Marshall Ramsey

The old pilot had logged several losses into his life’s log book. He lost his best friend and wingman in Vietnam. He lost his temper when he came back home and was spit on by protestors in the San Francisco airport. He lost his wife Angie due to his neglect and then her cancer. He lost his son because of pride. 

With every loss, he gained a demon. 

He chased those demons around the sky and tempted death for years in his yellow crop duster. His trusty Air Tractor, named Angie, allowed him to flirt with suicide for three decades. That had changed when he found his lost granddaughter, who had wandered off into the brush of Mississippi Delta. His ability to fly low and slow permitted him to spot the girl. That one moment healed the gaping wound between him and his son. The little girl, also named Angie, gave the old pilot a reason to live. That reason was tested when he crashed his plane and died. His wife Angie’s spirit came to him in the crumpled cockpit and convinced him to go back. When rescuers cut him out of the plane and restarted his heart, tears flowed down his cheeks as he muttered, “Angie.” While he had lost Angie once again, he realized something profound: 

She was right there with him all along. 

Frost painted the plowed fields of the Mississippi Delta a silvery white. Ice crystals sparkled in the early morning sunrise, looking like diamonds on the deep, rich soil. He looked east towards the bluff and watched as the sun rose slowly in the sky. Holding his cane (he has lost part of his right leg in the crash and was still getting used to his prosthesis), he limped to the mailbox to check to mail a couple of bills. Nearly 80, he still wrote checks, a habit that annoyed most of the people in the grocery line. They could wait, though. Life had gotten too fast already. He had nowhere to go now but into the ground. 

It had been 16 years since the crash. Getting back up in the air this time was harder. In Vietnam, when his A-1 Skyraider had taken enemy fire and crashed, he had had to shoot two men before he was finally rescued. He knew he had killed before but this time, it was up close and personal. The old pilot had also caused others to lose, too. Thoughts of that day in 1969 still rattled in his head. But he immediately got back into the cockpit. This time, it took courage to get him in the air again. While he wasn’t necessarily religious, the old pilot definitely was a man of faith. Angie had converted him that day in his crumpled Air Tractor. She had shown him the power of love and forgiveness. 

A car drove down the dirt road, kicking up a hurricane of dust behind it. The old pilot recognized the car and wished he could dive into a ditch. It was Mrs. Kylie, his neighbor. “What does she want?” He thought. 

The white Buick stopped in front of the mailbox and Mrs. Kylie rolled down her window. “I heard your bad news.” One thing about the Delta, there wasn’t six degrees of separation, there were two. That meant people knew your business before you did. 

The old pilot grunted. 

“I am sure the doctors will be able to cure it.” 

The old pilot grunted again. 

“I’ll be praying for you.” 

The old pilot yet grunted again and said, “Thank you,” as Mrs. Kylie drove away in another cloud of dust. 

The old pilot looked to his right and said to an empty space, “Do you think I handled that OK? Really? Thanks. Yeah, I guess I am starting to grow up after eight decades.” Then he laughed. While he was grateful for the prayers, Angie taught him this: Instead of just praying, be the answer to other people’s prayers. So that’s what he did. And that’s when he started to truly live. 

He pulled a letter out of his mailbox. It was from his granddaughter. She wrote him every week. As he peered down over his glasses, he read about her adventures in college and in the air. He had saved her when she was a toddler. He had taught her to read. He had taught her to fly. After years of chasing death around the sky, she had taught him to chase life. 

He looked over by the giant oak trees and saw his wife’s spirit blowing him a kiss. She then faded away, like the melting frost in the warm morning sun.

Lying in bed with the flu, Santa knew there was only one way Christmas could be saved. He dialed his phone and heard a heroic voice answer, “Banjo’s Air Service, how may we help?”

Thursday, December 5 — Kademi (Philadelphia, MS) 4-7 p.m.
Saturday, December 7 — Pearl Jinglebell Marketplace (Muse Center) 9 a.m.-4 p.m.
Sunday, December 8 — Book Mart & Cafe (Starkville), 11-3 p.m.
Tuesday, December 10 — Crooked Letter Books (Meridian) 5 p.m.-7 p.m.
Thursday, December 12 — Southern Turnings, (Wiggins) 2 p.m. — 5 p.m.
Sunday, December 14 — Mississippi Gift Company (Greenwood) 10:30 a.m. to 3:30 p.m.
Friday, December 20 — Lemuria (Jackson) 12 p.m. — 1 p.m.
Saturday, December 21 — Lemuria (Jackson) 1 p.m. — 2 p.m.

Stay tuned for additions to this schedule

Saving Sam! A Banjo the Dog Story debuts September 14, 2024 at the Mississippi Book Festival (and will be part of the MS Book Festical’s literacy efforts, which are sponsored by ATMOS energy.).

About the book: Banjo, the little brown dog who could, is back — this time on a mission to find his missing friend Sam. With the help of his niece Pip (and a giant new friend too), Banjo battles evil squirrels and discovers the power of friendship, teamwork, and courage. Award-winning cartoonist Marshall Ramsey brings to life an action-packed and heartwarming tale that reminds Banjo — and kids of every age — that families come in all shapes and sizes.

You can preorder at:

Square Books in Oxford. Click here.

Lemuria Books in Jackson. Click here.