Understanding Apples Press

09/05/2024

Placesetting (from the book Renting Pews by JS Moore)

By then I knew that everything good and bad left an emptiness when it stopped. But if it was bad, the emptiness filled up by itself. If it was good you could only fill it by finding something better.
-Hemingway

Went to sign in at Zaiden's school Abraham Lincoln Elementary to eat lunch with him in the cafeteria but signing in at the kiosk like normal there is an error message which states unable to proceed, contact the front desk. The clerk Kathy prints out the nametag/sticker but totally loses color in her face as if she has a secret when she says it just means there's some offender with my same name. Bah. Balderdash. The school is totally a part of this big cover up and conspiracy where they did not report in 2022 and 2023 on numerous occasions when Zaiden showed up to school injured and making disclosures of child abuse to his teachers and the counselor. This prevented any investigation. Now I'm gonna have lunch with the boy.

Zaiden is elated to have a visitor. It is unexpected I would surprise him but I try to do this as often as I am able. His little classmates try and sit next to me but I save my son a seat. He comes over smiling with his cafeteria tray of corn, mini-corndogs, and chocolate milk.
I cooked fried rice and carrots with onions and peppers and eat them with chopsticks. I hand Zaiden his size chopsticks and he eats his corn and corn dogs with them. The other kids are surprised how proficient he is with the chopsticks. He tells them it just takes plenty of practice. Once done eating I notice the school counselor Tammy Williams and school resource officer Payton Smith with KPD are hovering close by. That's a first for me to see them in the cafeteria and maybe they have some other reason to be in there but standing so close to myself and my son. Who knows. But I do not trust the city of Kingsport nor it's school system and definitely not the police to do the right thing or follow the law since I haven't had a great experience at all when it has came to the safety of my child. If I had full custody I would have him either at a county school, a private school or would teach him myself. There's a man named Jeff Fleming whom is a former city manager for the city and his overpaying job now is to recruit people from other areas - mostly other states from the middle class or higher - to relocate to Kingsport. He feeds them the usual bu****it, but fails to mention our healthcare system Ballad Healthcare has the lowest rated healthcare not just in the region but in the Southeastern United States. Hands down winner there. Should be transparent about things life that, don't you think? Anyway, it was still a good visit with my favorite person in the entire world.

When it was time for me to return him yesterday evening he first pretended to have fallen asleep but when I asked him to ready his things he said he was unwell. I asked what was wrong and he just started crying, "I don't want to go." Now if it were up to me he would never go back there. He's gone through so much in his six years but more importantly those persons in positions of authority like law enforcement, child services and the educational system have largely failed him and protected the actual offenders. My son could not have made these stories up - and even when he has the bruises to back up his story - the narrative is continually shaped by people whom are either leveraged in some way or influenced in how to do their actual jobs by someone outranking them. I will continue to name off these individuals as I make the time to write it down. What do I have to lose? They are already trying to silence me through the court and through intimidation tactics. Oh yeah,. almost forgot about the man at the bottom of the hill named Fink who has been following me and harassing me on the roads in his older model blue Honda Accord. I've taken his picture and am well aware he mustn't be trusted. And he doesn't care who is in the car with me, he is straight dangerous and a bully. He has a few chapters coming up anyway as I've already written about him previously yet haven't published it yet about when he vandalized my home in 2022 and no one would even investigate because he was a disgraced Gate City Police Chief but working his way back up in private security. Back to the lunch experience and apologies on the ramble. Went to sign out as usual since I had a nametag printed upon entering and "Oh no," Kathy states, "I'm gonna have to sign you out as well." "Have a nice day," I tell her and I leave. Phew! Never a dull moment.

Suggested Listening: Comedown by Bush and Great Love of My Life by Kate Wolf

Provided to YouTube by CDBabyGreat Love of My Life · Kate WolfSafe at Anchor℗ 1979 Owl RecordsReleased on: 1979-07-01Auto-generated by YouTube.

09/02/2024

Placeholder by JS Moore and _______ (finished September 2, 2024

Pause... the new mayor is a reprobate
A charlatan, a gifted fake
Ubiquitous where malady makes plan
Learned, groomed by the east man
Matriculated first in glade springs
Ouroboros squeezing humanity
Never ceasing yet uncanny
The serpent has marching orders
Given by willie - the money insane -
Oh that driven to success mclain
Mends fences, fathers many a child
Every see eff oh i'll ever know lines up with the see eey oh
Rending rock cairns with a scythe and so
You quietly take their lumps out in the wild.

