Yes, My name is Rebecca Chapter One

Yes, My Name is Rebecca

Written by Rebecca Maloney

Copyright held by Rebecca Maloney
Self published 2014

This book is dedicated to my beautiful daughters and husband. Life with the old me was hard. Each of you took care of me in more ways than I can recall. I apologize to each one of you for not being healed before becoming a mother and a wife. I pray these pages bring you understanding and healing of lifelong issues within our family.

I urge each of my readers to know that I am not the hurt, broken girl I shared in these pages. This book has been written and shared so that each of you can find our Loving Saviors miracles in your own life as I have. I have an intimate relationship with the Most High God who created this world and the universe. He loves me, unconditionally.
The book was part of my healing journey and so that I could find that God has always been with me thru every up and every down of my life. It has brought me God’s peace with surpasses under-standing. The year that I wrote this book Satan took control in my life I sadly admit. He plunged me into depression so severely that I had to seek mental health counseling to find my way out of Sa-tan’s lies and deception. I was blessed to have a ladies ‘bible’ study group on Monday nights who coupled with therapy lifted me out of that dark ugliness and closer to God than I had ever imagined.
As you read this pages remind yourself- Rebecca is healed and whole! These words tell the story of how one lost little girl who was plunged into abuse by all of her caretakers rose to the surface and reached for God, found His everlasting love and then she claimed her God given name which No One can take away!
A Prayer For You
Heavenly Father, I pray that you guard this reader’s heart from the hurt, shame and guilt that has been shed in these pages. Fill this reader with your grace, hope and love to overcome Satan in everyway. May this reader walk in Jesus’s victory all the rest of their days.

