Preface--I told this story when I had the honor of speaking at my brother's funeral in 2016. Marvin Kyle Arnold is my brother and passed away around this time of the year. The 25th I do believe. Kyle is what everybody called him.
When I was in college , I had money cause I was going to school, working, and living at home. I wanted a jeep. My brother and I found a red Jeep that was all jacked up. Daddy disagreed with it. He was right. I spent money to fix and modify the old CJ5 and then would carry it out and tear it up. I havent had good experiences with Jeeps over the years and would see one riding down the road and yell "Sell it!" My dad and brother would get a kick from it. Kyle and I spent countless hours working on the old Jeep either customizing or repairing it . Finally Sold that jacked up Jeep years ago to Tommy( hope it wasnt the end of him). Now your up to speed.
I had a dream and I told the crowd it wasn't one of those weird dreams so don't be scared, haha. I was 20ish again. I was riding in the old jeep from Forest Home to Awin Alabama. I thought I was cool! haha I was making the turn off HWY. 10 headed toward Beatrice. I lost control of the Jeep and hit a old barn in the corner of the intersection (that building may have just been a dream as it was a dream.) Shortly there after my uncles Walter Arnold and Joe Arnold pulled up together. Uncle Walter shook his head and Uncle Joe mumbled and growled at me once they realized I was OK. We all began looking at the damage to the JEEP and the barn. My dad James Arnold and brother Kyle pulled up in the old white Ford F250. Daddy let out a couple of "NOT SO NICE" words. Kyle looked over in the back floorboard of the Jeep and there was a 6 pack of Beer. Kyle said "Ah HELL Boy" and grabbed the 6 pack and threw it in the woods as we knew the State Trooper would show up soon. I remember them all looking at me in disagreement as probably had happened previously. THEN I WOKE UP!!!
Not told the day of the funeral----I was upset enough I told my Mama, Geneva Arnold about the dream. For a minute, I was back there with them smelling the thick South Alabama air and can even remember the shorts n t-shirt I had on. It was raining that summer afternoon and I can feel the pavement under my feet as I barefoot.
Why do I tell this story at my brother's funeral? I continued the story that day.. I woke up and I was sad. I wanted to be with them for just another minute. They were all gone. I ended the story at the funeral by telling family and friends that hopefully these men were looking down on us, and if we lived right, hopefully we could be them one day in a better place. Mama is gone now as well. Maybe I can see them one day under better circumstances.
Kyle passed on the 1/25/16 which is why this is heavy on my mind. Thanks for making it this far into the read.
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