Tag: Memoir

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A Thick Bible of Trucking Stories #1 ғɪɴᴀʟɪᴢᴇᴅ

The Time I Almost Got Killed by a Horse  And A Rolling Stones Cover 🐎…

Where does life all go? One moment you’re living it, and the next, it’s something you see in bed at night when you close your eyes. Or something you write about.

Late in 2o12, I was working for a small company out of Michigan called Heavyweight Enterprises, and I was leased on to Panther Premium Logistics based in Ohio. I was team driving, hauling critical expedited freight across the US and even some government loads for the Department of Defense.

I was living in Florida at the time in the beach house, and one of my driving partners was this older Native American lady named Mary. She lived in Northern Florida and had a big, beautiful farm with lots of land and livestock. Her husband stayed home and took care of the farm while she and I drove around like headless chickens from place to place non-stop.

One drives. One sleeps. We would stay out for about 2 weeks, then we’d go home and take a few days off, then do it all over again.

Mary was very pretty with a nice figure, and you never would have guessed she was 65 years old. She really took good care of herself. She was Miccosukee Indian and had straight, long black hair like coal running the length of her back. An Indian princess in her day. She had been a professional driver for many years, and it was all I could do to keep up with her. She taught me much.

On one of our trips, we weren’t that far from her house when we started having engine troubles. So we decided to take the truck to a mechanic shop near her town, and they said it would be a few days before they could even look at it to try and diagnose the problem. So we went back to her farm and took a few days off. I stayed in this cool little guest cabin she had.

It was actually so nice being there, almost like a little vacation. I was for sure in need of some chill time.

Her husband was a good guy, and fun to be around. It was wintertime in North Florida. He would make a bonfire, and we’d sit around, tell stories, and gaze up at the incredible, star-filled night sky. Then he would break out the mason jar of homemade apple pie moonshine with the cinnamon stick in it, and we would sip and pass… and try not to pass out. 😳… 🫠…

One morning at breakfast, Mary asked me if I had ever ridden a horse. Instantly, I had flashbacks of when I was a kid and had a very bad experience on one. I got bucked way up in the air and landed on the horse’s back on my stomach. It knocked the wind out of me, and as I flew off and hit the ground hard, I saw angels and more stars haha.

So I said yeah, I once tried to ride one. I told her what happened. Then she says, “It’s time to try again.”

I agreed. Plus, God has promised me a long life. So I’m not worried. 😁

Later that afternoon, we all went out to the stables and hung out with the horses. Mary had four of them and decided to put me on a younger tawny-colored mare she had named Penny.

Before I go any further, it might be good to point out that these horses don’t get ridden much these days. Just occasionally. Just sayin’.

I tried to get familiar with Penny some by touching her and talking to her. But she didn’t know me, and I’m sure she could tell I was a tad bit nervous.

Mary gave me some pointers as I climbed up and got set in the saddle. But as I pulled on the reins, she took off like lightning, with monster truck force. It turns out Penny had a bad tooth, and the bit in her mouth was just too painful for her.

She ran wildly and fast all over the place with me. I tried my best to control her. My heart was racing even faster. I could tell something was bad wrong, and this wasn’t a normal ride. She darted up into the woods with me, and as I dodged tree branches with my face, I knew I had to come up with a plan to get off this girl as quick as I could. Or else.

Once she got back down in the field, I decided now was my chance. She was still hauling ass, so I jumped off her. And my left foot hung in the stirrup. She dragged me in full stride for what seemed like forever. Finally, my foot came free, and I slid underneath her.

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She trampled me…

all over my legs.

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I laid there in pain like I hadn’t known before. Mary, her husband, and her neighbors all ran to me. I tried to get up and walk, then I collapsed again. I was just relieved to be off her back.

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I didn’t go to the hospital that day, but I probably should have. I had trouble walking for about two weeks. My legs were deep black and blue, purple and pink, with some shades of green even. They looked like far away galaxies. I’ve never had bruises like that.

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When I look closely today, I can still vaguely see Penny’s hoof print tattooed on my lower leg as a reminder.