Chapter I
was born in Kremmling, Colorado in June of 1962. Although I don’t remember it, my Father told me that he came home from work and was cleaning up for dinner. My Mom impatiently said what are you doing? Apparently she told him she needed to go to hospital when he came in but he did not hear her. He was shaving and so it surprised that him so much shaved the mole off of his chin.
They drove into town from Sheriff Van Pelt’s Sunshine Ranch and I surprised them at about 7:30 PM. I was supposed to be LeRoy Charles Smith Jr but was not born with the correct plumbing so God put in their minds to name me Rebecca Lee Smith. They called me Becky I think from birth. I don’t ever remember hearing my family call me by my God given name.
My father was taking care of the Sheriff’s animals because Chancey had been shot in the line of duty. Once he was recovered, my parents had been building a house in town near the railroad tracks that we all moved into. Mom used to tell me about the beautiful hardwood floors they put in. They got it all from a contractor who ripped it out of a “rich” person’s house because it warped. She was very proud of her hardwood floors. They worked for days getting ready to put in a picture window in the living room. Mom drove to Denver, picked up the special ordered picture window, drove it all the way over two mountain passes and got to the house without so much as a chip in it. When the men placed the window her father in law’s first nail cracked it corner to corner! I don’t think they ever got the money to replace it.
My father ran a gas station that his father owned. He did most of the mechanical work that came in and Mom picked up the mail from the train every night and drove mail to the Post Offices of Kremmling, Yampa, Toponas, Phippsburg, Oak Creek, Steamboat Springs, Maybell, Craig and back. She told several stories of those long winter nights and falling asleep because she was so tired. Her jeep would rub up alongside the Post Office and that would wake her up. God must have been guiding that jeep for her to survive.
In 1965 my Granddad was hurt in a horse accident and Mom load-ed my sister, Linda, me and herself into the car and we left for Tucson AZ to help her father. He had been picked up by ambu-lance with a head injury, on the way to the hospital someone failed to yield and broadsided the ambulance. Mom always felt that if they had been able to get Granddad to the hospital faster he would have survived but the delay of a second accident was too much. He had basically been scalped when his horse threw him. Granddad was in the hospital for about three weeks mostly in a coma before he passed away. Mom kept a bedside vigil and Linda took care of me for the most part. They also spent time car-ing for his horses. He owned about 10 horses and was riding Ante-lope at the time of his accident.
We were staying in Granddad’s airstream trailer parked on a gentleman’s property that had room for his horses too. My mother opened a letter from my father as she was sitting by Granddads hospital bed. He said he didn’t want her to come back. He was not happy and did not want to be married anymore. Mom said she called him and he agreed to send her things and that my brother could stay with him. Dave and Linda were actually my half siblings. They were both from my mother’s second marriage. Dave stayed with LeRoy for about a year after their divorce. I never saw LeRoy again until I was 10 years old.
Linda was exercising Granddads horses as far as I know daily. Mom was there when she was working Antelope in the riverbed. Linda pulled up on the horse and the bridle snapped and fell off. Linda bailed immediately but knew that horse was gonna beat her back to the ranch. Linda started running up to the closest house so she call and tell Mom she was fine. Antelope came racing into the ranch; Mom was ready to beat Linda for allowing a horse to run home like that; when Antelope came into sight without a rider, Mom nearly collapsed. She thought this horse killed my father, why did I let her ride it? She jumped in her car to follow the riverbed and find Linda. As she was pulling out the owner of the property came running out- Linda is OK, she is not hurt….. and told her which house she was at. I still cry and can hear the relief in my Moms voice that her daughter was ok. The owner of where Granddad lived was given first choice of my Granddad’s horses. Granddad told Mom he had treated him good and wanted him to have the horse of his choice.
Another time that Granddad arose out of the coma he said to my Mom ‘Bobs what happened?’ She said Daddy, Antelope threw you and you are in the hospital. He said ‘No way Bobs, Antelope has never bucked in all his life’ and went back to sleep. It was after he passed away Mom was able to piece together the puzzle. Granddad had severe arthritis and because of this he used his trailer step to get on and off his horses. He had given a riding lesson to a young lady that morning, when the lesson was over he was dismounting. She was not paying attention to her horse and allowed him to walk up onto Antelopes’ heels. Antelope kicked at the horse as Granddad was dismounting. I think Mom found this out from the young lady who was grief stricken with what had transpired.
The gentleman who owned the property where Granddad was living and had his horses boarded at choose to keep “Blackie”. He was a black Shetland pony. He was MY horse. I remember him and remember riding him although not the way Linda tells me really happened! Mind you I was only 3- In my mind my 17 yr. sister and I rode horses together. She exercised several and I exercised Blackie because I was such a good rider! Linda tells me that she had a lead rope on Blackie ALL the time. He was so mean that he would do anything to get rid of me. One time Linda dropped one of her reins, she surveyed the situation and decided it would be safe to drop my lead rope long enough to grab her rein. Wrong. Blackie bolted and Linda said I rode like a cowboy! Did great, then Blackie began lunging up out of the riverbed and that is when I fell off on to the top of a barrel cactus. She said I would not even go out with her to horses again until I was 6 years old. I think God al-lows our brains to filter out memories like that one for good reasons! Mom told me years later that the gentleman kept Blackie for me- he knew Mom would not be able to afford a horse for me and he wanted me to have a horse.