August 31st, 2024 without a real plan I set out early with my loyal cattle dog to explore the yard sales and flea markets of Saturday morning. Wanell thrives when a part of her pack and it's kind of like mowing a gigantic lawn with many fixtures to factor in so we don't have a set path but just get in our Ford Bronco Heritage model and go. Two mornings prior the Mayor-elect and I
broke bread at Two Dad's restaurant at the Five Points of downtown Kingsport in a building which served for decades as John Greene's gambling joint. This location is also a frisbee throw away from another regional landmark called Church Circle. But we did meet around 8:30am on the 29th of August and had a civil discussion about the area's rich and unique history and I congratulated him on his sound defeat of Collete George, Tim Sanders, and Sara Buchanan. He shared about his upbringing, his own children, parenting style and his plans to visit the Grand Canyon with his son Curtis after being sworn in as newly elected and first black Mayor of the Model City. We'd had lunch together at La Carreta some months earlier before the municipal
election had been settled also. I'd asked for this meeting to confirm a rumor of a meeting between Senator Jon Lundberg, Judge Jim Goodwin, and himself and got the
confirmation without a written confession, of course. Now - personally - I would not expect a business owner to sabotage their own financial situation with the elites in town
by asking for a sworn affidavit. That would be my final act if I were desperate. No, it's rare for me to ask anyone for assistance of any kind. But here I was with a broken wrist and jacked up knee from a run in with the Kingsport police whom were - in essence - following
the direction of their watch commander whom got their marching orders from these three powerful sycophants. I'd also asked for this meeting with him to sit down to actually deal a few hands, too, if you will. If these men are staking all they have including their careers on the safe bet they can shut me down or shut me up then I'm gonna sit down at their table and address them
directly. Why the hell not? And I'm going to document what transpires. My friend Harry had two words for these men. but he
could never had sat at their table. Harry would have flipped the table cards, bills, deeds, watches, gold coins and all and I'll wager would have been arrested straight away. (To Be Continued...)

Suggested Listening: Along Comes Mary by The Association and Hallelujah by Leonard Cohen

From the book Renting Pews by JS Moore (Read it as it's written...)

09/01/2024

Snakes in the Grass by JS Moore and the Liar's Club (September 1, 2024) from the book Renting Pews (Read it as it is written...)

Rendezvous tradition, hubris in full display
of one man's own admission
almost extending an invitation.
Evil found as reprobates seated all in comfort within the room
Cleanse and disinfect these men whom ploy or plot our doom
Kinship formed by disarray, spreading seeds, if you may
as my heart bleeds but my soul is freed.
Oh, they scatter like roaches as the referee encroaches
Needless penalties with added luxuries
Imminence omnipotent yet assertive
No more superlatives like most dependable
Grass is high and a snake waits commendable...
culbertson.

I was fortunate to earn the friendship of a fine lawyer named Burkett McIntuff close to fifteen years ago. I find myself often seated at his desk. Like some placebo or even true blessing of the divine, I feel my best work is being captured and gifting me the words and moral fiber to face a multi-headed beast near Kingsport town here in Tennessee. Cthulhu perhaps but less Lovecraft and more hydra. Today a Mayor named Pat Shull is replaced by Paul Montgomery and the passing of the torch, if you will, burns down city hall even more quickly than some wild fire under Governor Newsome's or The Governator Ahnuld's purview. Yesterday morning, I decided to eavesdrop on a weekly meeting I've been aware of for some time between certain elected officials, attorneys, former police officers and just absolute cookie jar thieves serving their own self-interests and honor bound to one another or face the wrath of the self-appointed personalizaste in the Model City. Oh, and - almost the last to leave - Judge Jim Goodwin.

As for one of these other failed attorneys he is an older gentleman named Wayne whom took offense to my dear friend Lawyer McInturff not even giving him so much as a mention in his biography Picking Strawberries. Well, I must tell you my dear friend recognized people including peers or wanna-bees for exactly what they were and some of them were and are most definitely snakes in the grass. Wayne Culbertson, however, has always been one without teeth. Pro Bono, his own cat. would have testified to this.