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A horse with a bad tooth can outrun the wind and win any race. 🐎…………………

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And it’s best to wait till they return from the dentist to ride them. 🪥

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Just sayin’. 😎

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Wild Horses

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a Miccosukee woman

© 2026 Bryan Loia Hudson. All rights reserved.

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The Only Time I Went to Jail

I’ve only been to jail once in my life, and it wasn’t fun. But I’m glad I don’t have more experiences to write about on this subject 😁

It was the summer of 95′, I believe. I was 22.

I was hanging out at my good friend’s house that night. It was probably 2am, and we were sitting around chillin, enjoying the weekend. We had a few people over, and I was playing guitar, singing, and entertaining everyone.

Then my friend asked me if I would drive him over to another one of our friends’ houses. I forget why exactly, but he needed to get something from him or something like that. I’m not sure.

So I said that I would, but told him not to take any drugs with him because I didn’t want to be ridin’ around at 2 o’clock in the morning with drugs in my car.

He assured me that he would leave all the drugs at home lol 🏡

So we headed out. I had an old 1981 white Camaro at the time. We made it to our destination and hung out for about 30 minutes. Then we left and started making our way back home.

We were about halfway when the blue lights exploded behind me, almost blinding me as they reflected in all my mirrors.

So I pulled over, and the officer approached my window. He told me that he pulled me over because one of my taillights was really dim. He asked me a few questions, and I answered them. I was cool, calm, and relaxed. I’m not worried at all about anything.

Then he walks around to the passenger side and starts talking to my buddy. He was really nervous and kind of stuttering, not giving very good answers. But I didn’t think much of it because that’s just how he was a lot of the time.

So then the officer comes back to my side and says to me, “Your friend is acting very nervous. Do I have your permission to search the vehicle?”

And then I say, “This is just how he is sometimes, officer. Sure, you can search. We have nothing to hide.”

So he tells us to step around and stand at the back of my car while he does his thing. And we did.

So the cop 👮‍♂️ is on the passenger side looking around when suddenly he screams at us, “PUT YOUR HANDS ON THE BACK OF THE VEHICLE AND DON’T MOVE!!!”

And I’m just like 🙆🤦 Then I say to my friend, “WTH, man?! I told you not to bring anything!”

He said nothing.

So it turns out he had a little baggie of drugs on him that he threw onto my floorboard because he got scared.

Then the officer cuffs us both, puts us in the back of his unit, and hauls our butts off to the county jail.

I got thrown into a small holding cell, just me and this weird dude.

The guy wore grooves on the floor just walking back and forth for hours, never speaking or even acknowledging my presence.

He had what looked like an old Polaroid photo in his hand. It had been ripped open, and I kid you not, he was licking whatever substance was inside it. He just kept walking back and forth, non-stop for hours, licking on that thing.

It was insane. I was just like, “Where am I right now?”

Finally, they came and got me, booked me, and put me in an open pod with maybe 40 other guys.

I was exhausted and ended up sleeping. The next day, I woke up, and it really hit me. I was in jail. 🫥

It was supper time now, and they brought us some food. So I sat down to try and eat. It was garbage. I just couldn’t do it.

Then this older guy sat beside me and tried to start up a conversation. He looked to be in his 40s, maybe. He asked me what I was in for, so I didn’t go into detail, but I told him a little bit about what happened.

Then I asked him the same thing. What did he do to get himself in such a wonderful place?

He proceeds to tell me this story about how his girlfriend’s parents don’t like him and don’t want the two of them together, so they’re trying to cause trouble for him.

That didn’t really add up for me, so I asked some more questions. How come they don’t want yall together?

Then he says, “They think she’s too young for a relationship.”

So I asked how old she was?

Then he says, “Well, she’s 12, but I love her, and they can’t stop us from being together.”

At this point, I just stood up, grabbed my tray, and walked away. I found somewhere else to sit.

I spent 3 days in there, giving serious thought to my life. Then my parents came and bailed me out.

I got myself an attorney and went to see him at his office. I told him everything that happened. He said to give him a week or two, and he would be in touch.

