Slightly Off the Mark

A small town needs certain things to stay alive. A post office; a gas station; apparently a dollar store, considering they're springing up like Marvel movies. The one strange guy who walks around at night talking/singing to himself. One or two people who loudly complain about everything.

And a grocery store. My home town of Albion lost its grocery store, which isn't a huge deal compared to bigger problems, like the constant threat of the reality TV. Still, ghost towns across the country attest to what happens when a community's base disappears.

Most of us didn't know until after the store closed that the family that ran it for forty-some years were not the same people who owned the building. I didn't, even though I worked there when they took over from the former business owner.

I'm the cute one. Okay--I'm the one in the center.

Rumors ran rampant about what would happen to the former grocery store building. It was originally built by Vikings who wandered into the area around 1021 AD, so many thought the owners might tear it down, replacing it with, say, an airport. The site's right next to the railroad tracks, so no one would even notice the extra noise.

One rumor was that it would become one of those Dollar General Markets, a mini-grocery store where you could also buy everything from clothes to dolls to doll clothes. But there are already two dollar stores in town, built directly beside each other because that makes sense. Granted, they're on the other side of town from the old grocery store, but there's not that much town.

And then: Construction crews moved in and started overhauling the old building, top to bottom.

It's being done by Amish workers, the best builders in this part of the galactic arm. If you gave them a blueprint they could build a starship, even if their faith prevented them from piloting it.

So what will the new building be?

Nobody knows.

Oh, there are rumors, but for some reason no one involved is willing to tell. It's their choice, of course: It's private property. Still, it's quite the mystery: If you were going to open a business, wouldn't you want people to know what it will be? It's just ... strange.

So I declared on social media that it was going to be a Galactic Empire shooting range. Those storm troopers, they really need the practice. 

Maybe if they tried to, I don't know, aim.

 I quickly realized this is exactly why the new occupancy is so secret: Because it's secret. So I came up with some possibilities. If you know but can't say, blink your left eye three times.

* Nuclear waste transfer depot. This is where the waste is transferred from truck to train. I mean, the tracks are right there. We might not like the idea now, but I'm sure in no time we'll all be just glowing.

* Vice-Presidential Museum. Indiana has produced the second largest number of  U.S. Vice Presidents. Only New York has more, and they've been around for three decades longer. Part of S.R. 9, which runs through Albion, is officially The Highway of the Vice Presidents, as it connects some of their former homes. We're Number Two! 

* Big box store in a little box. Groceries upstairs, clothes in the basement, everything else on the roof. If you catch someone trying to shoplift a power tool, just shove them over the side. This one needs thought: I'll workshop it. 

* Experimental indoor farm.  Many towns don't allow farm animals because of the noise, and the smell. If the workers install soundproofing and a filtering system, we may be looking at the future of agriculture. Worried about cows contributing to climate change? No problem: Now all the animal farts are captured, and used to power the indoor field sunlamps.

You know, that started as a joke, but I think I might be on to something.

* CIA regional office. That explains everything. I mean, everything except why it would be in Albion. All I know is, ever since I started writing this there's been a black SUV with tinted windows parked across the street.

* Secret archeology site. Who knows what's under the ground there? A mastodon? Prehistoric giant skeletons? Godzilla's smaller cousin, Joezilla? There's a reason why Dr. Jones goes by "Indiana".

And finally:

*  Nuclear missile silo. Look on the bright side: If WWIII breaks out, we'll be the first to know.

I still like our little town.

Our books, many of them about small town life, area here: 

·        Amazon:  https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0058CL6OO

·        Barnes & Noble:  https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/"Mark R Hunter"

·        Goodreads:  https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4898846.Mark_R_Hunter

·        Blog: https://markrhunter.blogspot.com/

·        Website: http://www.markrhunter.com/

·        Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/ozma914/

·        Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/MarkRHunter914

·        Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/markrhunter/

·        Twitter: https://twitter.com/MarkRHunter

·        Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@MarkRHunter

·        Substack:  https://substack.com/@markrhunter

·        Tumblr:  https://www.tumblr.com/ozma914

·        Smashwords:  https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/ozma914

·        Audible: https://www.audible.com/search?searchAuthor=Mark+R.+Hunter&ref_pageloadid=4C1TS2KZGoOjloaJ&pf

I was busy killing Nazis when everything became perfectly still. Not a bird chirp, not a breath of wind. The light around me turned a strange green. Kind of like the olive-colored kitchen appliances that used to be so popular, and please don't build those again.

