Up Close & Personal, A Frogman’s Life…

Morning: Bama Bison Ranch

This morning did not disappoint. We woke up to fresh air and the serenity of camping on the 50-acre Bama Bison Ranch. Let me be clear: Justin woke me up because he did not want me to miss the morning. When I popped my head outside the RV, my slight annoyance at the early awakening vanished before I could blink and fully focus my groggy eyes; he was right to wake me. The tangerine sunrise pushed amongst a few cottontail clouds and kissed the treeline at the edge of the grassy meadow. It was tranquil and heavenly; if one could bottle this feeling, they would make a fortune.

An Organic Americana with a splash of Irish cream would be the cherry on top of an already great morning. Still, my willpower was strong, and I made my daily morning veggie and greens drink and knew that my weekly Sunday cup of coffee would be here soon enough.

A Rancher’s Work Ethic

The morning only got better when Amy, the owner of this beautiful ranch, picked us up in her Can-Am UTV and took us over to the herd of Bison; while driving over, we learned all about her Airbnb, the events this property can host from Birthday parties to weddings, the plans she has for improving the already fantastic campground. What impressed us even more is that she runs this property entirely on her own except for occasional help from a friend. A rancher’s work ethic is something to be marveled at. They work seven days a week, usually from sun-up to sundown.

Up Close and Personal

When we arrived at the herd of Bison, Amy opened the gate and put down a few healthy pellet treats they seemed to enjoy. Still, the lush grass fields provide ample grazing, and Amy’s majestic Bison were happy and healthy; they are so healthy and well-fed on a vegan lifestyle that then and there, it confirmed to me that the Vegan lifestyle is not so good for your waistline. I mean, look at these beautiful creatures; they are anything but thin. But they were the happiest and friendliest Bison I have ever seen. I attribute that to excellent animal husbandry. You can always tell when an animal is truly loved and cared for; they often develop a sweet disposition.

When we go to Yellowstone, you see all the wild Buffalo standing in the streets and the idiot tourists who get out and get up close and personal, and you just know that at any moment, one of these Buffalo can drastically alter their life. You can’t help but think, “It’s a survival of the fittest kind of world.” So when Amy opened the gate, led the Bison over, and got out and up close and personal with these Bison, I knew she was raising these awe-inspiring beasts with love and compassion. Justin and I joined her in the field only a few feet from the herd. A lone cow nuzzled her way in for some head scratching; Amy took her in from a neighbor.

I purposely took this Bison Photo from where I stood and did not zoom in or alter it. These two Bison seemed to be in love, and as Amy put it, he whispered sweet nothings in her ear.

Time to go

We learned more about Amy and her nine years as a military engineer and concluded our time with her, but not before buying a couple of packages of Bison meat. It was an honor to spend time with Amy on her beautiful ranch.

Quigley Fun and Freedom

Quigley also enjoyed his time on the ranch, running free and chasing balls, finding new sticks, learning about Canadian geese, and smelling all the smells of nature.

Togetherness

We left the Bama Bison Ranch just before 1 in the afternoon and spent the rest of the day driving except for a short stop to fuel up and eat. We were tired and decided to find a campground, but this route had very few. I found one with a unique name: “Togetherness Works RV Park.” in Guin, Alabama. I called and spoke to the owner, Junior, and asked if he had any large rig sites; “Sure do.” We arrive, and Junior, an average cotton-topped man, is out front waiting to take us to the site. He said, “Follow me and be careful; it’s steep, and don’t stop, or you’ll slide on the loose gravel.” We are in the middle of the deep woods, and Justin put her in 4-wheel drive, and we headed up the narrow slope, rocks spitting from under the wheels. Justin gets excited when he gets to hit the 4-wheel drive button. We are pulling a 26k-pound RV up a slippery, loose gravel, steep slope. It was a little nerve-wracking for me, but we made it. Justin is a great driver.

Justin unhooked, leveled her out, and plugged in the RV while listening to my conversation with Junior.

