In 1885, North Idaho’s Coeur d’Alene mining country was alive with prospectors chasing rumors of gold, silver and sudden wealth. Among them was veteran prospector Noah Kellogg, whose latest grubstaked expedition seemed destined to end like so many others: with dwindling supplies and nothing valuable to show for the effort.

Then his borrowed jackass wandered away.

When Kellogg tracked down the missing animal near Milo Creek, he found it standing beside an outcropping of galena, the silver-bearing lead ore that would help transform the region.

But where history ends and legend begins remains open to debate.

Did the donkey uncover the ore, merely lead Kellogg to it, or receive credit because North Idaho recognized a wonderfully good story?

Part One of this story explores the famous discovery, the birth of a mining fortune and the unlikely four-legged prospector who became part of Silver Valley folklore.

But one troublesome question remains: If the donkey helped find the fortune, who owned it?

That will be explored in Part 2 of our next podcast!

The mystery of Paul Spear continues—and grows even darker. In Part One, we met the hardworking, one-eyed lumberjack who vanished from his Cocolalla farm sometime before World War II. His companion, Bruce Anderson, claimed Paul had taken a train to Oregon, yet Paul left behind his new automobile and was never seen again.

Part Two follows Anderson into Washington, where he was arrested while using another missing man’s identity and attempting to claim his money and property. The resulting murder investigation led authorities from a Spokane-area chicken ranch to the smoldering remains of a hay barn near Athol, Idaho. A burned body, an engraved belt buckle, a revealing diary, and Anderson’s contradictory confession eventually sent him to the gallows.

But did Bruce Anderson also murder Paul Spear?

Years later, the old Cocolalla farm produced still more questions: a message hidden inside a Mason jar beneath concrete, stories of a haunted house, and an alleged human skeleton buried beneath manure in the chicken house.

Some details are documented. Others survive only as recollections, rumors, and folklore. Nearly ninety years later, Paul’s fate remains unknown. We can examine the evidence, consider the possibilities, and remember the man—but all we can finally do is wonder.

Years before World War II, a hardworking, one-eyed lumberjack named Paul Spear lived on a small farm near Cocolalla, Idaho. Neighbors remembered him as pleasant, sober, and dependable—a man who tended his orchard and beehives when he wasn’t working in distant logging camps.

Then Paul disappeared.

His friend and farmhand, Bruce Anderson, claimed Paul had taken a train to Oregon for a new job. Letters bearing Oregon postmarks seemed to support his story. But no one remembered seeing Paul board the train, and troubling questions soon emerged. Why had he left his new automobile behind? Why was Anderson driving it? And what should people make of the disturbing rumors beginning to circulate around the valley?

Then Anderson disappeared too.

In Part 1 of this 2 Part North Idaho mystery, we follow the unanswered questions surrounding Paul Spear—until a familiar face appears in a newspaper and the story takes a chilling turn.

Playing tennis in the rain seemed perfectly reasonable at the time—especially since the other three players were women and I was not about to quit first.

By the next morning, however, I was battling a sore throat, sneezing, coughing and the annual question: Is it a cold, allergies or both?

Then a gummy vitamin intended to improve my health removed my dental bridge on a Friday morning.

With soup suddenly serving both medical and dental purposes, I explore old-fashioned cold remedies ranging from honey and onions to goose grease, mustard plasters and Terry’s peroxide gargle—all while awaiting Monday and my dentist.

After a week away from the microphone, Ted returns to explain how a stubborn head cold interrupted his podcasting plans—and how his generosity passed that cold to someone else in the household.

Once recovered, he resumed resealing the driveway, only to have a North Idaho rainstorm wash away part of the fresh sealer.

The experience offers a reminder that forecasts fail, circumstances change, and our plans must be held with an open hand.

Ted also hints at stories exploring the Inland Northwest, beginning Wednesday with the mysterious disappearance of a one-eyed Cocolalla lumberjack. Did he just leave town—or was he murdered?

A new school year begins with fresh lesson plans, clean bulletin boards, unopened gradebooks, and teachers determined not to smile for two weeks.

But the newness soon gives way to missing pencils, tardy students, hallway scuffles, discipline referrals—and the mysteries of school lunch.

Drawing on twenty years in the classroom, Ted remembers the excitement, frustration, and humor of returning to school.

Beneath it all is a deeper truth: teachers plant seeds they may never see grow. Success cannot always be measured by grades, test scores, or immediate results. Sometimes we plant, someone else waters, and God provides the growth.

In part 2 of our conversation about angels Bruce, Harold and I continue to share stories and thoughts about angels. Sometimes they intervene. Sometimes they influence. Sometimes they nudge us. Sometimes they whisper to us.

But they are always there to protect us...usually from ourselves.

Join us as we ponder the angels in our lives...human and nonhuman!

Our conversation about angels lasted nearly an hour and twenty minutes—and apparently some listeners have lives outside of listening to my podcast! After receiving favorable responses to splitting last week’s Notebook into two shorter episodes, I decided to try it again. This special conversation will be presented in two parts, each approximately 30 to 40 minutes long.

In Part 1, Bruce joins Harold and me to share the remarkable story of the motorcycle accident that nearly took his life. Badly injured and in desperate need of help, Bruce believes an angel intervened at exactly the right moment. But surviving the accident was only the beginning of the story. We conclude Part 1 with something of a cliff-hanger, as Bruce’s pastor confronts him with a far more personal concern—not merely about his physical recovery, but about the condition of his soul.