This short story happened on an adventure that my niece, my nephew, my mom, and me went to Kentucky for trip in 2018. We saw Bardstown and Boonesborough fort and saw my aunt and uncle. Enjoy the short story:
This is not a dream filled with diadems and damsels in distress. This is reality, and it’s a brave world we live in; there was one day that showed that. That courageous day in mind was a day in infamy like Pearl Harbor before me, which sparked America’s involvement in World War II. Ah no, this day was not a suicidal attack on Hawaii, but the weather’s suicidal attempt to discourage a few Godly people on their way to some fun. The reality began with a struggle to rise from the grave of a comfortable hotel bed. With the use of a lethal weapon called the feet in the face of a dead soul, the room was resurrected to life again as a 17 year old boy woke up from his long sleep. His grandma and cousin were already awake while his uncle snoozed to the symphony of the television talking about houses. The world was at peace at least for the time being—despite all the violence of epic proportion.
The struggle to shake the cobwebs out of their heads was real in this case. After a small nap, the uncle got up with drowsiness in his eyes, and a heart fill of adventure to start the day. When everyone was dressed and ready to kick start the day at noon, the battle started. First, they must sit through the infamous torture of a dining restaurant that Southern’s like to call Waffle House. The drive was a long, short journey with labyrinths in every passing way—even though they only drove about a thousand feet. With innocence reigning in this family, they went out of the car hoping for a good bite to eat. Like rats in a maze, they scrambled to get to the door to the restaurant, which had triumphant cheese at the end of the maze. But, this was waffle house, and they specialize in delicious waffles—marvel in the glory of the waffle house. So, they lingered in the colorful building to find a place to sit, but only four stools were empty for them to sit on, so it worked perfectly for the situation.
The quest to find the most epic meal awaited these four sojourners of Kentucky’s Waffle House; for what awaited them was hell in its full fury. Lingering long on the meals, they all decided on waffles and hash browns: one person ordered a waffle with pecans and another ordered one with chocolate chips. It’s a royal meal for any nobleman. Observing the obvious action by the cook and wait staff who brave their work as best as they knew how for a decent wage—if you called minimum wage decent. The cook forgot that the family ordered four waffles, and only prepared for three, and it didn’t help matters that the waitresses were shouting orders at him like they had loudspeakers in a rally. So, the 17 year old boy man didn’t get his waffle until last—even though he was the first to get his hash browns. Everyone ate and filled their humble stomachs with ammunition for the battle ahead. The young, old man’s niece chugged down a cup of coffee while the rest of them sipped on water until the boy man got his waffle. With the quest underway, and reward for the belly on the horizon, they ate and were filled and grandma paid with her gracious hand. With fuel for the fight and the money well spent, the family was off on their adventure in paradise.
Now some may call Georgetown, Kentucky paradise, and to some, it is. Family bonding was in the car and in the air with the sun out in its full deceptiveness making them believe that this was going to be a good and beneficial day. They started their journey on the highway on their way to the young, old man’s aunt and uncle’s house. The family was needed to help take care of his aunt—who’s braving an infamous storm on her bed. It’s the aftermath of a bad car accident many months ago that led her to this war with the enemy, and the family was summoned to help her face it with courage. So, they traveled a short, long distance to the house with a maze of back roads with good landmarkers to remember where they been. Upon the arrival at the country house where they will spend several hours braving a storm in progress, the family made the trip in one piece while dwelling with Christ with joy.
They got out of the car awaiting the greeting of their uncle who gave them a most welcoming invite into his home. The grandma, his sister, wanted to see her sister-in-law who was sleeping soundly on her bed. The uncle told the family not to disturb her because she needed to get some rest; for she fought an epic battle. She came home from the hospital the day before, and was escorted by her husband, who tried very carefully to keep her comfortable and to help her along the way. When they arrived home, the family was already at their house, and helped them through grace and courage to put her on a wheelchair and get her into the house as well as into her bed. This was an epic battle for she couldn’t help herself to do the most basic things. The family was glad to come and help, and while she was on bed, we all came in to her and talked with her for hours without end. She seemed to be cheerful and lively throughout the time with her family of relatives. This wasn’t the case this present day, but grandma was persistent, and wanted to know how she was. The young, old man, the boy man, and his cousin went into the greatly decorated living room; they sat on couches waiting for some adventure to await them.