Everything seemed to almost glow from within. It was enough to make me forget Sgt. Rock and just stand there, gazing upward.

And that was it. The light turned normal again, and I headed into the barn to back up The Haunted Tank. We lived out in the country where we couldn't hear sirens, the TV was turned off, and portable alert devices were things I saw on Star Trek.

It was part of the 1974 Super Outbreak, one of the worst tornado outbreaks in history. 148 tornadoes rampaged across 13 states, killing 330 people. The one that came so close to me was an EF3, and it killed three people, injuring 38 more.

Somehow, I didn't find out until years later that a tornado has passed two miles from where I stood. 

The March 30 storm damaged the roofs of two Noble County Highway buildings, less than a mile from our home.

Maybe not knowing is why I became fascinated with the sky, but never developed a fear of storms. I'm one of those morons who would be out in the back yard, scanning the sky, while sane folks huddled in the basement.

Being a volunteer firefighter and storm spotter gave me an excuse, but didn't make me any smarter.

Either way, having the tornado sirens go off while you're standing in the shower is definitely attention grabbing.

I dressed in the basement, and the worst of it seemed to be over when I dashed through the rain to work. But it wasn't, for me: I work in the Noble County 911 center. There are normally two or three of us there. I arrived half an hour early and found one of my shift partners already there. Including a trainee, there were five of us, then six, and we were overwhelmed.

Our power went out twice; our radio system stopped working once; our business phone lines stayed down all night, leaving us with one backup cell phone. (Honestly, we used our own a lot.) Meanwhile, every fire department and every on-duty officer in the county raced from place to place, checking on damage and downed utility lines, clearing trees, and keeping their eyes on the skies. Between 4:40 and 8 p.m. we entered 76 calls, almost all for storm damage.

No injuries. The very definition of it could be worse.

I actually took this a few days earlier, but you get the idea.

In bordering LaGrange County the storm flipped an Amish buggy, killing one man. Meanwhile, not far to the north, an ice storm flattened northern lower Michigan. On the other end of the storm system ... a blizzard.

As I write this, we've just had still another tornado warning, thankfully short lived, and a tornado outbreak to the south and west of us ... and east, now that I've had time to check the weather channels.

I told someone over winter that I had a feeling this would be a bad weather year. Wish I remembered who, so I could say I told you so. But I'd rather be wrong.

This is another photo I took a few days earlier, right after a thunderstorm. I like this better.

You can read our books here:

·        Amazon:  https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0058CL6OO

Lately it's been much better to stay inside and read.

It can be nice to sit in our house and let the summer breeze blow past. Or, to get even more breeze, we could open the windows.

My house leaks like a Washington insider. Over the years we’ve stuffed cracks and other openings with anything we could find: towels, sandbags, small cars, door to door salesmen, whatever. A nice breeze isn’t what you want come November.

We don’t know exactly how old the place is, but Fred Markey carved the date 1879 into a garage wall. Is that when he was born? When he built the house? Or when he got cabin fever and went crazy with a knife?

(Note: I've learned he was 16 years old at the time. Who wasn't doing a little mischief at 16?)

The walls once held blown in insulation, but over time it settled, or possibly got carried off by mice. Now we have the annual, depressing, tradition called “winterizing”.

Okay, well, not so bad so far.

Winterizing reminds me that winter’s coming. Winter comes every year, usually in the fall. It’s like it’s seasonal, or something.

Hm … maybe that 1879 carving commemorated the winter they found Fred Markey frozen to the outhouse seat. It would be embarrassing to be frozen to indoor plumbing, so we winterize, starting with storm windows. Traditionally they’re installed just before an unusual warm front comes through, forcing you to decide whether to take them back down to let warm air in, or just curse the fates.

