My family moved to forty acres on a dead end road in Christian Country when I was eight years old. My family was relocating to recover from the death of one of the year-old twins. Like all kids of that era my brother Donny (who was fourteen months younger than I) and I had chores to do and we were expected to do them correctly and on time. Then we were free to pursue our favorite pastime-horses. And Donny found so much more time to "invent." He believed he could improve any method of anything he came across, and set out to prove it. For five years our family had an ideal life until Mom got cancer. My parents instilled in their children a work ethic that has served me well: that truth and integrity is the foundation of life. My parents farmed and Dad worked in the coal mine and broke horses to work. Mom trained them to ride, I spent many wonderful hours with my little brothers watching Mom work horses to accept the saddle and ride. For many years it was difficult to write of our time on Christian Forty and the death of my mother, but with the death of our only child it seems the time is right. While we had some valley low times we also had many mountain highs. My mother had a saying: "If it were not for the valley lows the mountain highs would not be as enjoyable." We were taught that a handshake and your word amounted to the same as a written contract. Of course our lives changed after the death of our mother. She asked Dad not to separate her children. Our life became difficult but Dad held true to his word and kept our family together. My parents regarded success not in how much you acquired but what you did with it.