Burritos

I had a dream last night... it was a dream of your silly faces that you always made at me - flashing in and out, in and out. It probably went on for a good couple hours (but only seemed like a few seconds). It was nice to see your smile, again. I miss you buddy!

I remember the time you called me up at work and asked if I wanted Chipotle. I absolutely wanted a burrito, but only because you would come to see me in action (I actually had already eaten). When you showed up you had that silly "well here I am" look, with two paper bags in hand! It was funny. Mom hadn't eaten yet, and I knew it... so I pretended to give Correy a hard time for not thinking about bringing one for mom and gave her the bigger half of mine. Correy felt much better then that I did that.

I later told him I had already eaten, but I hadn't seen him in a while... since he was always working and diving and going school now-a-days. I was happy to have spent time with him that day, just joking and being the Correy and Ashley that we were.

Oh....I wanted to tell you a little story that happened on Correy's birthday.

by Heidi Haggard Moorefield


I was having lunch with my friend Debbie and was telling her about Correy's story after seeing the posting for his birthday that morning. And this little boy who looked just like Correy did when he was three came running up to our table and just looked at me with his big blue eyes, big smile, all teeth and said "Hi". His mom calls him back to their table, she says, "Corey, leave those people alone and get back over here". Well I just about fell out of my seat, because THAT little boy looked like the spitting image of your Correy, it just gave me the chills all over. I just had to share that with you....I thought it was pretty cool. I know Correy did not know me, but I think he knows that I care. I almost felt like that was a sign to let me know he knows that. :)

He wrote

Fishing for Air

By Correys Dad

Correy helped me for over 4 years on a Search & Rescue Team in the Sierras. August 8, 2005, Nita Mayo went missing:

NITA MAYO’S DISAPPEARANCE:

Nita Mayo left her home in Hawthorne, Nev., the morning of Aug. 8. The 5 foot tall 140 pound 64-year-old nurse planned to take a day trip over the steep and winding Sonora Pass in California, possibly to go shopping in small villages along the highway. Nita Mayo never made it home. Nita’s car was found about 2½ hours from her home at the Donnell Vista Overlook which is on Hwy 108 about 12 miles east of Strawberry, CA. The keys were locked inside, but she could have opened the door with a keypad. Nita's purse, wallet and cell phone also were in the car. She had her camera and was wearing prescription sunglasses.

Members of the general public who may have been in the local area of Strawberry California on August 8^th 2005 or have possible information on the case are urged to call Deputy Ed Warnock, of the Tuolumne County Investigations group at (209)533-5815

Friday, July 28, 2006 at 08:49 PM in Nita Mayo | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBack (0)

We spent countless days/hours searching for her, we were even on Americas Most Wanted show, just a brief shot of us. Correy never complained of the long, hot hours we put in, the area where her car was found has steep 900 foot cliffs which rise above Donnel Reservoir below. One of our search weekends we rappelled & climbed back up the cliff faces numerous times searching for any clues that may be in crevices of the cliffs face. The prior Winter some brainless person stole ALL of the guard railing at this Vista site, so the Vista was deemed unsafe & closed to the general public. We were given permission & a key to the gate at the Vista by the U.S. Forest Service so our search teams could access the cliffs. At the end of a 4 day search we were pretty tired & run down, we decided to set up some funny pics of us sitting at the Vista fishing in the reservoir below. Now if you haven't been there the reservoir is 900 feet below the Vista platform & about 1000 yards from the cliffs face, so basically, unless your super human & have a trunk full of fishing line you can't fish from where we were. Correy & I set up pics of us sitting in a chair holding a fishing pole. I can't tell you the looks we got from people who wandered into the closed area & seen us. No telling what they must of thought. A few asked if we caught any fish & we replyed we almost had our limit, they left shaking their heads thinking we were a few strings shy of a spool.The new railing is now up & this is open once again to the public. Every time I go up in the Sierras I stop in there & remember that time we were "FISHING FOR AIR." To this day, going on five years later, Nita Mayo is still missing, we will continue our search this Summer for her again! I know Correy will still be right there with us searching!