I do have one memory of Granddads trailer. Mom and I were coming home and there were two dogs were in the driveway. Our dog, Penny was one of them and they wouldn’t get out of the driveway. Mom raced forward to spook them, then slammed on the brakes because she was concerned she was going to run over the dogs. When she slammed on the brakes it caused me to hit the dash. Then I remember Mom carrying me in and setting me on the sofa and getting a cold wash cloth. I have about a ¼ inch scar in the center of my forehead from hitting the dash.
Mom naturally had to go to work. I only remember her working at Steinheimer bookstore as a bookkeeper for them. She may have had other jobs before this one that I don’t remember. I was babysat by a dear lady named Janet. Her husband was Booke and they had two children that were the ages of Linda and Dave. Their names were Clarence and Little Linda. Janet and Booke were fantastic. I spent most of my time with Janet but got to mechanic in the garage some with Booke. I remember one week when I spent every minute of eve-ry day with him. I got to nap with him (which he never did). I got to eat off of his plate, drink out of his cup. I was on cloud nine! I asked my Mom about that later in life. Turns out her and Janet thought that since Booke had the mumps it would be a great time for me to catch them, since I wasn’t in school yet. That poor man! I can only imagine that he would have loved to throttle all of us for this terrible scheme! I did not catch the mumps until two years later.
Janet brought her grandson, Sean home from the hospital. He was cute! He had a headful of curly light brown hair. I asked her why she had Sean- why didn’t Clarence have Sean. Clarence and his girlfriend had the baby. Janet told me that Clarence didn’t want him and Janet wanted Sean to know he was loved. It didn’t take long to see that Sean was not a “normal” baby. He was eventually diagnosed as blind and deaf. He heard his Grandma. He responded to his Grandma. But he never heard the rest of the world. He could see shadows but I don’t think he could see much more than that. In the process of growing with Sean in my life I was blessed with his Grandma too. I could ask Janet anything. She never got mad. She always found a way to answer my questions. I tried to mold my answers to my children by the way Janet always answered mine. Janet was one of the angels that God placed in my life to nurture me and love me in ways I am only beginning to understand. I asked her one day ‘why is Sean like this?’ She smiled and said well Becky that is a sad answer. Clarence and his girlfriends did drugs. They used drugs before she was pregnant. They used drugs while she was pregnant. So even though Sean looks right- he has all his arms, legs, toes and fingers, his brain did not develop like it was supposed to. I asked her would he always be like this? She said we really do not know. We are learning too. I will keep working with Sean and helping him and I do not know how much Sean can learn. I asked her did they know that they were hurting their baby. She cried and said I think they knew. I cried. He was a baby. He was a sweet baby. To learn that they hurt him on purpose was heartbreaking.
I have vague memories of being in what was called Nursery School back then. It was called Outer Limits Nursery School. Mrs. Nelson was the owner and a very kind lady. There was Mrs. Nickles who always comforted me on the play yard. She was an elderly lady and very patient. She was always willing to explain or offer a different point of view when there were arguments with other children. Many times Mom would not make it there to pick me up choosing to go to the bar and leave Pat Haraway to care for me. Pat worked at the Nursery School and my sister, Linda was dating her brother for a long time. I would get to eat dinner with them and I usually got to sleep in Pat’s room although sometimes they would have me sleep on the sofa. Most days I woke up at home, not sure how or when I got there but many days Pat would take me to school the next morning. I remember Pat or her Mom took me to buy a couple of outfits that I could change into and not have to wear the same thing.
Linda had a horse that I loved dearly. His name was Prince. I’ve heard some different versions of my memories of Prince but think mine are the ones to be told. He was a palomino. I do not know if he was a stud or a gelding. I loved to ride him. Linda couldn’t ever let me ride him enough. I remember Lin-da being frustrated with me, trying to teach me the word Whoa. I did not understand why a horse needed a different word that meant the same thing as stop. I was determined he would listen to stop. I would be riding around and around in the arena urging him faster and faster. I would get tired of riding and Prince would never stop when I said stop. Linda would yell at me to say Whoa. This seemed to work but just seemed silly to me. One day Linda apparently wasn’t watching as close as usual when I got bored with the ride. I decided to jump off. Well jumping was never a talent of mine. Whatever I did to dislodge myself from the saddle landed me dead in front of Prince who stopped like he hit a brick wall. Dropped his muzzle to me, inspected me. I knew I was fine and as soon as he knew it we walked over to my sister who looked like she had just seen a ghost.
The next time I chose to dismount from my “wild” steed I aimed better and hooked my arm over the 6X6 Railroad tie that was one of the fence posts. I was very proud of myself! I aimed and land-ed where I aimed for! Poor Prince was beside himself. He worked hard to keep me in the saddle even though he was never smart enough to learn the word Stop! My sister spanked me. When we got home my mother spanked me. I could not believe they both spanked me. I had pulled off a rather hard feat! But I did tear my shirt and had splinters in my armpit until yesterday I think!
