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July 1, 2007

Steven Talks About the Worldwalk

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Read what schools say about author Steven Newman

March 3, 2005

What If You Had But One Week Left To Live

Today was the sad culmination of a very tough week for the greater Newman family. Beneath a chilly blue Ohio sky my youngest brother, Elliot, was laid to rest. He had died this past Friday, in the local hospital, of kidney disease and a blood clot. He was only 43.

As would be expected in such a close and large family as that in which I was raised, there were many pained hearts. But surely none burned as sharply as that of our 77-year-old mother, Mary. Indeed, as her deep sobs stabbed at my own heart, I knew there mustn't be anything so wrenching to one's soul as the loss of one's child. True to her Irish heritage, she tried to be brave, tried not to show much weakness. But her diminutive figure needed the support of our arms more than once. The heaviness of a lifetime spent dealing with death--as a nurse, a wife, and a mother--has put a stoop into her shoulders, but she shall be fine. Her faith is unshakable, and her grit inspiring to all who know her. Indeed, I believe the greatest sadness the family shall ever know will be the day it is she who is laid to rest. She is the very foundation of the Newman clan, and it is almost too much to think that someday she will no longer be here to guide us....

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January 6, 2005

How Not To Build A Pond

Jan. 6, 2004

You would not believe the disaster that was--until just a few days ago--our quaint little pond. Some slightly insane bulldozer operator thought he could shove around Mother Nature and easily rebuild the pond at this time of the year. Boy oh boy was he wrong. The ol' lady quickly put him and his monster machines in their place! And as a result he has had to spend the last two days trying to salvage, with the help of other earth-moving peers and machines from the area, some half million dollars' worth of dozers from the depths of what looks like an atomic bomb crater.

I thought maybe there was three feet of muck on the 50-year-old pond's bottom; He thought more likely five feet.

WRONG!!!!!!!!

Try around 10 feet at the very least. And actually we don't know, because he never has found a solid bottom. It could be deeper--much deeper. And with the underground springs he has uncovered, and all the recent Amazonian rainfall, every inch of the muck hiding the pond's bottom is as gooey and unforgiving as industrial-strenth glue mixed in equal parts with Mafia-grade cement. It took a good fifteen hours for all the mighty rescue machines assembled to budge that damned half-sunken Cat. But budge it they finally did--inch by inch. And now the Pomd from Hell no longer looks as if it is snacking on earthmovers.

Though I could get to but a fraction of the fish stranded by the drained pond, I did manage to net over a dozen nice bass, three giant catfish, and a bunch of hand-sized bluegill before the water drained completely away. To have waded out into the muck to retrieve any other fish would have been suicidal. I would have sunk into total oblivion. As it is, Darci and I have many additional pounds of fish filets to store in the deep freeze. And that's on top of a dozen or more other gallon bags of frozen fish filets still around from my October fishing trips on the Ohio River. Think we'll be "fished out" by spring?

If all goes well--no, make that...better--we may actually have a very deep (20 feet) and very large new pond to admire this coming summer. Yes, the once beautiful yard that has always greeted our visitors will be missing, but at least there will be the promise of endless fishing and mudless swimming.

Anyone need a riding mower?

The Worldwalker