the answers were pretty typical.” Except when it came to Chris. “I told them I wanted to brew beer.” Having been a beer fan since he turned 21 — the legal drinking age in Oklahoma — Milum didn’t want to just brew any beer; he wanted to create hand-crafted, old world style beer. Beer that did

MOORE — This is a story about a family. A big, big blended family, mind you. It’s a story about two divorced adults who struggled, then found each other. It’s a story about six little kids who joined forces to become brothers and sisters. It’s the story about four other little girls who might have been lost, had it not been for the gentle, hardworking plumber and his loving wife. This is a story about Steve and Maylene Sorrels. It’s also a story about Taylor, Cody, Michael, Nicole, Aylee, Gabriella, Breanna, Dalton, Victoria and Jaden. Yes, this is the story of one big family, but mostly, it’s a story about love. nnn The first thing you notice when you arrive at Steve and Maylene Sorrels’ home in Moore is the shoes. They’re everywhere. Small shoes. Tennis shoes. Boots. Overshoes. Snow boots. Casual shoes. More tennis shoes. They’re piled on the porch on a curved black shelf, just to the right of the door. What, at first, looks like the remains of a Wal-Mart sidewalk sale, is actually o

Sixty-six years ago, Paul Goodyear had to run to save his own life. A Petty Officer Third Class assigned to the USS Oklahoma, Goodyear had enlisted in the Signal Corps, believing that, after four months worth of training, he would return to a civilian life. “When the training ended, they wanted me to sign a request for a year’s sea duty,” he said. Shortly thereafter, Goodyear found himself stationed at the Pearl Harbor Naval Base in Hawaii. And on this particular Sunday — Dec. 7, 1941 — the job was easy. At Pearl Harbor, Sundays usually were. Sure, the miliary brass was concerned: In 1937 China and Japan had locked horns and two years later, Hitler had invaded Poland. But so far, the United States had stayed neutral. And even though then-President Franklin Roosevelt had signed the Lend-Lease act in March of 1941, American soldiers had seen little conflict. But the country was on high alert. “We knew before long we were gonna get involved in that deal in Europe,” Goodyear said. “It was

About an hour before midnight, the vast Oklahoma sky is a blanket of dark, inky velvet. Only a handful of stars dot the night. There’s a slight breeze; it’s cool, but enough residual heat remains to remind you that this afternoon the tempreature was in the triple digits. It’s August, so it’s dry and it’s hot. And it’s the type of weather that — sometimes — might bore a guy like Kevin Brown. But Brown, a senior forecaster the National Weather Center, knows that here, in Oklahoma, the weather doesn’t remain boring for very long. “Some people say we try to read God’s mind,” he says with a chuckle. “I get asked that at church a lot.” But Brown’s real mission is much simpler — protect life and property by trying, as he says, to “anticipate what the most likely outcome will be” from the weather data he has available. Arriving for the 11 p.m. to 7 a.m. shift, Brown and a co-worker will spend the next eight hours of this warm, August night surrounded with mountains of computer images and data

I stand on the porch and watch. Outside, my kids run and play in the twilight. The smallest, a sports nut, has organized an impromptu neighborhood football game. Their stadium is the street. Their turf, the asphalt. Clay goes long and catches a well thrown football. Not bad for an 8-year-old. On the driveway, my step-daughter, Sara, hovers with a covey of girls. I hear them giggle and gossip — the conversation is hushed, but if you watch closely, you’ll see her glance quickly at the tanned blond boy on the skateboard (who manages, easily, to stay just within eyesight). In the distance I can hear that damned ice cream truck — it plays the same song over and over and over. I like ice cream, but I really would like to deflate this guy’s tires. Thankfully, he bypasses our street. The rain has gone — for a couple of weeks now — and it’s hot. But my kids don’t care. Around me, I can hear the distant hum of central air units. I say a quite prayer of thanks for the inventor of Freon. In front

MOORE — It’s 5:30 a.m. A Thursday. Outside the first, faint rays of sunlight scatter through the dark, tall trees. Somewhere down the street, a small dog barks. It’s still in this neighborhood — just a stones throw off Fourth Street — most people are asleep. Most, but not all. At home, Daniel Allen is awake. He sits up, rubs his face and “wonders if he’s still on Earth” for several minutes before getting dressed — work-out shorts, a tank top, shoes and his right leg. “Can’t forget my leg,” he says, with a chuckle. “A leg is always a good thing.” Once the wayward limb is reattached, he heads downstairs, grabs an energy drink and leaves. He’s got about 30 minutes to get to the field. Thirty minutes before football practice starts. Thirty minutes and Daniel Allen is ready to play. • Standing about five-foot, six-inches tall and roughly 140 pounds, Daniel is slim, with curly black hair, brown eyes and a never-ending smile. At 17, this high school junior is the typical teenage kid. He’s fa