Some of my time was spent with Dick and Kathleen Knisley. They were an older couple, whom had known Granddad. They owned some of Granddads horses. I rode with Dick all the time. They lived just off of Ft. Lowell Road. We would saddle up and ride to the barns a few miles away. I don’t remember what we did at the barns. I remember Dick teaching me to listen for rattlesnakes. Funny the only time I have heard a rattler was in the living muse-um in Tucson, but I sure always listened to keep us safe. It was probably his way of shutting me up! Kathleen had Midge a mare that was branded with the Bar Key brand. I rode Heidi, a big dun mare that Granddad had trained to sidestep. I did not know how to make her sidestep. But when I would least want her to she would take off sidestepping. One time I was turning around to talk to Dick and must have ‘cued’ her to sidestep. She took off quickly sidestepping down the road. I was holding on for dear life with my little heel digging in to not fall over and she was stepping faster… Dick hollered sit up straight! I managed to pull myself up straight she stopped. Heidi snorted her disgust at me- I hollered at her- don’t get nasty with me, it’s not like I asked you to do that to us. If you don’t like to sidestep DON’T DO IT! Dick laughed at me and onto their home we went. Kathleen tried to teach me to play the piano. She taped all the notes onto the keys of her upright piano. She would sit with me and tried to help me learn the keys. I must not have wanted to learn. I remember sitting there with her and listening but sure don’t remember how to play anything. She also let me practice ironing clothes. I ironed their sheets and pillow-cases for them. One day she let me iron my dolls clothes and I ran the iron over my right thumb. It burned my thumb badly but I was afraid I would be in trouble. So I didn’t say anything. That night when Mom came to pick me up I was trying to keep my thumb from being touched, which mothers always recognize that type of behavior! She examined my thumb and they were both scared. It was too late to put butter on it and they did not know what else to do for a burn. They bandaged me – looked nearly like a cast. Seemed like it took a long time for it to heal. I still have a small scar from it- had to have a bad burn. It was probably God protecting me from them putting butter on it, which thru the years people have learned is the worst thing a person can do to a burn.
Dick & Kathleen had to have been more angels that God blessed me with. The love they both shared with me humbles me even today. God placed these kind people in my life to show me His love for me when my family was not.
I think on days that I didn’t go to the Kinsley’s I went to work with Mom. One day I was walking past Mary Cisco one of Mom’s coworkers. I got spanked for not answering Mary. I was shocked and told Mom I did not hear Mary. Mary then repeated herself, ‘How are you today?’ I told her I was fine thank you. This episode sent me off to the Dr. That led going to a hearing specialist. Turns out I was deaf in my left ear and the cute little mispronunciations I had were from lack of hearing. The doctors thought I would out-grow this. I had always had terrible ear infections and it was prob-ably the cause of the loss of hearing. I was put into speech therapy for three grueling years. I detested it. But it was an incredible beginning of the program of what we now know as phonics. It not only improved my speech but made English easier to learn, under-stand and a better student. I regained my hearing around 3rd grade, although have struggled with ear aches my whole life.
My sister got married when I was about 6 years old. Her wedding and reception was at Moms employers’ house, the Steinheimers. They had a beautiful home in the foothills. I was not happy. I knew they were moving to California. I did not want my sister to leave me. I wanted to go with her. I don’t remember much about the vows but I remember the reception and Linda being so happy. I was very sad. Her husband’s brother asked me to come decorate their car. We tied cans and ribbons and decorated up the windows with just married and such. We went back inside and I sat at the piano. I thought there should be pretty music for my sister. Mrs. Steinheimer came over and told me I could play. I did my best but could tell by Linda’s face and Moms that it wasn’t pretty music so I sat quietly. Linda and Steve ran out thru rice being showered and left for their honey-moon in Hawaii. They returned long enough to take her clothes and it seemed like forever before I got to see Linda again.
I remember my first day of school at Davidson Elementary and meeting my teacher Mrs. Doty. I was six years old and this was 1st grade. She was very tall and skinny. I think she was the skinniest teacher I ever had. I always tried very hard on all of my school work and think she probably encouraged being studious through-out my life.
After school most days I walked to Mrs. Hart’s house. They lived 4 houses from us. Mr. Hart was the fire chief. They had 2 boys and 2 girls. Patty was their youngest daughter and only 1 year younger than I. I liked being at their house.
One of my sister’s trips home to visit we all went to Nogales Mexico. It was always a fun time to go and barter for treasures. My ears began hurting badly as we were shopping. Mom usually stuffed a cotton ball into my ear to help relieve the pain but we could not find any in Mexico. My brother in law had driven Mom’s car and they chose to drive across the border into Mexico. Usually Mom stayed on the United States side. Steve couldn’t find the car keys. We back tracked to many stores and no keys turned in. In nearly every place we asked they assured us they could get us into the car, not to worry. We got near where we parked and Steve went to look inside the car. There were the keys sitting on the car seat. So a little boy about 10 years old ran over with a ‘jimmy stick’ and opened the car door. We were on our way. Each time Mom told the story she would say it became apparent to her that locking the car doors did not protect it!