I also put plastic up on the inside of the windows. You put double sided tape around each window, then place the plastic on it, then curse and flounder as the tape falls off. Then you put the plastic on again and use a hair drier, which tightens it up so wrinkles don’t show. NOTE: This does not work on skin.

You can also use spray foam insulation and caulk, to seal cracks. The main purpose of these substances is to form permanent crusts on clothing. They’re also fairly effective at removing skin.

At some point, the furnace has to be started for the season. This is always a time of great interest in my house: I’m interested to know if it will start. I have hot water radiators, and the water is heated by a boiler. Me waving a match over a pilot light to start a boiler is akin to Wiley Coyote opening the latest package from Acme Co. You know something is going to happen; you just don’t know if the result will be ashes and singed hair, or a flattened body against the wall.

But I seriously considered doing none of that this year.

It's because of putting on the air conditioner cover. Not on myself. The polyvinyl cover has a couple of elastic strings attached to it. The instructions say to wrap the strings around the cover, hook them over the air conditioner, and voila—instant winterization.

Until the first time the wind blows.

Then you need duct tape. Rolls and rolls of duct tape.

This year I put the cover over the air conditioner, then waved for a truck to back in. I’d ordered a dump truck load of duct tape. They dumped it right into my driveway, and other than the dozen or so rolls that rolled down the hill out back (should have seen that coming), I was set.

I taped the cover to the conditioner. I taped the cover to the window. I taped the cover to the wall, the conditioner to the window, the wall to the conditioner, and I finished by taping the tape to the tape. There was now no sign of the green plastic cover. I might as well have skipped it and just made a duct-cover.

By then the sun had set on my duct tape paradise, so I did some winterizing inside, such as replacing the door-to-door salesmen in the cracks. The next morning we had some errands to run, so I pulled on my coat, walked out the door, and stepped on the air conditioner cover.

I took this picture while standing on my air conditioner cover. That is not normal.

Some of the tape was still on the cover.

Some of the tape was still on the wall.

But they were no longer connected to each other.

I said something then that I rarely say in public, and would be best off not repeating here. Then I stumbled back inside and collapsed on the couch, where my wife took in my red face and the steam coming from my ears, and tried to decide whether to dial 911.

And that’s why I’m considering giving up on the whole winterizing thing. What, I can’t build a fire in the bathtub and hover over it all winter? It probably worked for Fred Markey.

By the way, I’ve got some used duct tape for sale … cheap.

 At long last I can finally announce that we're finished with Haunted Noble County, Indiana!

I mean, of course, until I get edits back from the publisher. Emily finished her go-through, correcting all my small mistakes and showing me the big mistakes to correct. By the time you read this, our editor at The History Press will be shaking his head and muttering, "You had a whole year, and couldn't clean it up better than this?"

Well, I hope that's not what he's saying.

This is the longest it's ever taken me to write a book, with the exception of Smoky Days and Sleepless Nights. In both cases that includes long delays in which nothing got done at all. Not my fault! Mostly.

Then there were the pictures. We planned on about thirty, most taken by Emily and me; we turned in fifty.

Photography wasn't all that easy when John A. Harkless was doing it.

That's the tombstone of John A. Harkless, a photographer who should get his own credit in the book. For this book and for Images of America: Albion and Noble County, we depended on several local sources for historical photos. But most of the older photos, at least from the Albion area, originated with Harkless.

It wasn't unusual for us to find the same photo in more than one collection--sometimes from four or five sources. In that case, we credited the first place we found it. Often that was the Noble County Historical Society (which operates the Old Jail Museum), or the collections of Mike Mapes and Grace Leatherman, or the Stone's Trace Historical Society.

The funny thing is that Haunted Noble County, Indiana isn't an historical book, really. It's supposed to be about ghosts and haunted places, and that means places that are haunted today, doesn't it? But I love to research, and I love history. Whenever we encountered a local ghost story I couldn't help thinking: What events let to a spirit hanging around? How long have they been there? What was the place like when they were alive?

We found this photo of the Wolf Lake Onion Parade in three places, although first through the Noble County Historical Society.