Junior: In search of a dry warm bed

It was the end of the 1940s, WWII had ended, and most soldiers and sailors were coming home; they had been through enough. Overwhelmingly, these soldiers were deciding not to re-enlist. But 15-year-old Junior had different plans; he was searching for a warm, dry bed and heard he’d get just that by serving in the military. So, with the help of his then-girlfriend, Mary (who forged his mother’s signature), he lied and enlisted in the U.S. Navy. It was a time when the military was not so discerning, and well, Junior was just what they needed: eager and moldable, and that’s just what the Navy would do; they shape young Junior into a man and sailor who would eventually become part of one of our most elite fighting teams, a Frogman as they called them back then, today they are better known as Navy Seals. He would end up sleeping in trenches, up trees, and many other places that were not the warm, dry bed he signed up for.

From Boy to Heroic Frogman

Junior led six men: they were a seven-member assassin and rescue team. Uncle Sam sent Junior and his team all over the world. We learned about his time in North Korea, Africa, and the Middle East. But his life would change forever in the early 1960s, under Cuba’s oppressive, violent regime. The Bay of Pigs invasion had just occurred, and Junior and his team were on a top-secret mission to rescue an American doctor and his family. Armed with only what they could carry, they emerged from a submarine and onto an inflatable dinghy; they would be rowing in darkness to face the devil head-on. They made it to the Cuban shores undetected by the Russians standing post. Their target was located and secured as they returned to the dinghy, guided by only the moon and their limited tactical gear; that’s when the hell was unleashed upon them–hell in the form of Russian firepower. It didn’t end well for those Russian soldiers, and Junior’s Frogman team had a few injuries. But the doctor and his family were unscathed. Junior took a bullet leading to one of his two purple hearts.

Although wounded in Cuba, Junior carried out the mission. They also rescued six young Cuban women. The now overcrowded dinghy barely made it back to the submarine, and to pour salt in their wounds, Junior and all his team members were demoted one rank. The submarine captain was none too pleased with Junior’s team for bringing the exiling Cuban women. But Junior said he would do it all over again because all six of those young Cuban women are alive today and living with their families as U.S. citizens in Florida; Junior has continued to stay in touch with them over the years.

One Piece at a Time…

Junior’s time as a Frogman left him with a broken body full of physical and emotional scars. After 18 years of service, he retired and got some help for his injuries. While in the Navy, Junior developed a special bond with his Navy-issued sniper rifle. It saved his life and those of this team on many occasions. So he had one last mission: to find a way to keep his sniper rifle when he retired. And like the great Johnny Cash song, he took it out one piece at a time. The only part he wasn’t able to sneak out was the scope.

Love of his life

Eventually moving back to Alabama and reconnecting with the love of his life, you remember Mary, the girl who forged his mom’s signature and why he joined the Navy. He married Mary, and they raised six children, nine grandchildren, and fifteen great-grandchildren. They spent every day for 49 years together, working and growing businesses and traveling our country in an RV; they visited all 48 continental states and Alaska twice. Junior joked that his Mary didn’t want to put their RV on a pontoon boat to Hawaii. They then stopped traveling, cleared more of their land for campers, and began rescuing abused women; they hid these women in cabins and trailers in their woods, giving them security and an escape from the abuse.

Always by her side

When Mary got sick two years ago, he never left her side, even renting a family care room in the hospital where she was; he spent every possible moment with her, and their constant “Togetherness” is the reason behind the unique name of their campground in the woods (Togetherness Works RV Park). Last year, Mary looked up at Junior and whispered, “See You, Later Gator,” the last words she would ever say to him. I could see the immense pain in his eyes and feel his deep love for Mary every time he talked about her.

When discussing his heartache, Junior describes how he hasn’t slept much or well since she left him; he says he rolls over, and she’s not there. He can’t touch her, feel her breathing, or hear her heartbeat. He made a new bed and got a new mattress, but nothing has helped, because it was not the furniture, but Mary that gave junior that warm, dry bed he longed for at 15. He now plays solitaire all night until his eyelids get too heavy to open.

A winning life

Junior is now in his late 80s and gets around better than people 30 years younger than him despite missing 40% of his lungs, having rods and pins keeping his spine together, being shot twice, and breaking countless bones. We can all take a lesson from Junior, a man who put fear on the back burner and experienced life at its fullest, the wins and the losses, but if Junior is playing the game of life–he has already won. I can only hope to play the game of life as well as Junior did. We thank him immensely for his service and sacrifices in the name of Freedom. We pray that when “later” comes, she will again see her gator, and he will once again roll over and feel her heartbeat.

Meet: Junior Beasley

Stay tuned to see how we manage to get out of this campground; what goes up must come down…