He was first to exit this meeting room where Sunshine Laws in broad daylight have been broken now for years. He wouldn't even look in my direction. Of course not. Had I been there in early June then Jon Lundberg may have exited the room initially. I'd have to ask those witnesses to testify to that, but now I don't have to. I have exactly what I need. And if these individuals are ganging up on me, a father first and disabled veteran, but now to them some formidable threat of a bard telling of their conspiracies, then of course they aim to make me disappear - either in a jail cell or a shallow grave.

Suggested Listening: Today's the Day and Tin Man by America and Same Mountain Blues by Townes Van Zandt

"Snake Mountain Blues" from Townes Van Zandt's album Our Mother the MountainListen & Purchase: https://townesvanzandt.ffm.to/ourmotherthemountain.OYDLyrics: ...

08/29/2024

Interview with a Cattle Dog Part 2
by Wanell the Blue Heeler and JS Moore

Can you have pups?
I am a virgin. JS had me spayed after my 3rd heat, said this would lesson my chances for certain cancers. Although I have many male canine friends, boundaries are established. NO Golden Retriever or Giant Poodle can dominate me. I nipped that real quick, even snapped Murphy faster than a wink and he hasn’t tried that mount position since.
What is your job now?
JS is retired from the military with PTSD. I Am cofounder of a hiking group The Fjordtown Friars Fellowship. We currently have about 30 members. MY job in the home is security. IF JS stands up my job is to alert him by licking his fingertips. HE is a sleepwalker so I wake him or ensure he is conscious. ON a trail I also provide security, but really I am more a part of the squad, platoon, or family. I Circle the group on the trail and often count them by licking heels or hands. IF they walk 10 miles, I have easily done 30. But I am built for endurance. It is what I do.
(To Be Continued…)
Suggested Listening: Down Under by Men At Work
From the book Renting Pews by JS Moore. Read it as it's written on Facebook and Medium for exclusive content.

Men At Work's official HD music video for "Down Under"As featured on Contraband: The Best of Men At Work. Click to buy the track or album via iTunes: http://...

08/28/2024

I'll be posting an exclusive story to Medium .com. Look for it soon.

Read writing from Author JS Moore on Medium. Now forty one books published including Understanding Apples, Outside Kitty, Under the Sun: The Miyamoto Musashi Story, Haggard Harry and the Holy Grail, etc.

08/27/2024

Restarted writing and sharing on Medium if any of you are enjoying that platform, follow me there, too, for some exclusive content.

Growing up in eastern Tennessee then exploring the world in the military and later as a civilian now I try my able best to view the world…

08/26/2024

There Are Three / Part One by JS Moore and the Public Opinion
(from the book Renting Pews by JS Moore, August 26, 2024
-read it as it is written…)

Justice serves its master
Oppressing certain social classes
Ensnare, entrap, and cause disaster
Chaos courtrooms sentence the masses
In-so-much as they’ve crossed the line
Thrown into darkness, shackles and chains,
Intertwined, complicit, snipped from the vine
Zeniths stolen. treasures sprinkled with brine
Ensuring fear keeps them huddled and tame
No protest marches for they are quietly insane.

Suggested Listening: Hands to Heaven by Breathe

Music video by Breathe performing Hands To Heaven (Full Version).

08/24/2024

The Son is Not the Father by JS Moore and ____________ August 24, 2024 (Still in Editing phase)

(From the book The Ballads of Ballad: Lyrical Stories from the Appalachian Highlands and Renting Pews by JS Moore. Read it as it’s written. No Artificial
balderdash and bu****it. No Sweeteners.)

Are we too poor to pay attention
To finer details lost in time?

Are we missing a million dollar comma
With all the lightspeed blur and drama?
Is Leia or Padme Amidala
Our Grand Mother or our Royal Mama?

This is no galaxy far, far away
In the recesses of the sublime
Is it the elbow to the wrist?
Is it the measurement of your fist?
Is it almost the Golden Mean?
We lack experience. We are green.
But it is surely not the divine.
No hell no it is NOT the divine.
Is it a formula in your mind?
Would Dave Filoni
Think it’s bologna?
Let’s see.

