It's nice to see you again. How's the family?

I'm doing fine, nice of you to ask. I had a great summer vacation, as if a bad summer vacation is even possible. The first few months of school had flown by when Mom decided we should take a trip to visit her sister in Virginia during Christmas break. We left the day after Christmas.

Aunt Becky's husband is a captain in the army at Fort Belvoir, Virginia. She had just given birth to her second child, and Mom was anxious to get her hands on it. It's a mom thing.

Well, look at me. I'm getting ahead of myself. Let me finish something for my teacher and I'll tell you about my latest adventure.

Mrs. Dabney stood and looked out over our sixth grade classroom. Pointing toward the back of the room, she said, "Boys and girls, please welcome Daniel Boone."

I came out of the coatroom in the back of the class dressed in the woodsman outfit my grandmother had helped me put together. It was similar to the one I wore during my adventure at Fort Boonesborough in 1776. I wore buckskin moccasins and leggings, a large homespun shirt, and a loose fitting vest that hung down below my waist. I had tied a large, red scarf around my neck and wore a large floppy felt hat. A shot bag made of buckskin hung over my shoulder. I had tucked a sheathed hunting knife and my prize tomahawk in my waistband. I had whittled a hickory handle for the tomahawk and made it look like the one Falling Hawk had thrown at my noggin when I first met Daniel Boone.

Everyone turned to look at me. Snickers and quiet murmurs flowed across the room like critter noise at nightfall—one chirp turned into a chorus of noise.

I walked to the front of the class and paused, giving Beth Collins the stink eye. Her murmur had turned into a conversation with Barbara Mitchell—something about doing something to somebody after school.

Once I regained control of the room, I began my presentation by describing Boone and his family as I knew them.

When the class broke for recess, Mrs. Dabney asked me to come up to her desk. An icy chill shot up my spine. I didn't recall doing anything bad, but one never knows. Our teachers at Estill County Middle School had the eyes and ears of coyotes, and the teachers' lounge was a hotbed of gossip. I guess that's what a pack does in order to survive.

"Ben," she said. I knew right away from the tone of her voice that I wasn't in trouble. "I appreciate the expressive manner in which you did your report on Daniel Boone, and I apologize for the interruptions. The children seem to get tickled when you talk about history as though you were actually back in 1776."

"Well, as a matter of fact Mrs. Dabney, I ..."

Oops, here I was in my time, 1976, on the verge of telling my favorite teacher that I had traveled back to 1776 and met the great frontiersman, Daniel Boone. It was a terrific adventure. Boone and I took to each other like butter and grape jelly on a hot biscuit.

You seem confused. Well, I guess I would be too. You see, I can go back in time and visit with people and events right when history is being made ...

No, wait, don't walk away. Sit back down and let me explain.

I didn't ask to travel around in history. It just happened one day, and I kind of went with it. The way I see it, it's a gift. From where or who, I haven't quite figured that out yet. I take hold of something old and the next thing I know, I'm back in history standing next to a Cherokee Indian warrior five hundred years before the first European settler set foot on North America.

The whole time travel thing is a little confusing at times. But you know what—when your grandma sets a big bowl of peach cobbler and vanilla ice cream down in front of you, you don't ask her how she made it. You just enjoy it. I could tell you how that peach cobbler melts in my mouth, but first let me tell you about my adventure.

Who am I? Why, I'm Benjamin Nathan Tuggle, adventurer and time traveler. You probably saw my self-portrait at the beginning of the book. I guess no one really knows exactly what they look like, but that sketch is sorta, pretty much, close to the actual me ... I think. In my drawing, I'm sitting on my grandpa's John Deere tractor. I love that old tractor and the putt, putt sound it makes.

I have to say my visit with Daniel Boone at Fort Boonesborough was just as exciting as my adventure with General George Washington during the Revolutionary War.

Oh, I haven't told you about that? Well, let me wrap up my meeting with Mrs. Dabney, and I'll tell you about my short tour of service in the Continental Army in the year 1778.

"Ma'am, you must know yourself how hard it is to keep the attention of a bunch of twelve-year olds—boys thinking about sports and girls daydreaming about the boys over in Clay County. I try to add a little drama to my talk. It helps everyone stay focused on the subject matter. They tend to remember better when I make it more personal and entertaining." The fact that they applauded at the end of the presentation was proof enough for me.

Wide eyed and smiling, Mrs. Dabney tried to come up with words to thank me for helping her teach her class. I could sense her dilemma and quickly switched on the twelve-year old portion of my brain.

"Can I go on outside now, Mrs. Dabney? David, Charles, and I have a plan to get revenge on the girls in kickball. They always insist on kicking first and then quit when it's our turn to kick. We think we can get the best of them today." Of course, I know'd we weren't about to get the best of those girls, but we had to try.

Mrs. Dabney nodded and gave me a confused little smile. Grabbing my coat and cap, I rushed out the door.

That's the way it is when you have a gift; you just can't tell anyone about it. If I went and told everyone that I could travel back in time and spend an afternoon with Thomas Edison helping him invent the light bulb, they'd be whispering to their friends, That Ben Tuggle has a broken filament.

But, as I started to tell Mrs. Dabney, I did in fact, visit Daniel Boone in 1776. You know that because I told you about it a while back. It was my twelfth birthday. My family and I were visiting my grandparents in Redhouse, Kentucky, when I found the old tomahawk head and back to 1776 I went.

My birthday? It's kind of you to ask. I got a lot of nice clothes, which I appreciated. But, and I'm sure you will agree with me, it takes a long time to say thank you when you get clothes for your birthday!

Sit back now, and I'll tell you about my visit with one of the most remarkable men I have ever met. George Washington was one of the founding fathers of our country. Just look around you. How many streets, cities, and counties can you think of that are named Washington? Why, even a state is named after him. You got anything named after you? Neither do I, but I'm working on it.

Oh, by the way. David, Charles, and I implemented our secret plan, and the girls signed a contract agreeing to let us kick after we got three outs. Well, you guessed it. When we got the third out, they quit on us. Sometimes, I feel like I live in the Sunday morning comic strip.

Anyway, a nice family Christmas trip through the snow-covered mountains suited me just fine. The Appalachian Mountains are beautiful when the leaves have fallen and snow highlights the hills and valleys.

We...