Why Correy

By Miranda Herrington

I feel like I need to write this. Coincidently it turns out that while I was reading the book "My Sisters Keeper" a boy named Correy died, he was 22. Vanessa is one of my mom's good friends and Correy was her youngest son. I'd met him before, it was shockingly painful whenI heard the news. I cried that night with my mom thinking that it wasn't fair that he died. He was such a good guy he was sweet, caring, funny, he was so many things that these words don't do him justice. He died in a diving accident and no can explain exactly what happened not even the coroner. Correy was so many things to people he was a brother, a friend, a man who was in love, a little kids best friend, and a son. The day I finished this book was the day of Correys funeral. I was balling my eyes out the entire day. There so many thoughts swimming in my head: why Correy?It's not fair he was living his life the way all of us should be trying to with vibrant energy and loving God. I don't think that this pain will go away anytime soon but I know I am going to thank God for every breath that I breathe because I never know when it will be my last.

Standoff at the Sonic

When Correy and I were driving back from New Mexico (as discussed in a prior post), we stopped for some refreshments at the Sonic in Gallup, NM, which is an outpost on the edge of civilization. We got some tater tots each, and each ordered a soda with one of the yummy flavors for which Sonic is famous. If I recall correctly, I got a Dr. Pepper with Vanilla, and Correy ordered a Coke with the same Vanilla. So this little thing, couldn't have been older than sixteen (going on 12), brought out our food and drinks. Afterwards, she just kind of stood there for what seemed like five minutes and stared at us blankly, like she wanted a tip of something. Uh, thank you, thank you. Only problem is, they don't get tips there ever; it is kind of against the rules (and it is fast food after all). I only mention this because it bought us time to sip our drinks as we alternated between staring at her staring at us and giving each other WTF looks.

Correy said to me, "Dude, I don't think there is any flavor in here," referring to his Coke. It was not the happy hour when all flavor is free, so we had actually paid for it. As the waitress girl started walking away, Correy hollered at her. "Hey I don't taste any flavor in here." Instead of the customer-is-always-right apology, she just gave him the stink eye, sighed, and then... asked to see the receipt!!! I had already crumbled it up and tossed it in the back of the car. As she stood tapping her foot (literally), we rifled through the backseat crap and found it. Still, the waitress chick asked, "Are you sure there is no flavor, I am sure they put it in." Seriously? Fiiiinnaallllly, she stomped off to have another soda made, this time with vanilla.

Besides this girl's penny pinching craziness, the funniest part of this escapade is that three sips after the girl left to go inside, Correy says to me: "Umm, I totally taste the vanilla flavor now, must have not been mixed good." Of course we bust up laughing, and then zip our lips with shit-eating grins the second the newly made drink is delivered. And oh did they put more vanilla than soda in the new soda (along with some spit probably).

Satisfied, we jetted off in the Jetta, Correy drinking his original Vanilla Coke and tossing the vanilla spit-laden one in the trash as we drove out into the desert.

Lost City of Atlantis

Story by Steve "Centaur" Wilson

I worked with Correy in the WVC dive program, as most of us had, but the first time I went diving with him outside the dive class I took him to my favorite dive spot, Wharf #2 near the Monterey Harbor. As we weaved our way through the pilings I looked back at him and he was beaming from ear to ear as though he had just discover the lost city of Atlantis, or at least the city of gold...hehehe!!! I love the area because diversity of life, being the biologist I am, and when we got back to shore he had salvaged two or three rods and reels he wanted to refurbish, thus I found out why he was smiling so wide...he had found his favorite underwater emporium....HAHAHA!! Well we went back another day this time we took Mikey Teng, Lindsy, and Pete, and between he and Mikey they salvaged about half a dozen rods and reels. They wanted to go back for a second sweep, but it was late in the day so we decided to pursue the other favorite pastime of divers...EATING...HAHAHA!!!

We Ain't No Lumber Jacks!