Do you know Luke? Do you know Anakin?
Not from the Bible but George Lucas’ mind.
Let’s step away now from precious Star Wars
There are other examples to find.

Oh, the son is not the father
In this case or the next,
Woke on a plane over the ocean
Enroute to an island of illegal s*x.
Hungover headaches, poorly vexed.
Possibly hexed.

Childhoods taken, innocence stolen
Prince Andrews playground, Jeffrey’s toys
Was it just the little girls these sick men tasted
Or were there also little boys?

Leverage is an unkind es**rt
Both for Trump and Kennedy
Where did they meet, but in some sick circle
Jerks flock together – never free
Always the lesser wannabee.

Don is not Fred. Bob is not Robert.
One was dishonest to a fault,
But he had reserves and riches in his vault
And leverage was his key –
The slumlord aligned with all the right people –
Whom owned the drugstore and the steeple
Chasing hurdles no person could ever leap
Head south way down to Florida
Where the water is clear
But dark and deep.

The other man was ably honest,
I would say noble and almost pure.
And they’ll say no he had a mistress
But this did not outweigh his saintly virtues.
It did not come close to counting him out,
But he was killed in a hotel kitchen.
“Don’t lift me up, but carry me on, may words endure.”
He would not witness the halted movement.
Or ever listen to that one Marvin Gaye song.
What’s Going On? But for inaction
And for the Powers that Be and their satisfaction.
He was gone, yes, moved along.
But well deserved he’s still remembered
for impassioned vision –
And wisdom strong.

Are we too poor to pay attention
To finer details lost in time.
This is no galaxy far, far away
In the recesses of the sublime
It is the elbow to the wrist.
It’s the measurement of your fist.
It is almost the Golden Mean,
We lack experience. We are green.
But it is surely not the divine.
No hell no it is NOT the divine.

Do you know Luke? Do you know Anakin?
Not from the Bible but George Lucas’ mind.
Let’s step away now from precious Star Wars
There are other examples to find.

You’ll be the man – you’ll be remembered,
They told them both and made their offer.
One became President in twenty sixteen
With a promise to raid Saudis coffers

The other man – with a real legacy
Struck a deal no one saw coming
Or did someone with open eyes see?
No also duped until the announcement
Would shore up votes but make believe
Bob always was the anti-vaxxer.
Bob always was found in the ditches.
Bob always was a little whacky
Bob always mooched off family riches
Slept with well known bi***es,
But these were actual animals.
And he would deceive.
Plotted out to steal another election,
Wool over the eyes in every direction,
But a fatal flaw was easily missed.

Would Epstein resurface on them both?

Are we too poor to pay attention
To finer details. Have we been duped?
Are we too tired? Are we still groggy
From co***ne or**es. Are we just pooped?

Are we too poor to pay attention
To finer details lost in time.
This is no galaxy far, far away
In the recesses of the sublime
Is it the elbow to the wrist?
Is it the measurement of your fist?
Is it almost the Golden Mean?
We lack experience. We are green.
But it is surely not the divine.
No hell no it is NOT the divine.
Is it a formula in your mind?
Would Dave Filoni
Think it’s bologna?
Let’s see.
Are we too poor to pay attention
To finer details lost in time?

Are we missing a million dollar comma
With all the lightspeed blur and drama?
Is Leia or Padme Amidala
Our Grand Mother or our Royal Mama?

Suggested Listening: The Imperial March by John Williams and Whats Going On by Marvin Gaye

From the book The Ballads of Ballad Part Two: Lyrical Stories from the Appalachian Highlands and Renting Pews by JS Moore. Read it as it’s written. No Artificial
balderdash and bu****it. No Sweeteners.

“What’s Going On” (Deluxe Edition/50th Anniversary) Available Now!Listen Here: https://marvingaye.lnk.to/WhatsGoingOnDeluxe ‘What’s Going On Live’ Album Out...

08/22/2024

Part Three Coach Guy B. Crawford life story....
A wise man we will call Elder McInturff once said of the courtroom "Pay close attention to what is being said, but even closer attention to what is not."

