Bloom Where You Are Planted

This blog was created March 11, 2015. The contents of this blog contain correspondence between Chuckwa Don Crabtree and Gina Gillispie.

Although the two have never met, they became friends via mail when Gina, editor of an online news site, first reported Chuckwa's story.

When Gina saw his arrest photo, there was something that tugged at her to believe this person had a story to tell.

She mailed her first letter September 7, 2012 and they have been writing ever since.

After several years, Chuckwa decided he wanted to begin to tell his life story and send a message of hope to those who still have choices to make...his goal is to spend his time doing good things and good work right where he is....

Chuckwa has decided...to bloom where he is planted.

The posts that you will read will be a mix of old letters, stories about his everyday life in the James V. Allred Unit in Iowa Park, Texas and stories from his boyhood growing up along the creek in Palo Pinto County, Texas.

He signs his letters...."The Callisburg Kid"

Tuesday, March 31, 2015

APRICOT BRANDY

In one of our first letters to each other all those days ago, there is one thing I have never forgotten--

Chuckwa told me that when he was a little boy, he almost died of alcohol poisoning.
My husband's Babboo, lost a 2 year old child when he drank some garage chemical that had been put in a strawberry soda pop bottle.

 Across the United States, around 800,000 kids are rushed to the emergency room each year because of accidental poisoning. Of these, around 30 children will die, according to the Consumer Product Safety Commission.


When I asked Miss Diane about this event in her son's life, this was her reply to me

"Good morning Gina--yes I remember.   I used to clean houses for ladies and one day, it was around Christmas, I was supposed to clean a house, but I had a horrible migraine.   I used to have them a lot but I don't anymore.   

The money I made cleaning houses I would give to Chuckwa and his brother Chris.  Most of it to ride their horses or bikes to the store in Callisburg to buy candy and soda pops.  We were poor but we were happy and God always saw to it that we had what we needed...the animals ate before we did.


Anyway I sent Chuckwa to clean the house.   He has always been a good cleaner like me...it's a blessing.   He found a fifth of apricot brandy and he drank the whole thing.  (Chuckwa told me in his letter that he drank it because it tasted to good to him).

We had to take him to the emergency room  because he was way over the limit, nearly a 3% BAC.  They kept him on the heart machine for a good while and maybe overnight.  He can't stand apricots now! 

That was when he was about 12 years old or so he hadn't started messing with alcohol before that and didn't again until he was a little older." 





Chuckwa could have and should have died that day
but he didn't
no
when God recorded that day in Chuckwa's life it wasn't his last day

do you believe that it's possible that some people are imprisoned
FOR PREACHING
and some people are imprisoned
TO PREACH
?

as I have grown to know Chuckwa over the past couple of years
--even though he has made some life altering mistakes--
I have grown to admire him and have a great respect for
what he is doing in the place God wrote in his life story....
while it was just the two of them...
in utter seclusion


You made all the delicate, inner parts of my body and knit me together in my mother's womb. Thank you for making me so wonderfully complex! Your workmanship is marvelous — how well I know it. You watched me as I was being formed in utter seclusion, as I was woven together in the womb. You saw me before I was born. Every day of my life was recorded in your book. Every moment laid out before a single day had passed (Psalm 139:13-16 NLT).

Tuesday, March 24, 2015

YOU ARE WHO YOU WERE


....WHEN YOU WERE 8

what happens then?

“When a young child enters 2nd grade, I am able to tell which ones will succeed and which ones will fail….and which ones are very likely to end up in prison.”  Mr. Allen Alford, Principal Spearman Elementary, 1990.

Chuckwa loved his horse Stranger and country music

"I'm sittin' here right now hopin' Country Legends comes on tonight.  I'ts 8 PM, that's what time it usually comes on.  I like old country music.  I remember when I was about 3 or 4, I had to stay with my grandpa for a week or so and at night he'd leave his little radio playin' real soft and old country music was what was playin'.  I can almost hear it now."

So.....what happens that an innocent, perfect creature, coon dog-horse-little brother-mom and dad loving boy....meets a fork in the road?

In his own words to me…it was one thing and one thing only… alcohol.
Alcohol set him on a path that was not initially intended for him and ultimately caused his demise.   But demise is not the end of his story…in the end, Chuckwa will live in victory.
I believe...
you are who you were...when you were 
8

**Chuckwa's fork in the road is still down the way....aren't you sure in your heart, that if he knew he was about to meet it...he would have ridden his pony the other direction?



Men 1,463,454
Women  111,287
(via the U.S. Department of Justice Office of Justice Programs  Bureau of Justice Statistics 2001- 2013)


I asked Chuckwa long ago, “what if our prisons became full of mighty men of God, 
and you had the power to be part of that?”

Psalm 37:23-24  If the Lord delights in a man's way, He makes his steps firm; though he stumble, he will not fall, for the Lord upholds him with His hand.

Wednesday, March 18, 2015

BLUE TICK COON HOUND


I was born in Palo Pinto, Texas, to Jimmie and Diane Crabtree, living the 1st three years of my life in Perrin, Texas.

We moved from there to Callisburg...near the creek in Cooke County...3 miles north and east of Callisburg.

We lived out in the woods away from everyone.  There was a creek that ran for miles down in front of the house and it had lots of fishin' holes.

I done a lot of fishin' and huntin' all through out my life.  We had coon dogs from the time I was six 'till I was 18, so we done lots of coon huntin' as well.

We didn't have much money so I would sell the coon hides for $15-$20.