Depression – More Honest Confessions

I awoke on Wednesday so depressed and oppressed it was hard to function. Just asking my daughter some tough questions through a text message brought forth sobs of despair. When her answers were positive I moved my mind to others that I am concerned about.
I felt like a lion was just about to pounce on me and devour me. I had this foreboding intuition that the worst possible news was about to be dropped on me. These are two feelings I’ve had many times throughout this year. I keep several of my handouts from my counseling through what is now known as Colorado Mind Springs Health. I read through them and apply their wisdom. They help in a variety of ways.
I spoke with my other daughter later in the day and told her I was battling hard with depression. As we were talking both of my daughters suggested the same reason for my depression to be resurfacing. But what I heard in her voice made me realize she was concerned about me committing suicide. So I spoke up, I told her I am depressed. It is all I can do to not sob hysterically, but I am not suicidal. While she was relieved for this information I realized that as I try to help promote how to help people like me who fight mental illness this needs to be addressed.
We all like to have checklists and mental health does not allow for a checklist to work as well as I would like it to. But I am going to attempt to address in here what transpired through this breakdown of stability in my life in hopes of it helping others.
I woke up from a dream that clearly recalled was one of my children is desperate trouble, using drugs, sleeping around, etc and one of my other children encouraging her to hide it from me and not let me be involved. Mind you my children are all grown and living their own successful lives. And I told myself this while the foreboding feelings were overtaking me. There is a possibility this dream was about other young people in my life I care about but who ever the dream was about I could not find any logical reason to worry. I asked the hard questions of my daughter who lives out-of-state. She assured me she is not doing those things.
The impending doom feeling kept getting stronger. I had to get to work and felt I didn’t have time to go through my worksheets. My husband gave me a hug. You know those hugs. The ones that say I love you, I know it is a really bad day and I am here hugs. The hug brought on the sobbing. I gathered together my frayed edges and left for work.
A dear friend told me that she felt the lion ready to pounce was depression. When I thought about the bible verse, beware Satan is lurking like a lion waiting to devour you, I agreed with her. So I began praying that Satan leave, praying for God’s protection of my mind and my family. I know when I fall into depression it is as hard on the family as it is me.
Then sometime after talking to my 2nd daughter I gave myself permission to be sad. I decided instead of trying to hide it or be ashamed of it I will embrace it. It is a real emotion. I did not feel I had a ‘reason’ to be sad. I’ve kept this quiet and secretive because I feel like I am crazy. I’ve been told I am crazy. So I don’t talk about it. Today that is changing- I am talking about it. My counselor assured me that I am NOT crazy. So maybe if you can read this and make some sense of it you can help someone else with what I have experienced.
Today is Saturday and I no longer feel overwhelming sad. The lion is not waiting to pounce. I gave myself permission to be sad and to cry. In the past I have stuffed all emotions that I could not explain. They were still there and at times would all burst out at the same time which made me feel completely out of control of my life. I would have these foreboding intuitions that I would ask people I love if they are okay until they are SICK and TIRED of hearing my voice. I see it in their eyes, I hear it in their texts- I am fine, Mom- you are the only crazy one. So I do my best to stuff that impending doom feeling until I finally just crumble to being suicidal.
I can’t trust my emotions, I can’t trust my intuitions, NO ONE understands, Everyone thinks I am crazy- I must be crazy. They would be better off without me bothering them all the time. They will do better without me. And the thoughts go on and on until planning suicide gives me an outlet for all these stuffed emotions and intuitions. Because I plan it my head, there is NO arguing. There is NO one telling me it’s wrong. There is NO one telling me its crazy. It is whole conversations that I have not recognized as only my participation in. By the time I have been ready to put my plan into action my mind has usually turned it into a fight between you and I. I will finally have MY way. I am done doing it your way and letting you win. YOU just think I am crazy. I will show you I am not crazy! I planned this and did it without your assistance in any way!
Does that sound crazy? Yes, even to me it does! But these are some of the real thoughts/beliefs I’ve overcome in the past.
So here is a checklist that might help you?!?
Your loved one says they feel depressed/sad.
DO NOT ASK WHY! Ask- How can I help?
You are probably going to get an answer like, there’s nothing you can do. I will handle it.
ASK!! Are you thinking about suicide? Push for an answer. Don’t be nullified with abstract non answers to this question. If your loved one is evasive, please err on the side of caution and assume the answer is yes.
Most people I have dealt with that say NO I am not suicidal are ‘safe’ and we can all help them deal with the depression/sadness.
Encourage talking about it with anyone and everyone! At the end of my last delivery run on Wednesday, the sweet kind lady that checks in our boxes at the airport asked how I was. I was honest. I did not say, fine. I said I’ve been battling with depression all day and managed somehow not to start crying right there. She struggled with depression and said when it starts in for her she starts taking more B vitamins! This has been helpful for me in the past and I stopped and bought me some new B1 vitamins. But what is more important here is that her and I talked about it. She didn’t ignore it, or tell me not to feel that way. She said I understand, I struggle with it to and here is what I do. The acceptance helped me.
This week what I discovered is just let myself be sad! I didn’t have a reason for it and that is okay. I am no longer feeling that overwhelming sadness. The foreboding doom feeling has left too. Will it return? More than likely the answer is yes. Yes I will have to annoy my loved ones with those questions- are you okay? Is your life falling apart? I will hopefully always be wrong with feelings of doom and gloom.
Feel free to comment or ask questions! I am not an expert, but I have lots of experience and will answer anything I am able to!

