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    My Boys from Braxton County: West Virginia State
    My Boys from Braxton County: West Virginia State
    My Boys from Braxton County: West Virginia State
    Ebook121 pages1 hour

    My Boys from Braxton County: West Virginia State

    By Jose Olvera and S.J. Mendoza

    ()

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    About this ebook

    Supernatural? Paranormal? Encounter?

    Who really knows anything about the unknown, except what is told to us, whether it comes from our friends or the news. All you can say is that its up to you to believe what you want to believe.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherWestBow Press
    Release dateJun 18, 2014
    ISBN9781490840239
    My Boys from Braxton County: West Virginia State
    Author

    Jose Olvera

    **au doesnt want to use**

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      Book preview

      My Boys from Braxton County - Jose Olvera

      Copyright © 2014 S. J. Mendoza.

      All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

      WestBow Press books may be ordered through booksellers or by contacting:

      WestBow Press

      A Division of Thomas Nelson & Zondervan

      1663 Liberty Drive

      Bloomington, IN 47403

      www.westbowpress.com

      1 (866) 928-1240

      Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

      Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

      Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

      ISBN: 978-1-4908-4023-9 (e)

      WestBow Press rev. date: 06/17/2014

      I want to give thanks to the following people for their help

      Editor

      Fresno, Ca.

      Jessica Renobato

      Thank you for all your help on this story.

      Illustrator

      Fresno, Ca.

      Jose Olvera

      Thank you for your Art work. I’m truly looking forward in working with you again.

      INTRODUCTION

      I t’s no wonder that many people in their lifetime, travel with curiosity. May it be for business or pleasure? It really does not matter. If you travel to a different Town or State, many call it sight seeing. Perhaps one day you could be walking in the woods, and you happen to see something unbelievable, or strange. Or, at night while driving to a friend’s house, and something crosses the road. Leaving your mouth hanging in disbelief what you just seen, and nobody was with you at the time to say, I saw it too. You tell yourself, Should I tell what I saw, or keep it to myself? Trust me, you are not alone. There are many people out there that yet to tell their story on what they too had seen that was unbelievable. This world has so much mystery to offer. Plus, don’t forget about the lakes, rivers, ocean, and so on, they too hold mysteries in it’s self. I myself love to listen to people’s stories with curiosity. However, it is my choice to believe them or not. I prefer to believe them, since I was not there to see it for my self.

      T he year was 1955. We live close to the mountains on a two-acre land in the State of West Virginia. Boy…, growing up with my little runt brother Luke was fun. Luke and I sure liked playing pranks on our friends, especially our dad, but never, never, our mother. Luke and I got the biggest kick out of our dad, when he would cuss. He is not like other parents using bad language. No…, not our dad, our dad liked to make up his own little cuss words. Let me give you an exa mple.

      One morning, while mom was in the kitchen preparing breakfast, Luke and I ran into our parent’s bedroom, yelling to our dad like crazy little chickens. Telling him that his pick-up truck was stolen from the barn.

      Dad got out of bed and ran outside barefooted, and in his white boxers. Yelling out loud, Those dirty sons of a chicken feeder have better not stolen my pick-up truck. When dad found out that we lied, boy…, Luke and I got a good licking for that prank. And, for more punishment, our dad made sure for one straight week, before sunrise. We had to scrub all the pigs before we went to school. The kids at school could smell the stink of the pigs on us. That first whole day I told my friends, Oh, Luke and I had fun chasing pigs. My friend Casey always use to tell me, Telling a little white lie won’t hurt no one. Another prank we pulled on our dad was on a Sunday. I remember getting up real early. Luke asked me, Where was I going? I told him, Hush little brother, and stay in bed. I quietly snuck outside to get the Sunday newspaper.

      Once I got back in the bedroom, I talked Luke into helping me play a prank on dad. Luke and I cut out all the pictures from the newspaper. Then I rolled the newspaper back up nice and neat. I then snuck back outside and placed it in the front yard. I quickly returned to our bedroom trying not to make too much noise. Lying down on my bed, I talked with my brother for a bit. Soon we heard our dad walking down the hallway. We listened in silence as we heard the front door open. A minute had passed when we heard our dad yell out loud,

      Honey, get them two fish face frogs up right now. So they can go to the store and buy me a newspaper.

      Hearing our dad yelling like a crazy wild man. Luke and I used our hands to cover our mouth, so that dad could not hear us laughing.

      Then Luke said in a low tone,

      There’s another prank for our book.

      Then we heard our mother’s footsteps coming toward our door. Luke and I pretended to be asleep. The door opened, we could hear our mom’s voice saying,

      You two better get up and get dressed, you know why.

      Luke rubbed his eyes as if he just woke up saying,

      What’s going on mom?

      Mom just stood at the doorway,

      Come on you two, you heard your father, get up and get dressed.

      Mom was never harsh with us when we played pranks on our dad.

      She knew that we would never hurt our dad with our pranks. On the way to the store to buy a newspaper, we laughed so hard our bellies hurt.

      Luke said,

      I cannot wait for the next prank we’re going to pull on him.

      I looked at Luke with a smile and said,

      Trust me little runt, there will be many, many more pranks to play.

      In our teenage years, Luke and I sure did a lot of camping, and hiking in the woods. You can say Luke and I were crazy when it came to challenging the wild hogs in the mountains. I remember one summer, Luke and I went camping for a couple of days. We just finished setting our four-man tent, when we decided to go fishing in a nearby creek. Fishing, and talking for a while, we heard strange noises from afar. We paid no mind to the strange noises, and just kept fishing. Then we heard the grunting noise coming closer, and closer to us. Luke and I spotted a big wild hog from a distance. It surprised us, this hog must have weighed about three hundred pounds or more. As we watched the hog in silence, I felt the wind blowing East. I knew that the hog could not smell our presence. As we watched the hog look for food. Before I knew it, my little brother decided to throw some big pinecones at that hog. Thinking that the hog would leave the area. Instead, it turned around, took one look at us, and started to charge at us with all its might. Luke and I knew the area, so we dropped our fishing poles and ran towards this big old oak tree. We climbed the tree like a pair of monkeys. Once we were safe on top, we laid flat on our bellies on these large branches. Holding on tight, Luke and I yelled out,

      You old ugly hog can’t touch us, you ugly looking smelly thing.

      That hog looked up at us, just wished it could climb that tree. It kept grunting louder and louder, as if it was talking to us. We grab some dried branches and twigs, throwing them at that ugly hog. Just seeing that hog huffing and puffing, going around in circles and hitting the tree trunk with its strong back legs. It made us laugh out loud. and the more we laughed, the angrier that hog got. We stayed up in that old tree for over an hour before the hog figured it wasn’t going to get us, so it might as well leave. Boy, those were the good old hog days.

      In our early thirties, Luke lived in New York City. He became a lawyer working in this big fancy

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