The Buy In
The greatest fault is to imagine you have none.
-Murphy
You know, before he passed away, I had no clue whom Guy B. Crawford was until a man named Milhorn nudged me to search it up. He said Vince Staten had quickly backed off when he went to write an article about the coach. I kind of don’t blame him for backing off.
Are you bought in yet on Guy B. Crawford’s tale deserving further investigation? Well, let me explain to you what a BUY IN is when it comes to a poker game like Guy was a part of. This made their particular card sessions only available for the wealthy. Not to mention there were also lawyers, judges, merchants, and doctors seated at the table as well. Definitely there are many factors to consider if trying to discern whom had the most to gain if Coach Crawford was abruptly rendered lifeless.
Think about the coaching legends Crawford was coaching with and against: Buck Van Huss comes to mind, a true legend of his day. Then who were Crawford’s own inspirers – Bobby Dodd, Leroy Sprankle, Devault – it was a Who’s Who of influencers. These are only one or two off cameo appearances in Guy’s story however. Any way you look at it this was a complex time in this region. The chemical plant had exploded near the same time the coach had to change jobs an hour and a half drive from his Kingsport home where he had a family. The political tensions both locally and abroad were at a boiling point. The bay of Pigs and the Cuban Missile Crisis were a thing. There are so many things to factor into the story. His death might only be a small blip on the radar and could easily be buried among other headlines? Wrong. Citizens wanted to know what really happened and law enforcement had to appease the big money and influencers of every place Guy B. Crawford touched with his nearly magical card playing skills.
Have you figured it out yet? I’d like to tell you I have. I have probed and prodded and been told to leave a small locally owned restaurant in Morristown just by inquiring a little about Guy’s death and role as new high school coach of the high school in Morristown. This helped me to narrow it down. And after speaking to Marty Mullins at Wallace News before he passed, it only gave me a moment of clarity he also believed I was correct and his employee Troy Brown, too, for some reason agreed. But there is one person I still haven’t mentioned and rightly so. It’s a Kingsport person who was most definitely top dog when it came to underground or prohibited activities. I’m going to not mention him out of respect for his son’s reputation of philanthropy and the legacy he has gifted Kingsport, however, since it’s still only my suspicion the man was more than involved with the Cherokee Lake murder of coach Guy B. Crawford. Perplexed? Ask me sometime if you see me on the street and I will confirm or deny your suspicion who that very man is. He died in 1972 is all I will say. I have no doubt Morristown High School with Coach Guy B. Crawford at the helm would have won back to back championships in both baseball and basketball and undermined any chance of Kingsport winning against them. Crawford knew Chickenhawk better than anyone at the time. And Morristown High School’s track and field would also have benefited wonderfully with the addition of Guy as an assistant coach.
Suggested Listening: Poker Face by GaGa and The Gambler by Kenny Rogers

08/22/2024

Part Two for Guy's story.... technically it's part 3 since mor stories about him are in Mending Walls which was published in 2012.