The teens and their uncle were lazily around the living room while their granduncle and grandma were talking and scrambling to help the brave warrior in her struggle, but she was resting so grandma just sat next to her. This was the calm before the storm, and the preparation period before the battle. So, they waited with restless legs ready to run to adventure. They were on their phones playing games or listening to precious music like any normal person in this generation. Don’t know anything about epic wars in ancient times or the battles in American history, but they know everything about smart phones and their use. They will have a lesson in warfare. It was about 1 pm in the afternoon when the silent, loud struggle began—not just at the house, but in the storm in the area of Georgetown and central Kentucky. The tensity of the wait only made the situation that much worse for this humble family; for they knew not what will befall them—especially the brave warrior on her bed.
1pm turned to 2 pm and then turned to 3 pm—nothing eventful happened in the house, and that’s a good thing. With everything safe and secure; for nothing happened that could cause alarm. The crew with their taste for adventure and a determination to face the dangers of the day got themselves ready to head out to Bardstown, Kentucky—where ancient Kentuckian bards resided, and the family wanted to hear about one of those bards. The sun was still high with clouds ready to mask its glory—giving off its last deception. The family gave their good byes to their aunt and uncle, and was on their way to their next adventure. Once in the car, they used a gps to go where no man has gone before: central Kentucky. With the instructions of the navigator, they went down some country roads to get to the highway that led down south from Georgetown. Slowly but surely, the sun gave up its own fight against the clouds, and surrendered her sunshine for a little rain. The roads were not nearly bad, and it was safe to get to the highway through those back roads. Once on the highway, the family saw the clouds surround them in the sky, and rain condescended on them.
After a little while on the road, their phones were alerting them of immediate danger: a tornado watch for the area. But, they were heading south toward Heaven hill distillery hoping for its rich heavenly goodness. The sky grayed, and the alerts on their phones dinged annoyance and discouragement as they were driving; for a tornado warning alarmed the family, but they were not moved by this conflict in waiting. They still went their way: ignoring the warnings of Satan’s fury. The clouds covered the area, but the rain didn’t come down very much. The short, long distance to the distillery went on in a flash, and they got off on the exit that led to the place. When they were on the way to heaven, they saw hell on the way; for a tornado touched down to the right of them so near them, but they ran away from it in hopes to avoid its wrath. And, they did with ease without any wind or rain to make them suffer. They arrived at the glass covered bourbon place just in time for it to help their closing customers: no more tours of the distillery for the day—so sad. That’s ok: Grandma and everyone else enjoyed smelling the bourbon in its barrel, and she bought some fun things to remember the brief visit to heaven.
With the clouds still in the sky and the rain not covering the earth, it’s safe to say that the storm had passed—so they thought. The clouds remained hostile with gray—even though the tornado had passed them by. With renewed courage, the family went on the road again to find some fuel for the fight in an unusual place to eat. The boy man wanted taco bell, which grossed his cousin, but grandma had some other plans of historically epic proportions. So, they curved around a turnpike to find their destination: an old tavern that was started in 1779. This was the place where famous people ate at including Abraham Lincoln. Grandma wanted to take a picture outside the sign of the building, and the family raced to get inside the building to safety—if you call an old, new tavern a safe place to eat. They got in, got their table, and lingered a while at the menus to find out what famous person ate what famous meal—apparently Abraham Lincoln ate steak. They didn’t care that he freed the slaves: they only cared about his eating habits. The family wanted to know if he really ate steak—who cares about those slaves.
The hostess was gracious enough to give them a brief history lesson of the tavern on paper—apparently Jesse James went upstairs to shot at a bird flying around and shot holes in the wall. It still stood today in a glamour of glory. The whole family went upstairs to see it, and it was a glorious occasion to be a part of history. The boy man and his cousin went back to their seats too soon while Grandma and the young, old man staggered a while upstairs. When everyone was back at their comfortable chairs, they ordered their food—which would help them later on. The jokes were echoed around the room as crowds of people went in to sit down: some for their bellies and some to avoid the heavy rain outside. The boy man was hungry and ordered a plain half pound burger with fries, his cousin ordered large Alferdo pasta with chicken, the young, old man ordered the same as his niece, and grandma had a salad—all was good in the hood. A beautiful waitress got their order, and after a short, long time of carefully grafting the meals to their delight, they were enlightened with its rich goodness. The boy man’s uncle ate the entire large bowl of pasta as oil for the fire in progress, and when the waitress came back to find out how everyone was doing, she complimented his accomplishment by saying that no one had ever finished that pasta—which was a boost to his ego: a beautiful woman complimenting him on his natural hunger for life—so rare.