We had 3 horses, so between coon dogs, horses, huntin' and fishin', I stayed pretty busy.  I was hardly ever home.


I was pretty much raised by a Blue Tick Hound and an Appaloosa.  And I was raised hearing meaningful things, and have been hearing them most of my life.


As far as my plans go when I get out?  Well, I guess I'm gonna go back home where I was raised up and spend the rest of my days there on the farm and hopefully do a lot of fishin'--I'm pretty old school.









Monday, March 16, 2015

THE BABE


Jimmy and Diane Crabtree lovingly hold their newborn baby
Chuckwa Don....a moment of pride

February 26th, 2015 (written by my daughter Grace on the day her son Henry was born)

Henry August Pshigoda graced us with his presence on February 26, 2015 at 11:15 a.m. as the snowflakes turned thick and heavy. Throughout my pregnancy the words MIGHTY! AND REJOICE! would blare in my head. Mighty, indeed. He is tiny weighing in at a mere 7 lbs. 14 oz. but he is surely mighty. He found his way into this world swiftly and boldly and cried the moment we set eyes on him. Seconds later he was nursing with full force and the undoubted ‘ruler of our hearts’. 

His namesake is a German/Russian potato farmer I never had the pleasure of meeting. I have been told he was somber and hardworking and stoic, as is his grandson, my husband and my partner in this life and all the ones before and after it. The father of this child and my second chance to do it right, to do it forever.  The single person who causes me to look in the mirror every day and want to be better and know that I am my best.

I knew long before Henry burst into our lives that day, that he was special. Blessed, anointed, a child held in God’s hands, an old soul and the truest of gifts. In all the whirlwind that is child birth, I felt a strong presence of the Heavenlies in the delivery room that day. I believe I even spoke the words out loud…perhaps Henry August himself, his wife Pauline (Ashley’s beloved grandmother) are near. Angels delivered him into our arms and I could keenly sense our great cloud of witnesses cheering us on. He is a miracle and a gift and a combination of all that is good in both of us. Here to remind us of the race that is set before us. To remind us to shed the heavy cloak of our past sins and mistakes and to start anew. 

Running with such might and force towards all that is good and lovely and angelic. I can and will always remember looking around the hospital room that day and envisioning the faces of those who have gone before us smiling and clapping and whispering of his beauty and might; rejoicing as he left them to be our son. The love and grace of the past year and the jet black Mohawk atop his perfect head has forever changed my soul and changes it again and again every day. 

Mighty. He is mighty. I will forever rejoice.

‘Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us.’-Hebrews 12:1

When Chuckwa’s life began February 11, 1976, I know without a doubt he was loved, felt loved, experienced love, reciprocated love…then and now.


Chuckwa 9 days old

In my soul of souls I do believe that every mother feels and experiences this emotion as she holds her newborn baby.  She is full of hope and promise for a bright future and special life.  I believe that this is an innate desire that dwells in her heart as she holds him to her breast.  I believe that connection she feels to her newborn never goes away...no matter what. I believe that love and connection can be a very powerful thread that somehow and sometimes, will knit together tears in the cloth that may seem impossible to repair.  But possible, always possible, for a mother....and God.

For you created my inmost being;
    you knit me together in my mother’s womb.
I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
    your works are wonderful,
    I know that full well.
 My frame was not hidden from you
    when I was made in the secret place,
    when I was woven together in the depths of the earth.
 Your eyes saw my unformed body;
    all the days ordained for me were written in your book
    before one of them came to be.

Psalm 139: 13-16

Wednesday, March 11, 2015

LET'S BEGIN IN THE MIDDLE


Chuckwa Don Crabtree TDCJ# 01736141

Gina Gillispie
Editor High Plains Observer



On August 25, 2011, Chuckwa Don Crabtree was sentenced to 40 years in the Texas penitentiary for the murder of Michael Miller.  Gillispie posted the news story on her online paper and couldn't get the face of Crabtree out of her mind

Gillispie:  As I studied this face on the page of the news site, my heart felt so sad.  I could not help but see something in his eyes that told more than just the story of a convicted murderer.  Stories like Chuckwa's are very uncommon in our small communities and his story would just not let me rest.  On September 7, 2012, God tugged at my heart...and I followed that prompt and wrote Mr. Crabtree the first letter.

"My life is very good and abundant and even though I have made mistakes, I believe I am a good person and feel very blessed.  There is a story about Paul being in jail--chained and shackled, but was singing anyway.  I have often wondered if I would have that kind of faith and that is the one thing I wonder about you....
do you feel despair...how do you get through your days...
do you have faith?"

Crabtree:  I just received your letter about 20 minutes ago and haven't stopped smiling yet. I quickly called my mother as soon as I could and read your letter to her and she couldn't stop crying.  I want to thank you for taking an interest in me and let you know that I am not a bad person, and yes, there is a lot of sadness in my eyes.

And so began our friendship that plays itself out with pen and paper, on a steady basis, since 2012.


I hope you will enjoy reading the emotional words of a young man who will spend the best part of his life behind the bars he admits he put around himself.

It is my prayer that when God tugged at my heart that day, 
the reason was for others to be blessed
 and this bad thing will have a purpose.  
That the life of a man that was taken can somehow live on, 
and that the life of the man who took it, can feel redemption.

I am just the voice
for the Callisburg Kid

Psalm 130: 7
Put your hope in the Lord,for there is faithful love with the Lord
and with Him is redemption abundant