As the autumn fog drifted upriver, the pungent, stale aroma of the flooded Missouri River soured the night. A thick wall of mosquitoes covered the winding, rocky path that led to the old house at the top of the hill. The combination of the smell of the river and the loud buzzing of the little parasites biting my head increased my fear of meeting the nemesis of my childhood fear face to face. Only I would have to face my fear and ask for an act of kindness and goodwill from a couple who had never received kindness or support from our community or from myself. As a tough kid, I feared nothing except the house on the hill and the people who lived there. They seemed aloof and very unsociable. All my life, these ghostly creatures have remained nameless and obscure. Their lifestyle seemed mysterious, almost occult. There were no signs of modernization. There was no running water, electricity or telephone service encroaching on their property. Not even a mailbox indicated their existence in our little river town. Their clothing was unusual and strange, as was their appearance. Their clothes appeared to be made up of flannel, denim, and solid black cotton. The jet-black mane that flowed freely down the backs of both the man and the woman was no ordinary, but nothing about the couple on the hill looked ordinary. Loud shrill animal cries and sounds of crushing metal echoed through the trees with eerie movements. The hillside groaned with the sound of pounding drums and unknown vocalizations in a repetitive manner, which terrified me late into the night. The startling explosion of gunshots from the hillside always caused a feeling of panic, as if the shot were a warning directed at me. Above...... middle of paper...... I knew nothing about it and was not willing to accept that there is more than one appropriate way to live. Although their lifestyle was foreign to that of most citizens, it was by far the most appropriate for them. I realized that material objects were just aging possessions that soon become useless and many individuals spend their lives running around in circles like hamsters in a cage; worrying about moving forward and “keeping up with the Jones” and never taking the time to realize the value of life itself. In my late 40s, I have made a personal decision to embrace diversity, face and question situations in which I don't feel comfortable. I do not easily understand and share my experience of this new awakening with others. If the world as a whole could open its mind to new experiences and accept the power of diversity, imagine what a wonderful world we would have.