Well, if you love researching, and you get a chance to research, what happens? That's right: rabbit hole. A lot of rabbit holes.

It's not the only thing that delayed the project, of course. I've mentioned before our visit from COVID, which overstayed its welcome. We got so delayed that when I finally saw the finish line, I realized I had to make a dash to reach it. Or, to put it another way, the deadline was approaching like Godzilla on a bender.

This photo was in Mike Mapes' massive collection. (Just to clarify, none of the photos in this blog are in the book--they're just examples of what great history people have preserved.)

So once again--I said the same thing in May--sorry to anyone I didn't reconnect with before it was too late. Also, thank you to those I did connect with, and there were many, and thank you again for all those history buffs who helped lead me down those various rabbit holes. Sometimes I ended up in areas that didn't add to this project, but that doesn't mean they weren't fun.

The Stone's Trace Historical Society had this photo of downtown Ligonier.

And when will the results of our hard work be revealed to the world? Well ... I did mention that we missed deadlines, right? Our editor was very understanding, but the world of traditional publishing plods on like an old plow horse, and I wouldn't expect to see it before the spring of 2025--maybe later. I'll keep you updated.

• Amazon:  https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0058CL6OO
• Barnes & Noble:  https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/"Mark R Hunter"
• Goodreads:  https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4898846.Mark_R_Hunter
• Blog: https://markrhunter.blogspot.com/
• Website: http://www.markrhunter.com/
• Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/ozma914/
• Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/MarkRHunter914
• Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/markrhunter/
• Twitter: https://twitter.com/MarkRHunter
• Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@MarkRHunter
• Substack:  https://substack.com/@markrhunter
• Tumblr:  https://www.tumblr.com/ozma914
• Smashwords:  https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/ozma914

Remember: Every time you read a book, an ancestor smiles in their grave. Which is actually kind of scary.

 I realized while going through old blogs that I write about winter way more often than summer. Like most humor writers, my work is usually about stuff I'd be complaining about anyway, so there you go. But after our two hour air conditioner home maintenance job last week I wanted to complain about summer a bit, so I dredged up this 2016 blog I wrote after helping my in-laws move in southeast Missouri ... in July.

They had to get moved faster than planned, after a car crashed into their old home. For one thing, the bedroom was now the width of a bathtub. It had huge holes in the former walls ... and Missouri mosquitos can punch through walls without help. And finally, the electricity had to be cut off to the home. See above about southeast Missouri—in July.

Here's the difference between that area and where I live, in northeast Indiana. Hoosier weather gets just as hot and humid ... from time to time. It seems like our heat waves last forever, but in reality they rarely go more than a few days. (This week excepted.) In Missouri the humidity pops up to 114% in May, and the temperature doesn't drop below 90 until October. Yes, the humidity's actually more than 100%. It’s a head-scratcher, or maybe that’s the mosquitos.
 

Flowers still came out in the morning, but in the afternoon they burst into flames.

Reel-mounted fire extinguishers were mounted by each mailbox, in case the postal delivery arrived in flames.

In the end it was worth it. The in-laws had a nice little place, we visited with some friends, and after regaining consciousness we even got to do some traveling. There's something to be said for helping people out. If I could, I'd go back down there and embrace the whole community with a great big, loving cloud of DDT.

It would still be hot, though.

• Amazon:  https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0058CL6OO
• Barnes & Noble:  https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/"Mark R Hunter"
• Goodreads:  https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4898846.Mark_R_Hunter
• Blog: https://markrhunter.blogspot.com/
• Website: http://www.markrhunter.com/
• Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/ozma914/
• Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/MarkRHunter914
• Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/markrhunter/
• Twitter: https://twitter.com/MarkRHunter
• Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@MarkRHunter
• Substack:  https://substack.com/@markrhunter
• Tumblr:  https://www.tumblr.com/ozma914

Remember to check your back seat for kids, pets, and ghosts.
 

The Hoosiers is in no way related to our book Hoosier Hysterical, being separated by a century or so and a barrel of laughs. (That is, the one I wrote is a barrel of laughs. Well, I like to think so.)

