Beaudacious B. J. Barcewski, III

         

  The story of B.J Barcewski is a fascinating epitome of a curious youngster constantly seeking adventure. Fearless to a fault and blessed with an inquisitive mind. He possessed an insatiable appetite for knowledge. This youngster was eternally on the prowl for adventure, challenges. He thirsted for new avenues to pursue to satiate his  endeavors. He was ALL boy, yet not a mean bone in his character. He arose each day rarin' to get started on some new quest!

  Born with the handle Beauregard Joseph Barcewski, III it was an easy step to accept the nicknames of B.J. or more to his liking, Beau Joe!!! The shortened versions of his name came to light when even early teachers found it much more expedient to refer to the ball of fire as Beau Joe!! When he reached high school age his classmates often referred to him as "BBJ". It was much to his liking and his classmates picked up on the nicknames. However, at home, he was always called Beauregard or Beauregard Joseph. After all he was the third and he was born to a proud family. He never fit the mold of his family's expectations, but none the less, he was part of a long line of Barcewskis'. Unfortunately for Beau, he was reminded of his heritage continually as he grew up. So much for Beau Joe's background.

  When but nine or ten years old Beau ascertained a most interesting place to reconnoiter. It was a large expanse of land west of the city and north of Coon Creek. It was part city dump and the rest land tat had been left to deteriorate over the years. Everyone that he new call it "the Hobo Jungle". He was told many times not to go there, but it was like a magnet pulling on him every time he came close to the fallow territory. Beau Joe found something new to him on each successive visit to "the Jungle", so it was an easy decision on his part to return either by himself or a good friend. Time meant nothing to him when he was on one of his expeditions, as a result over the years he spent many hours combing through the vast wasteland. He always found something of great interest to him. Each discovery whether it be a piece of glass, a car part, a sheet of metal, a brick, or even an old rock, the artifact made him pause to contemplate how it got to be there and what was its origin in the first place. Beau Joe never took anything home as that would have been a dead give away as to his quests. He often return where he had left some of his discoveries only to be surprised over the fact they had been moved or were absent altogether! Not too startling as he knew others roamed around the "the Jungle". He heard many tales that bums and hobos camped out in "the Jungle". He had run across several sites that appeared to have been used for camping and cooking. However, he never came face to face with a bum or a hobo. Once, he discovered a hobo taking a nap in the early afternoon. From a position where he was not to apprehended, Beau Joe had a bit of fun. He had recently purchased a water gun, and he carried it with him at all times. Once he settled into his position of opportunity, he began squirting the hobo over and over. The hobo awakened just long enough to stare around to see if was going to rain. Having determined it wouldn't rain, the hobo would roll over and return to his restful slumber. Beau Joe would pause occasionally as he pondered what might have taken place had the hobo that he anointed, had captured him after committing his transgression? Past history was something Beau Joe spent little time trying to decipher!

  Beau Joe and some of his adventuring friends spent many hours exploring the banks of Coon Creek. It was often Beau Joe's practice to follow the bank of Coon Creek in the opposite direction from his last journey down the meandering waterway. Sometimes he was disappointed with Coon Creek as occasionally the creek bed was nearly dry and the water was flowing. Under most circumstances this creek flowed from east to west and joined with the Neosho River just west of his hometown. More often than not Beau Joe's expeditions went westward. He would either start just north of his own home or he would start from his best friend's home which b ut a few blocks away. In all his travels eastward he never found the beginnings of Coon Creek. However, he always seemed to make his travels west extend to the river and south along the river, sometimes as far as a mile or two. On his trips he was never disappointed as he always ran upon a variety of the local wildlife. Birds were in ample supply. Now and then he would stumble upon a raccoon or a muskrat. Frogs were always along the banks of the stream. Most often as he would approach, they would jump into the safety of the creek. However, Beau Joe caught his share, always releasing them after a few minutes of their capture. He never found it necessary to kill or injure any of the animals that he trapped. Snakes, this was a different matter. He honestly never attempted to catch any snakes, but he did throw rocks and dirt clods at those creatures. It was an educational experience for Beau Joe when one day he observed a medium sized water snake capture and devour a rather large frog. To Beau Joe this feat was rather amazing as snake wasn't nearly as big around as the snake. It took the snake some time to ingest the frog. It also appeared to Beau Joe that the frog was still alive. This event made Beau Joe very aware as to how animals in the wild live and survive or become part of Mother Nature's food chain. The event left a lifelong impression upon Beau Joe. Beau Joe on rare occasions explored the banks of Coon Creek without his trusty "Red Rider" BB gun. In those days people were not quite so gun conscious and parents were more accountable for the activities of their youngsters. While coursing along the creek, Beau Joe had no trouble finding targets to shoot. Often these targets were old bottles, cans, snakes, and an occasional turtle. Only the turtles were impervious to his trusty weapon. Once on an outing, Beau Joe came across a car junk yard. After scrutinizing the junk yard, he took up a position at the very back of the facility. He was out both vision and ear shot of the proprietor. He began an onslaught of shots at many of the old wrecks with broken windows. Man was this fun!!! He made up all sorts of games as if he were being besieged by a foreign army or a band of hostile Indians. Each event was different and his chosen enemy was always new and challenging. This particular activity took place every Saturday, weather permitting. However, one Saturday, events occurred that brought this event to an swift screeching stoppage. Beau Joe had been having so much fun with his shooting he invited some friends to join in the festivity. Unfortunately for this little group of soldiers, one in the party had not heard the directive,"shoot at only the old wrecked cars with broken or cracked windows!". As it happened, one of the invitees shot an unblemished car with a passenger sitting right next to the window. To say the least the events that followed this incident put an end to the "shooting parties". Alas, it was fun while it lasted. Beau Joe was not deterred. It was but a short time before he was off on a new adventure!