A few weeks went by, and my phone rang. It was him. He said he had some great news. He’d gone to see my friend in jail and gotten him to sign a statement saying that everything was his and that I had no knowledge of it.

That was such a great thing for my friend to do for me, and I’ll always appreciate him for that.

My charges were eventually dismissed, and he ended up getting charged with other things as well and stayed in jail for a while.

He and I are still friends today. He’s a Christian now and active in his church. He turned his life around, just like me.

Turns out that night in jail wasn’t the end of either one of our stories.

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© 2026 Bryan Loia Hudson. All rights reserved.

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A Thick Bible of Trucking Stories

I’ve got many miles behind me.

I have many cool and crazy stories from my truck driving career. So i think I’ll do a new series. It may not be a weekly thing just as I have time and get them penned. Some I may use for my book in the future.

I drove for about 17 years, from 97 to 2oO8 then I worked in ministry from 2oO8-12 then I started driving again from 2o12-16. Then I hung it up for a little bit.

Then from 2o17-19 I drove a straight truck for my church thriftstore. It’s not what you think of when you think thriftstore… they do millions in sales every year. In between this time i also went on some mission trips around the world.

It’s nice working for your church. It’s flexible lol.

Some of my career was spent all over the US running solo, with a handful of different companies and team driving and training new drivers. I ran local in Atlanta for some years and Florida too. I had my own truck and business also for awhile in Atlanta.

In fact… I could write a thick Bible of just these stories.

I got some good ones.

But we’ll leave that for the reader to decide. 😎

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Featured image credit to Big Rig Jig by Mike Ross Studios – Street Art Cities

© 2026 Bryan Loia Hudson. All rights reserved.

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This Song Here

🎙️ A Pat Green Cover

Seems I always have a song playing inside me. I often wake up in the night or in the morning with different ones in my heart and on my lips.

This song here, I’ve had in me for like a week now. It’s from 2oO3, I think. I’m a big Pat Green fan. I used to do this one often on piano at a bar I played at back in the day.

That reminds me… I need to get another piano or a nice keyboard. But I like an actual piano better.

Early on in my life, this song was spiritual for me, but now it’s taken on a whole new meaning.

Anyway, this song reminds me of my girlfriend. I recorded it yesterday for her. She’s a special lady. Beautiful inside and out.

So here’s one for all the great wives and future wives.

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Wave on Wave

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© 2026 Bryan Lo¡a Hudson. All r¡ghts reserved.

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A UFO in Roswell Georgia? 👽🛸🎧🎙🎸ʳ̷ᵉ̷ᵛ̷ⁱ̷ˢ̷ᵉ̷ᵈ̷

My family’s UFO story and my cover of Incubus

If aliens arrived tomorrow, what’s the first thing you’d ask them?

Hmm, I’d probably ask something and tell something… does your planet have whores? And watch out for frenemies while you’re here.

Seriously though, let me tell you a real alien story. When I was a boy, I used to enjoy looking through the family photo albums my mama had. There were like 3 or 4 big thick ones just full of pictures, and in between the pages were many loose ones, so I had to be careful handling them because they would fall out.

To me It was like reading these wonderful stories without words, I just loved it. One picture caught my attention the first time I saw it. It was a Polaroid the kind you shake lol. But it was all black except for right in the center was this silver lookin’ saucer shaped thingy that was all lit up. So I showed my mama and asked her what it was? And she was like “ahhh yes I remember this one, it’s a UFO”

So she began to tell me the story. One night, her and my dad and me (I was a baby) were in the car driving, and we were crossing the Chattahoochee river bridge just north of Atlanta in Roswell Georgia… wait! Hold up, Roswell Georgia, Roswell New Mexico, UFO’s hmmm. 🤔

So anyways we were crossing the river, with other vehicles when suddenly this flying saucer thing appeared in the sky over the river just hovering and it was all lit up and all the other cars stopped and everyone got out of their vehicles and was just gazing up at it amazed. Of course, I don’t remember any of this lol.

My mama grabbed her camera and managed to capture it before it shot out of sight on a blink.

