Marshall Ramsey

“Dad, is it the end of the world?”

“Why?” I replied, “Did your mom just find out you didn’t clean your room like she asked?”

“Seriously, dad.  You know, the Mayan’s prediction and what’s going on in the Middle East.”

I thought for a second and realized we were headed into serious territory. I remember me being terrified of nuclear war and killer bees as a child.  Then I thought about the end-times documentary I watched on Netflix. And I thought about the news coming out of the Middle East these days.  I answered as honestly as I could, “I honestly don’t know, buddy. The news is scary.  But that’s really nothing new. Think how scary it was when your grandparents were your age. They had World War II. But we can’t be scared about something we have no control over.  We just have to live our lives to the fullest every single day we are given.”

My son looked at me and said, “My friends don’t believe you are a cancer survivor.”

I was a little humored that it had come up in discussion on the playground, but then said, “I can come to show-and-tell and take off my shirt if that would help.”

“Nah, that’s OK. You know how pirates pooped on a pirate ship?”

“Hopefully not in their pants.”

We laughed and then he explained how pirates went to the bathroom on a pirate ship.

Michael Dowda, a Parchman escapee, is lose, armed and dangerous. His odyssey reminds me of a time many years ago when I was a student at Bells Ferry Elementary School. It was a time when our school was locked down because of an escaped prisoner.

The prisoner was getting dental work done and overpowered the guard. He stole his gun and ran to the house behind the clinic. There, a man opened the door and the prisoner shot him in the face, killing him.

Our community promptly went into lockdown as the police began their manhunt.

If I had looked out the windows, I would have seen policemen guarding the school.  When the buses finally did roll, we were followed home by patrol cars.  Bloodhounds went down the road behind our house.  The criminal, who stayed fairly close to where the murder occurred, tried to break into my dad’s gas station’s bathroom.  And he was finally captured in a dumpster behind a local shoe store.

I think we held our breath for 24 hours.

I was probably eight.  Yet, I remember it like yesterday.   Hopefully Dowda will be recaptured soon — especially before anyone suffers the same fate as the man who was shot that fateful day in Marietta, Georgia.

UPDATE: Dowda has been captured in Macon, Georgia. Thankfully.