Some books I recommend despite knowing most of my readers won't be interested. So it is with this centennial edition of The Hoosiers, which came out in 1915, a year before Indiana's hundredth birthday. My wife's bosses loaned me this original copy, which I'd imagine is pretty rare. I even avoided eating and drinking while leafing through the delicate pages.

Much to my surprise, The Hoosiers is available on Amazon.

https://www.amazon.com/Hoosiers-Centennial-Meredith-Nicholson/dp/B00FDZ0EB2

I don't expect it'll get a lot of sales there, but it had several reprints back in the day. Although Nicholson covers the basics of Indiana history, its main focus is the arts: Nicholson goes into detail about early Indiana writers, poets, and occasionally painters, as well as other notable Hoosiers of what was then the olden days (and today is twice as olden).

Some of the notables and their products from back then might be recognizable to today's Indianians (as Nicholson puts it, despite the book's title). She also goes over other groups that brought "cultivation" to Indiana, including religious leaders, lawyers and politicians, and those involved in what would then have been the relatively recent Civil War.

Together those notables are woven together into a look at what Indiana was when first formed, and also what it became by the time of the book's writing. From that standpoint it can be interesting, considering how much things changed in the previous and following centuries.

Just the same, I can't recommend the book unless you're really invested in the minutia of Indiana history. I found it easier to read than I'd expected, and fascinating, but I can't stress enough how much it appeals to a very limited readership.

If you'd like to browse Indiana history in a somewhat lighter way, well ... you know where I'd send you.

• Amazon:  https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0058CL6OO
• Barnes & Noble:  https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/"Mark R Hunter"
• Goodreads:  https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4898846.Mark_R_Hunter
• Blog: https://markrhunter.blogspot.com/
• Website: http://www.markrhunter.com/
• Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/ozma914/
• Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/MarkRHunter914
• Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/markrhunter/
• Twitter: https://twitter.com/MarkRHunter
• Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@MarkRHunter
• Substack:  https://substack.com/@markrhunter
• Tumblr:  https://www.tumblr.com/ozma914

 When I complained to my surgeon that I was still having symptoms of sinus problems, he stuck a big metal tube up my nostril and worked it around for half an hour. Then he stuck it up my other nostril.

And now I no longer complain to my sinus surgeon--about anything.

Then he asked me how long it's been since I was allergy tested. It turns out people with allergies should be tested every few years or so, because in some cases allergies come and go, such as when you get older and your body starts to break down. Not that I'm describing me. Nope.

It had been ten years, so the next week they used up their entire supply of needles on me. If something swelled up and turned red, it wasn't a rebellious pimple: It was Mother Nature thumbing her nose.

Mother Nature has a big nose.

My entire arm, upper and lower, looked like a Braille dictionary. I was allergic to everything on Earth, half of everything on the Moon, and dust from Mars.

Okay, so that wasn't really true. For instance, I'm not allergic to Timothy Grass, who I'm fairly sure is the lead singer for Three Dog Night. Much to my shock, I'm not allergic to ragweed. Also, although I once had an allergic reaction after fighting a fire in a pine woods, I'm not allergic to pine. There must have been some cottonwood, birch, ash, red cedar, walnut, oak or hickory among those burning pines.

My cat allergy was confirmed, but--surprise!--I'm no longer allergic to dogs. We still aren't getting another one, though: We had the perfect dog for a decade, and he's not so easily replaceable.

Beowulf was very cuddly, and it turns out he never got his dander up.

Otherwise it was all the usual: molds, grasses, dust, politicians, and those dirty, nasty bed mites, which are much like politicians but with higher morals. Plants? Russian Thistle, English Plantain, Bermuda Grass--none a problem as long as I stay here in the good old USA.

Now, all but two of these tested at a "moderate" level. Only two read as severe and one of those was, naturally, Aspergillus, which can cause infections all over the place--including the sinuses.

It's a mold, which is a type of fungus, and (I learned) it can be really, really nasty. Being allergic to Aspergillus is like being especially susceptible to the Black Death.

Then came the real shock, and the second allergy testing at the "severe" level:

Horses.

If you know my wife, you get why hearing that was like being ... well, kicked by a horse.

