FROM THE TOP
LELAND ACKER chreporter@mediactr.com
The older I get, the more I seem to miss my younger days. No, I don't necessarily miss "my glory days" of leading my high school debate team to the regional tournament, or being a part of a top-rated morning show in Nacogdoches. I miss the culture and lifestyle my family enjoyed when I was a child.

I couldn't help but think back to those days as I followed the funeral procession that led to the Providence Cemetery where my uncle, Kenneth Acker, was laid to rest Thursday. Watching the line of patrol cars lead us, I couldn't help but feel a sense of pride for the years he served Cherokee County as a deputy.

My uncle Kenneth is a legend. There is not a law enforcement officer in Cherokee County who does not have a "Kenneth story" to tell. Those who didn't serve with him can usually recite a story told to them by those who did.

Whenever I go to cover a story, or to sell an ad, I am always asked of my relationship to Kenneth.

He enjoyed his career as a law enforcement officer and was proud to do it. The only passion he had before that was probably agriculture.

Gardening is an art that runs deep in the Acker family, though it seems to have withered with my generation. Uncle Kenneth liked to grow vegetables and was quick to share some.

It was because of him we changed which breed of chickens we raised. (We liked the different color of eggs better.)

He never missed an opportunity to help us harvest our surplus peaches, either. Uncle Kenneth was a beloved father, grandfather and even uncle. There will never be another like him.

While I reflect on his life, I reflect on the times I spent with him. These were the Acker family get-togethers. They frequently happened on Christmas, Thanksgiving, various holidays and birthdays.

Those were the times our personalities really came out. Whether it was an argument about a political movement, the breaking of a closet door, or our disdain of the Lakers winning another NBA championship, we really had good times.

Those times are rare these days. "The kids" as we are called all have our own families and careers. Some have moved far away. Some stay close, but busy.

The days of gathering under the pine tree and cutting open a watermelon seem to be long past. As much as we'd like to get together, we're too busy.

Good times. Hopefully, the good times are not gone forever, but for a season.