Very early in my life, when I was before the age of episodic memories, my parents had moved from New Orleans, the city of my birth, and traveled to where my dad had been hired for his first job after graduation from Tulane University.

We were a family of four, my parents, my older brother Fred and myself, the youngest. We arrived in the panhandle of Texas sometime after I became two years old and remained here for at least one year, possibly two before my dad was reassigned to the coast of Texas.

After driving much of the day, I arrive in Borger, Texas and while entering town, I come upon a mural done as if greeting any and all would would arrive in town along my route. I stop and talk a photo of the artwork.

Awake, arise, pull down the window shades, and I see out in the distance a refinery of such. Immediately, methinks, is the where my Dad worked when our family lived here in Borger, Texas?

I find out later that this is not the Phillips 66 Refinery, but another one that has since been built in this area.

Next, I drive back to town, then south until I find Huber Park, pull in and connect my electrical cord to begin charging my batteries. While my batteries are on the charger, I work on my computer, pounding keys and updating many of my web pages.