Variables
Coach Crawford asked my dad if I would take the 8th grade over where I would have more time to grow. I was going to until he died.
-Ernie Horner
Now Guy B, like I wrote earlier, was a winner in every aspect. He took his teams to state in basketball and baseball, winning the state championship at least twice if memory serves me correctly. He was 341-73 at DB. State baseball champs in 1952. That’s pretty damn successful. But let’s share the narrative of those in law enforcement in Hawkins County, shall we? The long and the short of their narrative is: Coach Crawford had been playing cards and drinking at Lakemont just north of Mooresburg on Cherokee Lake with several men including Mooney Boyd of Rogersville. With $400 in his pocket after the game, Crawford, according to Dan Anderson, Hawkins County Sheriff at the time, was returning to Highway 11-W and mistakenly turned onto old 11-W which led straight into Cherokee Lake. His car sunk and Crawford drowned. However, his car keys were found not in the ignition but in his pocket The early conclusion that Crawford drove into the lake was plausible as the road leading from Lakemont to Highway 11-W forks. Rather than turning left, Crawford turned right at the fork onto old 11-W which then, as now, leads directly to the lake and is used as a boat launch..
How about that? Hmm… Cold case much? There are many, but Guy’s story shouldn’t end here, should it? The autopsy instantly cast doubt that Crawford’s ability to drive would be hindered as he wasn’t a big drinker at all, but there were many rich and powerful men all over the region whom owed the successful coach more than the four hundred dollars found in his pocket. His death remains a mystery some 60 plus years later.
So Hawkins County is sort of a neutral place when it comes to Guy B. Crawford. One of the pillars of Morristown was a man named Sonny Lee and his kin are still pillars of Hamblen County. Sullivan and Carter County had rich and influential people as well whom didn’t care for Guy’s skill at winning at cards. They did not like it at all and they mistook Guy’s confidence for arrogance and he most definitely made more enemies than friends in all those counties… a few in Hawkins as well, and maybe we’ll get to that, too. Just maybe.
This is a highly controversial death no doubt one book could be written on Guy’s life and death and would make a wonderful murder mystery film.
Crawford did not die by drowning as there was no water found in his lungs. His former assistant coach at Dobyns-Bennett was called from Kingsport to identify the body (Mrs. Crawford wouldn’t do it), and said his forehead had a large dent. Blunt force trauma. Did his head hit the steering wheel of was he clubbed to death?
The participants at the poker table that specific evening were a Who’s Who of Morristown deep pockets, one I mentioned before. Now the coach was fairly new to Morristown and coaching the high school there as after another loss of the state title for Kingsport pretty much politics in the Model City forced his resignation. Think about this, he wasn’t just a coach at the high school, but also taught classes like Physical education and Health. So he also impacted regular students and not just athletes. He was very well liked and respected as a teacher and a coach, He was a positive light and energy to anyone he encountered, save perhaps the other gamblers at the poker table. I have often wondered what John Greene may have thought about him, and Ed Taylor or Don Anderson, even Grant Hardin out of Elizabethton or Chris Tipton in Erwin, Tennessee. These were professional card sharps, sharks, and players.

Suggested Listening: Main Street by Bob Seger

08/22/2024

Remember Coach Guy B. Crawford? Here is his story.... feel free to share. There are other stories to follow....

The Red Bandana

Only when your consciousness is totally focused on the moment you are in can you receive whatever gift, lesson, or delight that moment has to offer.
Barbara de Angelis

There was this great baseball and basketball coach at Dobyns Bennett High School we’ll just call Guy. Now Guy grew up out past Fall Branch in the countryside and he was a tall natural athlete whom always found a way to win. Lose wasn’t in his vocabulary. He was actually recruited while in middle school to play for the Kingsport High School team and went there on a full scholarship in the mid to late 1940s. As an athlete he was the very best and he understood that offense and defense were equally important on either side of the court or field. He could walk, talk, dribble, run, and chew bubble gum in a span of a second and his confidence was sometime mistaken for arrogance.
Now as a coach on the basketball side of things he surrounded himself with a loyal cadre whom would follow his lead. This included a man called Chickenhawk, a very memorable mentor of a coach in his own right, but this story isn’t about the Chickenhawk but Guy, Coach Guy Crawford. If you will remember one thing about this special man it’s this: He should be the standard. Despite his one big flaw, he did not deserve what it is that brought about his demise. We’ll get to it. These things all happen a handful of years before President John F. Kennedy was shot and right around the time the Aniline Plant of Tennessee Eastman exploded in October of 1960 killing more than a dozen people and leaving an stigma and negative imprint on the community which made the citizens no longer trust the leadership in town nor the media. It’s really a blur to try and piece all these things together, until it refocuses and a moment of clarity hits the casual observer. Now that generation is almost gone now. There are a select few old people and perhaps guilty parties still living whom will not want this story told – not in the least. And their descendants may come out against it as well. So let’s get to it. Shall we? It was August of 1961 when they pulled his VW Beetle out of the lake. He was seated inside, his car keys mysteriously not in the vehicles ignition but in his front pant pocket…

Suggested Listening: A Fine Fine Day by Tony Carey

08/21/2024

A step back over a decade when I was first writing about one of Kingsport's finest characters Dr. Harry D. Bowyer... these were precious memories now and I am blessed to have known the man and written about his life in now five different books.... Haggard Harry and the Holy Grail, Haggard Harry and the Fisher King, Haggard Harry and the Bountiful Harvest, Haggard Harry and the Infernal Machine and Haggard Harry and the Three Monkeys.... now find that last book sandwiched in the pages of Shifting Cairns by JS Moore.... Miss you Harry.

Suggested Listening: Friends by Whodini