When the brief adventure subsided, the world seemed to be upside down for this loving family: the rain stopped but the clouds were still in battle array. It was time to go, but they all needed to go to the rest room to refresh themselves, and make themselves ready for what’s ahead. While some of them waited, they listened to a soothing sound of a live guitarist playing at the bar nearby: it was a sweet smelling aroma. The guitarist was playing its sweet melody as the family went out the door of the tavern, and took one last picture of the old, young man in front of the building before they left. The clouds declared victory over the sun, but not over the family who went into their car and went for their final destination for the next several hours: a musical. The musical was The Steven Foster Story: the man who wrote “My old Kentucky home”. It was 6 pm after dinner, and they had some time to kill before the play, so they reached the ground where the musical was being held and parked the car with its top down inviting any adversary to rain on them. None came. So, the family waited for at least an hour before going into the building; for the musical didn’t start until 8 pm.
In the meantime, they waited with excitement in their humble hearts. Grandma and her granddaughter were reading a gossip magazine that seemed to be absolutely meaningless to the boys, but it was rich in excitement for the girls: it was a way to pass the time. The young, old man rested his lazy eyes to give him a little boost for the main event. The boy man complained that the rain was coming—even though the wind blew the dew from the trees. He wanted the top of the car to go up in order to be safe, but they braved the mini storm from the trees. Time seemed to pass slowly in this moment of tranquility and peace, but it didn’t stop the joyful anticipation of the coming event for the 16 year old niece who loved musicals and even starred in one. This was pure joy for her, but not for her cousin—who seemed to dread the minutes before the show. The battle was real for him, but she didn’t let that get to her, and faced his attitude with courage and grace. This was real for everyone, and when the roof of the car was finally up, they departed from the car, and went into the outdoor musical theater, but no one was able to be seated yet; therefore they hanged out in the building.
Everything was deceptively beautiful in this place, and there was a damsel in old antebellum dress who greeted everyone, and sold a brochure for a chunk of change. It was well worth the price for the niece. The boy man’s attitude didn’t go away after they cruised from the car; for he dreaded watching the musical based on bad past experience. This battle went on for him, but again, his cousin just ignored it with grace and courage—not letting him ruin the show. Finally, after about a half an hour lodging around the building, they let the innocent spectators get seated for the show, so everyone sat under the rising stars; for the battle-torn sun was beginning to retreat for the night from battle. The clouds retreated as well as though God was saying to His guests: enjoy the show. So, time moved at a snail’s pace until the show started, and it started with an ensemble of many different men and women singers and musicians: paradise for any damsel full of love for music. Even the bad attitude boy man was glued to the spectacle of talent on the outdoor stage which wooed the crowd with singing and dancing and acting with humor and love. It was set in the antebellum period before the civil war, so the young, old man was interested in its history, and that history was alive when it showed slavery in Kentucky.
With all the excitement of the show, there was a brief break to get a light snack, nachos and lemonade, which grandma wanted. The show returned as quickly as the production went on before. There was romance and music and poetry with lyrics. However, Satan’s battle plan was starting to come; for he light the sky with thunder clouds. Flashes of death and destruction filled the sky with darkness all around and clouds covering the stars with fury: a scary scene for any disheartened person. Some of the audience of the play left, and soon, while the musical was just getting interesting, the play ended too soon—not knowing how My Old Kentucky Home got to be a Kentucky hit. The enemy discouraged the musicians and the actors to go on, and made everyone leave the show unfinished and hoping for the conclusion to the whole drama—which would never come to pass that night. The family wanted more, but they left with the discouraged masses with the family’s heart not moved with discouragement from this untimely event of foul weather. Everyone made haste very slowly to go into their cars and leave to their homes, and the family made it to their car safely and without any danger from within and without.