I choose you.

I was on my hands and knees working at stuffing insulation into air cracks this morning when my husband came home and walked up behind me and said, “I choose you, call the Dr. tell her I will take whatever pills she wants me to.” He then went onto to tell me that he decided he wants to be here with me as long as he can and even though he doesn’t want to start a daily regimen of prescriptions he will.
See we both went into the Dr. together about 3 months ago. Neither of us go regularly but we recognize that as we are aging we should get a check up with an actual Dr. Hubby has an umbilical hernia and a fatty cyst that the Dr. feels we should take care of. In order to do that he was sent to a general surgeon who had a cat scan done of his abdomen. That came in clear and the surgeon and Dr wanted a colonoscopy. So poor Hubby did all the prep work for a colonoscopy and the day of the procedure the anesthesiologist refused to put him under without a cardio clearance.
In the midst of all of this the Dr told Hubby that his cholesterol was so high he needed medicine to lower it. At that time he said no medicine and has DRASTICALLY changed his eating habits. They will test his blood again in about 5 months now to see if this is enough to have dropped his cholesterol levels.
Well it has taken 4 more appointments to get thru all of the cardio tests. Yesterday was the stress test. It is appropriately named! He has been under so much stress about these tests and I have been trying to comfort him and be there for every second of it- to support him and learn everything I possibly can to help both of us make any necessary changes in our lives.
Hubby’s blood pressure sky rocketed during his stress test yesterday. They suggested medicine and he refused. He was mad and frustrated. I didn’t quite understand why. I also do not like the thought of daily medicine. But taking something for cholesterol and/or high blood pressure seems simple and easy (from my point of view).
It did my heart good that after a night of thinking about it, he chooses me! He chooses to take some medicine and be here longer with me.
Then I went into town and got my first mammogram, EVER. I knew if Hubby could walk thru his fears and look after his health for me, then I would do what I could to be here for him.
I was accosted at the entrance of the hospital. I told her I knew what I was doing, and she kindly told me I had to go to registration first. It was almost too much. I wanted to run. I was angry and frustrated. I realized I was having the same reaction Hubby did yesterday. I took a deep breath and told myself I could do this.
To all the medical workers out there that face this anger and frustration you probably already know this, but I wanted to let you know that for Hubby and myself we take care of ourselves. We don’t seek professional help for illnesses. We avoid Drs and tests. So to put ourselves in your hands to find out if we are healthy is TERRIFYING. We do not know you. We do not know if you are good at your job. We don’t know what your machines are reporting or how to ‘ace’ these tests. We shouldn’t get angry but it seems to be the only way to protect the sanctity of our lives. We don’t want to hear we need medicine. We don’t want to hear that our bodies are failing us. Change of this magnitude is scary.
I know millions of women get mammograms everyday. Today I chose to follow suit. Today, Hubby I choose you! We will conquer these tests and live many more years together, embarrassing our children and loving life!

Huck Miller was born 3 years ago on 10/11/12 with full trisomy 18. He was with us for a short 5 months. A scholarship fund was established to honor Huck. This is awarded annually by the Rifle, Colorado Police Department for continuing education to special needs students who, like Huck, have shown courage in the face of adversity. Donations can be made to the “Huck Miller Scholarship Fund” in care of Alpine Banks located in Rifle, New Castle, Glenwood Springs, Carbondale and Grand Junction, Colorado or by dropping off your financial gift at the Rifle Police Department.