Black Swan Update

After taking a job for which I slowly realized I was wholly unsuited for, I find myself back in the job market. Things feel a bit different this time around. After the implosion of Brown Industries, a hiring frenzy seemed to take place. Now feels a bit different, more slowly paced. I have interviews lined up, including two in one day, as happened before, but this has taken a couple of weeks to form.

The weekend after leaving the aforementioned job, my family and I went on a long weekend getaway to Bay St. Louis, Mississippi, a charming little town on the Gulf Coast. It was a much-needed stepping away from the anxiety of the last two months and we're thinking of going back for Mardi Gras.

One position I'm interviewing for could, if an offer is made and accepted, prove on a personal level that Nietzsche was right when he said time is a flat circle - more to come in a future post.

Comments

Regarding Keeslyn

In January 2020, a young lady named Keeslyn Roberts disappeared from a fuel station near my home. The case remains unsolved. This post will examine the actions, and lack thereof, of those in authority, and how this contributes to the case remaining unsolved. But first, a little backstory. As a teen, I lived in the same neighborhood as the Roberts family. Keeslyn's father, Eric, is older than I, and I don't recall the two of us having much interaction. His sister, on the other hand, is the same age and we've been friends for over 40 years. It was she who told me about Keeslyn's disappearance and the family's frustrations with the lack of police action. To learn more of the specifics of the case, numerous podcasts and news stories are available online. To my understanding, the police reaction to the disappearance has thus far been little to no reaction. After no word from his daughter for several days, Eric went to the fuel station where her car was parked. He th...

Visiting Alice

Savannah, Georgia is one of my favorite cities. Younger than London, older than San Francisco, with a degree of quirk rivaled only by New Orleans, Savannah is a six hour (if Atlanta traffic is agreeable) drive from my home in the northwestern corner of the state. Comparing my region with that of Savannah is an exercise in futility; they are worlds apart. One is lower Appalachia, with rolling green hills and valleys, creeks and waterfalls. The other is coastal Georgia, low country, wetlands. Even the cultures and accents are sufficiently different as to make a new acquaintance appear surprised when they ask where you're from and you reply "Georgia." Something neither place lacks is ghosts, but you probably knew that, didn't you? View this YouTube video by Dixie After Dark for a bit of info on Georgia's first ghost, Alice Riley. I love writing about Savannah. I can almost see the Spanish moss and smell the pot of low country boil!

The Willowdale Bridge

During my childhood, when I-75 was a divided four lane and Highway 41 was still the main road through town and smaller roads snaked over and between the hills, the Willowdale bridge crossed Mill Creek along one of those side streets. That is, until The Day The Truck Tried To Cross. On that day in the late 70s, a truck driver tried to drive too large a truck over too small a bridge, causing a collapse and putting the truck in the creek below. My dad insisted we go have a look, so into the car and on the way we went. It was quite a sight for my young eyes and the memory still feels fresh. My wife, who lived nearby, remembers the event well, as I suppose all who saw it did. Willowdale is also the site of a train derailment many years ago. Here's the story as told by Norman Blake: The bridge was decommissioned long ago and has fallen into disrepair. A walking trail has replaced the road, but the remains of the bridge still stand.

www.markholder.org

Search This Blog