Daily journal May 28, 2001, Finster Folk Art Fest, Pennville, Georgia, Memorial Day.

Early on the morning of May 19th I went to Atlanta and North to Summerville Georgia in the many thunder storms and serious lightning strikes and finally very heavy hail like that never have I seen before fell on my car and I feared my windshield would be broken out even standing still in the road with ice crashing and no one could see to drive near Rome Georgia. Arriving at the gate of Paradise Park in the tiny mill town with narrow streets where 100 Artist were set out to show their work under tents along the paths and trails of the Finster Paradise personalized park and church tower. Howard was on the front porch at the back of the park, as always a long line of people were waiting to get his autograph. He was looking weak and frail. I may not have known him. I decided on the way down that I would paint a picture of him on his throne as the king of Folk Art as he is so often called. I appreciate a minister of the gospel taking up the brush as he did to paint the Word of God plainly in a certain mosaic style, the world is looking for his work. One statement he made to me over 2 years ago during the one conversation I had with him at Tuscaloosa, Alabama, "I began to paint when no one listened to me preach any more". Lamentations 3-2 “He hath led me and brought me into darkness, but not into light”. With all the delays due to the bad weather in coming here after 6 hours of driving, my friends from out of state had already left to go to their mountain top retreat and no one knew their name. My mobile phone did not work in this area so all is lost and I had a feeling of hopelessness as night fell wondering what I could have done to have arrived on time and made my contact and not have been left behind. My friend and I got directions to the mountaintop and had a rainy dinner at the Lookout Mountain Restaurant before he departed for home in all the heavy rain and blinding fog. A couple at the cabins 10 miles North along the ridge were kind enough to call every hotel in the area, even in Alabama, except the one hotel where my friends were registered right across the street from where they booked me at the old historic hotel bed and breakfast. As I drove into the yard my phone rang and my friends had located me and I was delighted. They came for me and took me to the mountains edge where a well-known collector lived and the party was on. Never lose faith to know that God is with us and He is sure looking out for our very best interest. I was in the company of great friends and many that I had never met before as we shared this experience related to the awesome power of that of visual art. To know the Lord is to serve Him with a whole heart. I thank the Lord for finding my way in spite of the difficulty at the last minute. I thank the Lord also for finding the Mentone Springs Hotel Bed and Breakfast and to explore the history seen on a beautiful hill overlooking the terrain with tapestry hanging and many stories of old times in this rare and beautiful place. It was very clean and comfortable and operated by a wonderful couple who was available for every thing needed. We had stayed at the Fest although there were certain stress from not making contact with my host. At 5:00 sharp, Finster departed in a black hearse with the bells and siren a blasting among the decorations of artificial human head with hair waving. With roasted corn being served and Pepsi-Cola to wash down the hot dogs and hamburgers that most people were making good use of. This was surely a true American modern festival in spite of the intermittent rain. People were in abundance here paying $5 to get in. I do not like the site of folk art as a rule I know little about art. By now I've been exposed to a lot of it and some I consider good, lots of it denotes evil. I cannot help but grieve as a slow replay of the past is playing back to me nonstop now.