Over the years, I would show the pic to my friends and stuff. It was so cool looking. I’m not sure if my mama still has it. The last time I saw it was like in the mid-90s.

But this kind of started a curiosity in me at a young age for unidentified things in the sky.

Also, when I saw this prompt and began to think about what i would write, the song ‘wish you were here, by Incubus popped into my head and i started singing it. So I went ahead and recorded it to go along with the story

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*ʷᵒʳᵈ ᵈⁱˢᶜˡᵃⁱᵐᵉʳ*…”ʷʰᵒʳᵉ” ʰᵉʳᵉ ᵐᵉᵃⁿˢ ᵗʰᵒˢᵉ ʷʰᵒ ˢᵉˡˡ ᵗʰᵉᵐˢᵉˡᵛᵉˢ ᶠᵒʳ ᵐᵒⁿᵉʸ.ᵈᵒᵉˢⁿ’ᵗ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ˢᵉˣᵘᵃˡ…ᵒʳ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᵇʳᵒᵃᵈˡʸ ᵃˢ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵒⁿᵉ ʷʰᵒ ˢᵉˡˡˢ ᵗʰᵉᵐˢᵉˡᵛᵉˢ, ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ᵖʳⁱⁿᶜⁱᵖˡᵉˢ, ᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ⁱᵈᵉⁿᵗⁱᵗʸ ᶠᵒʳ ᵐᵒⁿᵉʸ ᵒʳ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒⁿᵃˡ ᵍᵃⁱⁿ…ᴀʟsᴏ ᴛʜᴇ “ɢʀᴇᴀᴛ ᴡʜᴏʀᴇ ᴏғ ʙᴀʙʏʟᴏɴ” ɪs ᴀ sʏᴍʙᴏʟɪᴄ ғɪɢᴜʀᴇ ᴅᴇsᴄʀɪʙᴇᴅ ɪɴ ʀᴇᴠᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴ 17-18. sʜᴇ ʀᴇᴘʀᴇsᴇɴᴛs
ᴀ ᴄᴏʀʀᴜᴘᴛ, ᴘᴏᴡᴇʀғᴜʟ sʏsᴛᴇᴍ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪs
ᴏᴘᴘᴏsᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ɢᴏᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ɪs ᴀssᴏᴄɪᴀᴛᴇᴅ
ᴡɪᴛʜ ɪᴍᴍᴏʀᴀʟɪᴛʏ, ᴡᴇᴀʟᴛʜ, ᴘᴏʟɪᴛɪᴄᴀʟ
ᴘᴏᴡᴇʀ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴘᴇʀsᴇᴄᴜᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏғ ɢᴏᴅ’s
ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ.

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Incubus – Wish You Were Here – Alien Mix

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Toss some money into this street musician’s hat, I’ll play you a song.
https://ko-fi.com/heartofloia 👈

👽🛸🎧🎙🎸📻🧢

© 2026 Bryan Loia Hudson. All rights reserved.

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It’s Beautiful Here

A story of my Grandmama and a song

I’ve been thinking a lot about my Grandmama lately. Today is her birthday. She would have been 93.

She passed away suddenly in the spring of 2oO4, and it was really hard on my family, especially my mama, because in those last few years, the two of them had a rocky mother-daughter relationship. And they just wasted the time.

They didn’t always see eye to eye or treat each other the way they should, and my mama was holding onto things that she had a hard time letting go of.

I’ve been flooded with memories of her today. I was her first grand baby, and she thought the world of me. She was always around as I was growing up. She helped raise me.

I even lived with her at times in the early 80s because my mama was really sick and in and out of the hospital for a few years, having major surgeries and almost losing her life several times.

Then later she moved in with us, so throughout my life I spent a lot of time with her. Just memory after memory.

I remember once, I had a breakup with my girlfriend at the time, and she started dating this new guy. Well, he and two of his friends decided to show up at my house, and they were looking for a fight.

So, I walked out in the driveway and faced all three of them by myself.

Well, I thought I was by myself until I turned around and saw my Grandmama standing there in her house coat with a broom in her hand, ready to swing it. Then she says, “I GOT YOUR BACK SON!”

