We wrote every day.  He wrote, "It has rained seventy two days in a row.  My finger-nail clippers have  rusted inside my pocket."

"Scott got stung by over a hundred bees.  He hit a swarm with a broom.  And no, I don't know why.  And no, it didn't kill him by some miracle."

"My tent is wet, the floor is wet.  I have been taking extra hops so I can see the sun."

"I made the girls Easter dresses.  They are really pretty."

We didn't write about the war.  I didn't know he had been hit until after he came home.

The government decided to do something they had never done before.  If you lasted six months in Vietnam, you could take leave and go to Hawaii.  So the four of us met him.  I just charged it to a credit card and took the three children.  I thought I'd figure out how to pay for it later.  I was afraid that if they didn't go they might not see him again. It was surreal.  Strange.  Seven days, then everybody said goodbye, we came back to Oklahoma and he went back to Nam to get shot at.  So strange.

We climbed the tower over the Hawaii airport to watch his plane take off.  It moved to the end of the runway, turned and started to roll.  And at that very moment a rainbow arched across the runway, and he took off under it.  God speaks in many ways.  Whatever happened to Ken, God was in control.

Genesis 9:12a-13 "And God said, This is the token of the covenant which I make between me and you and every living creature that is with you... I do set my bow in the cloud and it shall be for a token of a covenant between me and the earth."  That particular rainbow was for me.  God was speaking to me.  Things like that don't happen accidentally.  I had a covenant with God and it was personal.