An entire horse-sized battlefield, loaded with Mark-seeking guided dander.

Wait--she's wearing my hat!

And what are we going to do about this? Well ... nothing. I mean, sure, Emily will clean up as soon as she gets home, but it's not like I'm going to demand she gives up horses. It would be like telling me to give up chocolate, something I'm NOT allergic to. You gotta do what you love.

As for me, I have to choose between allergy shots and trying to get rid of mold like Penicillium, Eicoccum, and that wonderful Asperigillus, all of which can be found on ...

Books.

Guess I'll take the shots.

Hey ... are those books on my dusty carpet?

• Amazon:  https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0058CL6OO
• Barnes & Noble:  https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/"Mark R Hunter"
• Goodreads:  https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4898846.Mark_R_Hunter
• Blog: https://markrhunter.blogspot.com/
• Website: http://www.markrhunter.com/
• Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/ozma914/
• Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/MarkRHunter914
• Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/markrhunter/
• Twitter: https://twitter.com/MarkRHunter
• Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@MarkRHunter
• Substack:  https://substack.com/@markrhunter
• Tumblr:  https://www.tumblr.com/ozma914

Remember: Every time you don’t buy a book, I start sneezing. Save my sinuses.

 A few thoughts on our upcoming book project, which is tentatively titled Spooky Noble County, or: Hoosier Ya' Gonna Call?

(Kidding! I'm just calling it Haunted Noble County, although History Press may have something to say about that.)

I'll probably cut down to posting one blog a week, for now. I post based on my work schedule, which amounted to one on the weekend, one the next Wednesday or so, one the next Monday or so; repeat. Luckily I have some good blogs already written and waiting, along with some bad blogs. That'll give me more time for research and writing, plus in September I'll be on vacation, which will make things complicated.

I just realized I'm doing vacations wrong: They're supposed to be less complicated.

This is what a less complicated vacation looks like.

Emily and I want to tour around Noble County, looking for spooky/haunted things/places to take pictures of. If a ghost shows up, that's just gravy.

By the way, I knew about Spook Hill, although I haven't been there for many years; I also knew about Sand Hill, which is the second highest hill in Indiana. What I didn't know is that the Spook Hill Cemetery (that's not its real name) is actually ON Sand Hill.

Emily wanted to know who determined these things. Did they count the Indiana Dunes? How about Brown County? I assured her surveyors have pretty good rulers, although climbing up three feet at a time can be a pain.

Anyway, we'll use two cameras: The newer one, called the Blue Camera, has better pixel thingies, for photos so sharp you'll need bandages. The older one, called the Black Camera, can switch from automatic to manual for more creative photography.

The black camera looks something like this one. You know: black.

Sadly, I had neither with me when I spotted what I thought would be perfect for a book cover:

Isn't it cool? I KNOW! But it was an off the cuff picture snapped with my cell phone, and cuff photos often don't cut it. So every time there's a storm forecast I'm going to stand in the same spot with the blue camera (it's waterproof) and wait for my chance. Or maybe I'll get lucky and someone will donate an historical photo that's better.

Meanwhile I have a list of people to talk to now, and tales of haunted places around the county I didn't know about. I intend to do the bulk of the interviewing and researching in September ... we'll see. But I have deadlines now, so I can't slack off.

I mean, I can ... but Emily recently bought a whip, and the more she practices, the more nervous I get.

By the way, while this process is going on you're all welcome to check out our previous historical books, or humor books, or fiction, or, by gosh, anything else you want, 'cause this is America! Remember, writers live on reviews, purchases, and coffee ... and I don't drink coffee, so don't let me metaphorically starve.

• Amazon:  https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0058CL6OO
• Barnes & Noble:  https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/"Mark R Hunter"
• Goodreads:  https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4898846.Mark_R_Hunter
• Blog: https://markrhunter.blogspot.com/
• Website: http://www.markrhunter.com/
• Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/ozma914/
• Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/MarkRHunter914
• Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/markrhunter/
• Twitter: https://twitter.com/MarkRHunter
• Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@MarkRHunter
• Substack:  https://substack.com/@markrhunter