I couldn’t believe it.

I was like, “Grandmama, put that broom down and go in the house before you hurt yourself, I got this.” Haha.

But she didn’t. She stayed right there with me as I proceeded to whip all three of them. 😁😎

She loved for me to sit around and play my guitar and sing for her. She would make requests. Like “Take Me Home Country Roads” by John Denver and a few others.

She would clap her hands and tap her feet, and sing along. She was an old school country girl, and she had a strong Southern drawl. She sounded like Dolly Parton when she talked. 😁

She was a special lady to me. She was a Christian, but she wasn’t always.

The story I’m about to tell… you can decide on your own what to think or feel about it. I’m just going to tell you what I witnessed that day.

It was the day after she died. I was at my mama’s house. And my mama was in very bad shape inside. The guilt she was feeling was just too much for anyone to handle, and I had never seen her this way.

It was as if she died too.

She so wished that she had of done things differently. Instead of always arguing. She wished she would have said “I love you” to her mother because she did. But now she couldn’t.

Ever.

Now, suddenly, everything that was keeping her from this when her mother was alive meant absolutely nothing.

My mama cried and cried and cried non-stop.

She decided to go out and sit in her garden for a while and be alone.

She had been out there for maybe an hour. I was standing in the kitchen drinking coffee and looking out the window. I could see her off in the distance sitting on a little bench wearing her big-brimmed sunhat, surrounded by her flowers.

When suddenly, she jumps up and starts running toward the house.

I can’t believe what I’m seeing. I immediately think the worst. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her run. So I thought something was bad wrong.

As she approached the back door, I hurried to meet her as I could hear her crying out my name.

She bursts through the door out of breath and in tears. But not the kind I thought. These were tears of joy.

She’s trying to talk, but she can’t really, and I’m like, “What happened? Are you okay? What is going on?”

Then she cries out and says, “I JUST TALKED TO MY MAMA!!! I JUST TALKED TO MY MAMA!!!”

Then she says, “YOU CAN SMELL HER ALL OVER ME!!! SMELL ME!!! SMELL!!!”

Then I began to smell my Grandmama’s perfume, and her scent spread through and filled the entire kitchen.

It was one of those powerful moments in life that you dont forget.

Come to find out, she says that God allowed her to have this moment with her mother.

She says they spoke. That she heard her voice. They both apologized and said, “I love you.”

And she said my Grandmama told her, “Jackie baby, I know you love me.”

Then she said, My Grandmama said, “It’s beautiful here.”

From that day on, my mama was okay. She put it all behind her and was able to find peace.

She got another chance.

She was able to say one last time, after the fact, what she couldn’t say in life.

And I think you know the moral of this one.

Happy Birthday Grandmama.

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A John Denver Cover – Take Me Home Country Roads

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She And I In 1973
Her And My Nephew in 2oO0

© 2026 bryanforchrist. all rights reserved.

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Real Life Hunger Games

It’s 9am on a Saturday morning and you’re in your kitchen, sipping coffee and trying to wake up and sober up from a crazy night of drunken naked twister with your neighbors Jim and Linda when suddenly you look out the window and you can’t believe your eyes. There’s 50 individuals dressed in full camouflage and carrying guns walking down your street.

WTH! OH NO… IT’S ARMAGEDDON! I MISSED THE RAPTURE! PUTIN IS ATTACKING!

Wait… hold up for a second, relax. Don’t freak out just yet.

Is it maybe possible that you and your vintage Volvo station wagon with the Flux Capacitor just somehow traveled back in time to my neighborhood in 1988?

If this is the case, then don’t worry. It’s not Putin.

It’s just me and my friends, and they’re just BB guns. We left our real ones at home today. Maybe tomorrow.

We are on our way to the woods behind your house to play war and shoot at each other.

It’s ok don’t worry. You’re safe, and we’ll try not to shoot your windows or each other’s eyes out. But I can’t promise ya.

Let the real Hunger Games begin. 😎

Ok… enough with the time travel. Let me really take you back to 1988.

