El Cajon, CA
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Articles by Dean Kellio

The alarm hadn’t gone off yet but I got up anyway and blindly walked down the hallway towards the kitchen. In the early morning darkness I managed to step on my kitten’s tail, bump into some pictures hanging on the wall and catch my little toe on the edge of a door. After pouring some water, grinding coffee beans and a couple colorful metaphors I readied my worn-out coffee pot for its daily duty.

City leaders pass ordinance prohibiting the distribution of food to homeless on public property. It would seem El Cajon’s solution to reducing their homeless population is to stop feeding them.

Our family grew this year with the addition of a new daughter and our first born grandson. The Lord is good and this Thanksgiving was a reminder of just how good He really is. Our table was packed full of a variety of foods whose presentation mesmerized our senses. We welcomed a slight winter’s chill by after enduring a ninety-six degree Thanksgiving Day.

Jason patiently waited for several cars to pull out of the row where he had spotted an empty parking space. As he slowly approached another driver pulled up at the same time wanting to park. Jason cheerfully smiled and waved to the other driver to take the space then continued just a short distance to another empty spot. 

Walls are everywhere. They separate apartment units, hold up roofs and even allow the winning run to score as homerun balls sail over them. Walls keep out loud freeway noise from disturbing others living in the houses that were built near them. They also keep people out of dangerous areas like airports, gun ranges and active volcanoes while keeping violent, dangerous criminals separated from the general public. 

The list grows longer every day. In fact the list is now so long that I need to write it down on something but I’ll have to put that on the list as well. I’m not sure when the list was born, maybe sometime in the late nineteen eighties, I think? But today the list has grown into a famished monster that keeps devouring my time bite by bite.

Paul left Caesarea in chains with one hundred and twenty-five other prisoners. The storm season was approaching as the hot summer temperatures had vanished allowing cooler air to flow into the area from the north. As they boarded the tall wooden ship bound for Italy the captain knew they would be sailing on the cusp of possible bad weather. With a crew of fifty and one hundred Roman soldiers aboard the total human compliment was two hundred and seventy-five.

Donny carefully slid out of the kayak and into the deep blue waters of the pacific. The water was cool at first but soon warmed as he dipped his mask into the water for a look at the reef. Donny and Jane had paddled over to the north end of Kealakekua Bay just to the left of the white monument that had been constructed to remember the spot where Captain Cook was murdered.

I wanted to see into the Kilauea caldera so off we went. We walked for miles across the old caldera floor that was completely void of all plant life. It was like walking on new earth in a primordial time when God was first creating. We found ourselves having to jump over large cracks, bubbles and broken lava tubes. This desolate landscape was leading to a new erupting vent that was now only a fraction of the size of the Kilauea caldera that we were walking across.

The morning air was sweet smelling filled with the aroma of saw grass as I stepped out of the car and into the path of several Nenes. We had made it our goal to get up early and into the park before hordes of other people who were packed into tour busses like sardines in a tin can showed up. Mornings are the best time to do anything around Volcano, Hawaii as the sun is warm and shining through a partially clouded sky.