I automatically reached into my back pocket and snapped open my Buck knife with one hand to cut my steak. The sound of the knife opening echoed through the room and everyone looked at me with my knife in the air. I really felt like a fool. My war was over. All material contained on this web site is copyright protected.
Permission is needed to reproduce, or use any photos, stories, or poetry.
Please contact webmaster Bill McDonald. Copyrights 1999, 2000. 2001 and as noted.