Often on the weekends, all the guys in my neighborhood would get together in the woods and play war or capture the flag. Usually we would have around 10 people on a team and there was normally like 40 or more of us.

Everyone had BB guns. And many were high-powered pump rifles.

We had a 3-pump rule and no shooting in the face or manhood.

But those rules weren’t always followed. Luckily though, no one ever lost an eye, but many got wounded and ended up digging BB’s and pellet shrapnel out from under their skin.

And I’m willing to bet that still today some guys have trouble going through the metal detectors at airports. lol

Seriously though, it was no joke man. It was intense. Fight or flight. All-out survival. People were trying to literally freaking hurt you… shoot you and make you bleed. You had to play smart. Lol

It was real life Hunger Games.

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© 2026 Bryan Loia Hudson. All rights reserved.

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From the Heart of Me ☄️

I have a lot of stories about my life still left to write, so I’m taking a break from my weekly Hidden Gems From The B-Side posts and the Friday Hank Jr. posts I’ve been doing.

At some point I’ll return to them. Eventually, I think I’ll move on from Hank Jr. and maybe do Bob Dylan next. And maybe in the future I’ll do some more of the Shakespeare & Me & Guest ones too.

Right now, though, I want to get some of my life stories written down so I’ll have them for my memoir down the road.

Oh, also… I have some of my song recordings from the bathroom that I would consider bloopers or just funny moments, and I plan on doing a special limited edition post. A lot of these were recorded before I ever decided to post them here. Most of them were just ones I did and sent to different friends and stuff in texts, just goofing off, trying to be funny, or just making funny mistakes while practicing or experimenting.

And to give you an idea of the atmosphere of how I record, I go into my little small bathroom and shut the door behind me. I either sit on the toilet or on a little stool that I have. I open my audio app, then sit my phone down on a roll of toilet paper on a small shelf above the toilet. Then I grab my guitar, press record, sit down, and whatever happens happens.

But I’ll be sharing these.

I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you and your support, also. I’m honored to be here on WordPress with you, and I love reading your blog. It helps me.

So thank you.

No, really.

From the heart of me.

© 2026 Bryan Loia Hudson. All rights reserved.

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The Human Tugboat

What’s the bravest thing you’ve ever done when no one was watching?

I’m not sure this is the bravest thing. I have some better ones I could write about but this just came to mind, a memory I had almost forgotten.

When I was young, growing up in Georgia, there was a beautiful 10 acre lake way back up in the woods behind my house. My birthday is in September, so I believe I was 13 at the time, about to turn 14.

Anyways, the lake was full of big bass and huge bluegill. Me and my friends spent many a day fishing it and sometimes swimming, but we had to be careful because it had its share of venomous water moccasin snakes, aka the Cottonmouth. I mentioned these in my earlier post on snakes, but if you got bit, there was no one around to help you and no way to call 911.

So one hot and humid summer day I borrowed my neighbor’s 12 foot aluminum jon boat. It was just what you call a blank hull. It had no motor or extras or seats except for bench type seating made into the body. It was as plain Jane as they come. It was also fairly lightweight as boats go and it had a long rope tied to the bow of it.

My friends and I would get 2 or sometimes 3 of us to a side and tote it with our fishing gear laid inside it, then walk the 45 minutes through the woods on the trails to get to the lake, stopping occasionally to rest.

So yeah, that particular day we made it to the lake, we put the boat in the water, paddled out and started fishing.

We didn’t care about life jackets in them days. They were for lil kids. We were grown ass men. Might as well have arm floaties on 😎😁

I remember the fish not biting that day, probably because it was so hot. After a while my friends got tired of fishing and began to joke around, goof off, act like dummies and started rocking the boat. Long story short, the boat filled with water then flipped and went under, so we all grabbed what we could and swam to shore. And we weren’t like panicked or anything, we were cool. It was no big deal. I had my rod and reel and my tacklebox in hand and still managed to make it, at times swimming on my back.