The boy man was excited to sit in the front seat as the master navigator overlord while his grandma took the driver’s seat, and the niece and young, old man were in the back awaiting their fate. This was the beginning of the fated battle between God and Satan, and between His children and the weather from hell. Although the rain didn’t come on them as of yet, it was thundering and flashing lightning like buffalo rampaging across the sky—which caused alerts to go off on everyone’s phones: Flash flood warning. It was in the beginning of the night when everyone quested for their hotel, but this was no ordinary test of courage: fear had to be conquered at all cost. Grandma wisely decided to fill her car with gas before sneaking off to the hotel. The rain didn’t fall on the unexpected warriors until they were on the highway combating their way back to safety. The niece was filled with fear; for she was afraid of thunder and lightning: she put her knees up to her chest with her arms around them. She began to cry and shake with torment; the young, old man comforted her by holding her hand or putting his arm around her to keep her safe—even though she was shaking uncontrollably as the rain became so heavy that grandma could not see very far ahead. Grandma prayed to God, and so did the young, old man. They prayed for protection, and he prayed that Satan would be rebuked.
Because the rain was so heavy, they drove off an exit to a side road to get into higher ground, but the route proved to be more dangerous than the highway due to its hilly roads and obsessive rain. The young, old man thought that the best solution was to go to high ground and wait the rain out, but that’s not the solution that was chosen. The rain lightened up a little after the prayer, and that helped to see and to get back on the highway with courage and fear fighting each other for dominance. This was like David facing Goliath, or Moses facing Pharaoh, or Joshua facing the Canaanites: this was an epic battle of biblical proportions. So, they returned to the flat, leveled highway while the boy man told his grandma the distance to the next turn off the highway. He did this every few minutes to reassurance her—even though she was in a disadvantage driving at night in bad weather. The two in back held on to dear life facing fears with tears and unspeakable expressions of bravery. The thunder stuck very near as to frighten everyone in the car, but they drove on against the rain and the danger of flash flooding. 50 miles turned to 40 as the rain was humbled from its pride of battle; for God heard the prayers of everyone in that car. Although the rain was still around them, it was not as heavy, and grandma could see very far ahead of her.
40 miles turned to 30 miles, and time drifted slowly into oblivion while the battle raged on. Cars passed by while grandma drove at a safe and stable speed not to endanger everyone—not everyone on the road felt the same way. Another danger that Satan inspired, but could not win the victory over God; for the family still went on with bravery—despite the other cars. Eventually, the niece sat upright in her seat with no more tears to cry, allowing her uncle to let go of her, and they both faced the battle with active courage just like the rest of the family. 30 miles turned to 20 miles and then to 10 miles while the thunder, lightning, and rain were persistent in defiance. The exit was not far away; they went on it into another flat, leveled highway that led to Lexington, Kentucky. Everyone thought it wise to avoid the side roads, and went straight toward Lexington; the side roads would be flooded and seeking prey to devour. Therefore, the least dangerous path was the longest distance to the hotel: this meant extra time in the flash flood. But, prayers were being answered and the rain lightened, but the flashes of lightning didn’t seized. Fear turned to courage within the hearts of this family—no matter how many times the devil tried to discourage them. Eventually with silent, loud speed, they made it to Lexington, and went onto the highway to Georgetown just 15 minutes north of Lexington.
The master navigator overlord continued to whisper loud words of direction and encouragement to his grandma as it seemed that the danger had passed—even though the flash flood warning wouldn’t end until 1 am at night. They finally made it to their exit tired and eventful of life and glory, but one thing remained undone: desert. They stopped at wendy’s for frostys, paid for by the young, old man, which they enjoyed as a reward for facing the danger and the battle. Thus they reached the hotel which required a wide turn around a flooded corner to get there. The pool didn’t seem to be overflowed, but covered with a tarp. The rain seemed to died down, and the enemy seemed to have retreated from his war path for the time being. The family made it to their hotel room tired and prosperous with experiences with a surprise that their room and things were not harmed—even though they were on the bottom floor. As they got ready for bed and watched television to unwind from the events of the day, they all heard one last blast of thunder to try to frighten them, but it was to no avail. Finally the enemy seized his rage, and the family went to sleep after prayers and brushing of teeth. Therefore, this reality of infamy has come to a close, and the victory of this epic war has been won by a humble family who lived for their God. Franklin D Roosevelt had nothing on these creatures of Godly warfare; for they fought with spiritual weapons of war and not tanks and guns like in World War II.