Camping With Henry (And Other Stories)

When I was a young man, I had friends named Ryan and Jordan. They lived across the street and Josh and I played with them relatively frequently. Their dad, Henry, is one of the best men I have ever known. He would occasionally take the four of us kids camping.

He would tell us stories as we lay in the tent. A few I remember in particular are a couple stories about Aesop (the back story, not the fables), and the story of Herkimer Hobart Boyer. I couldn't find his name on the interweb anywhere, which either means I don't know how to spell it or he made the story up.

Anyway, the story of H.H.B. is about a big Black man who was in Vietnam in a unit of mean white guys who terrorized him, but then later he threw himself on a grenade to save all of them.

So, I told Isaac this story a while ago in the car. At the end he said, "Dad, I want another story about Herkimer." I said, "There's only the one story. That's all there is."

Then Isaac said, "You should tell another one about Herkimer. Except in this one, he should get killed by a dragon."

So, I conclude that he totally understood the deeper message.