I remember I was pissed though because I had borrowed the boat and I was responsible for it. They didn’t really give a shit. They all ended up going home, but I stayed because another friend from a neighborhood on the other side of the woods was supposed to meet me there later that afternoon. Of course, we didn’t have cell phones back then, so I had no way of contacting him. I decided to hang out and wait.

I started back fishing from shore. As I looked out across the water, I noticed something. It looked like the very top tip of the boat was sticking out of the water. Then I realized it hadn’t sunk all the way.

I was so happy to see this and that it wasn’t at the bottom. I knew that long rope was still attached to it, so I thought if I could get to that, then maybe there was a chance to save it and pull the boat in.

I figured maybe it was somewhat buoyant being just a lightweight empty hull. Also, possibly it had some air or something trapped in it. I don’t know.

So I took my shoes and shirt off and got in the water and swam to the boat. It was a good ways out, probably 40 or 50 yards.

Did I mention I’m a great swimmer? Not to brag or anything but it is what it is for this story. 😁

Oh and also, there was absolutely no one around to save me if I got in trouble.

But I had to try. I didn’t want to have to look my neighbor in the eye later and tell him what happened.

So I made it to the exposed part of the bow and grabbed on and kind of rested for a spell. I was also able to tell that the boat was at a good angle and just sitting there about 4 feet under the water at the stern.

After I chilled for a few and regained some strength, I found the rope and pulled on the boat some and it began to move.

Ok I got this… here we go. Get ready, let’s give it a go and see what happens.

So I started swimming like a human tugboat. It was tough and it remained partially submerged, but I made it back to shore… with the boat, mind you. I was exhausted but never for a moment did I feel like I was in danger of going under. But if that boat went under, then my ass would really be in danger.

It was a great way to end a day of fishing.

Hey deddy… guess what? I caught a 12 footer today! You should have seen it!

And what can I say? Not too bad for a 13 year old Gen X kid, alone by himself in the middle of nowhere, in the middle of a lake with a half sunken neighbor’s boat. 🤷‍♂️

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Brad Paisley Cover… I’m Gonna Miss Her.

ᵗʰⁱˢ ⁱˢ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ⁱ’ᵛᵉ ᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵗʰⁱˢ ˢᵒⁿᵍ. ⁱ ʲᵘˢᵗ ʳᵉᶜᵒʳᵈᵉᵈ ⁱᵗ ᵃⁿ ʰᵒᵘʳ ᵃᵍᵒ. ᵖʳᵃᶜᵗⁱᶜᵉ ˡᵒˡ.

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© 2026 Bryan Loia Hudson. All rights reserved.

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Posted on

I Shall Not Be Moved ¹⁴³

Possibly A Poema

You who want me dead
and often try instead.

Do you realize it’s been twenty years now?

off and on?

Have you ever thought that it’s just not time?

Time for me to go?

After all your tries I still pass by.

Seriously, just think.

Think of all the times.

How many is it now?

Eight? Nine?

Times that you’ve tried and I’m still here.

You sure make for great storytelling.

You must not know the things I know?

The ONE who’s by my side.

I dreamt all this in the nineties.

Before you ever knew me,

I knew you.

And…

In my dream

You were just a small white horse.

The Great Green Eyed Lion behind me,

HE saw you.

Saw that you wished me harm.

Then out from behind me HE came.

Came for you.

HE was angry with you
but delighted in me.

HE swallowed you whole.

Before I ever knew you,

you were already defeated.

Like pharaoh’s army,
The depths will cover you.

I’d turn back now.

This is a pivotal spot for you.

These things I know.

It’s not wishful thinking.

HE told me.

For me not to worry.

And I don’t.

And you don’t have to worry about me.

Yet you do.

The time has finally come.

For life to start again.

My life that is.

Yours too.

If you so choose.

Therefore…

These things I hope you’ll heed.

These things I know you’ll read.

And just like a tree,

planted by the waters

I shall not be moved.

An Old African-American Spiritual Folk Song From The South

Jeremiah 17:7-8 • Psalm 1:3
Psalm 16:8 • Psalm 62:6

featured image by Signeflinkart by Deviantart

© 2026 Bryan Loia Hudson. All rights reserved.

`’.,°~