By Correy's Dad
A few years ago on an Opening Trout Season trip they had a late snowfall the week before we arrived, the sun was out but every piece of fire wood on the ground was saturated with water from the snow. It looked like we would have to actually purchase firewood from the local store for the first time.
We were camping at Eureka Valley Campground, about 6500 feet in the Stanislaus National Forest, a favorite campground of our family. The mountainous rocks are behind us & the river nearby, it don't get any better than this. Correy & I camped at the first campsite nearest the rocks, it has lots of shade and also the rock mountain within a stones throw behind us.
As we surveyed areas for firewood everything on the ground was too wet, I looked about 100 feet up on the rock mountain behind us & seen a few 30 foot downed, dried trees. I scaled the rock wall with a rope in tow & climbed up to the tree laying on the rocks just above our camp. Correy attached the other end of the rope to our chainsaw. I pulled it up & started cutting 4' diameter rounds off the downed tree, I cut 5-6 large rounds.
Now the tricky part was to get these down below to our camp with destroying something, seems to be a common denominator in Fedor camping trips!
Just to paint the picture for you, I'm about 100 feet up a rock mountain, with 5-6 large, heavy, round, yes round, this means these can roll VERY FAST & FAR! Correy is away from the bottom of the mountain, our van is about 20 yards away, our camp is about the same.
Our idea is to push the large wood rounds off the cliff, they land below & we just roll them into camp, split them, INSTANT dry firewood...so we thought.
The first round lands below & starts rolling towards camp, it spins & comes to rest about 10 feet away, pretty cool. The next couple of rounds do a similar pattern, one Correy had to chase & bring back. I sent the last 2 rounds over the cliff at the same time, I found this was NOT GOOD!
One careened towards Correy at top speed, he started running from it, but it seemed to have a homing beacon on him, wherever he went it followed, Correy finally dove to the side as it continued across camp over the edge right into the river. At the same time a second wood round headed right for the side of our van, it was going to be a direct hit, 7 feet from the van it hit a pot hole in the ground & changed course, now headed for our tent, it side swiped a tree & was now headed for the outhouse, it hit with such force, it moved the outhouse a foot off its perch.
After laughing hysterically for about 20 minutes we gathered all the rounds in camp, except the one in the river, it's probably in some other town by now.
As we enjoyed the great campfires we had from this wood, Correy said, WE AIN'T NO LUMBER JACKS!

Correy lived in Alaska?????

By Correy's Dad

I heard many people at Correy's service & afterward at the house that asked us if we ever lived in Alaska or if Correy did? It seems Correy has quite a story of living in Alaska, I wonder if it came after our Spring snow opening trout season trip? We went up years ago after the worst, coldest winter ever on record & the latest heavy snow for Springtime. Usually when we go up fishing for Opening Trout Season, the end of April or first Saturday in May, there is snow up in the upper mountains and a few patches in the campsite. This one year all the way down at 3000 feet there was already snow, by the time we got to our usual camping spot at 7000 feet it was a winter wonderland. 4-6 feet of snow & up to 10-14 foot drifts. All of the picnic tables were under 8-10 foot snow drifts. The outhouses were completely covered in snow, they stand at least 8 feet tall, we could make out the angled roof on the snow. We had to lower ourselves down to go to the bathroom. Correy thought we would have to sleep in the van or go home. I said nope, we are going to build an igloo, having built a few over the years. The snow has to be just right, icy, thick & cold!
We took out a wood hand saw & a flat shovel. We cut rows of blocks about 18" x 18", used the flat shovel to pop them out about 8" thick. We layed out our bottom circle then built on that, less than an hour we had our igloo. Correy got fancy & cut in shelves inside to store stuff, you build a small fire in the center & cut 1 small hole in the ceiling, the smoke goes straight up through the hole due to the extreme cold vs. heat. We only caught one fish that entire 4 days, the rest of the time we build different types, shapes of snow structures & laughed at people driving by looking at us funny & shaking their heads like we were crazy. We also snow boarded anywhere & everywhere, including jumping the 2 lane highway from side to side on the snowboard. I think Correy liked it so much that he created his Alaska story years later, for all intensive purposes it was just like Alaska!!! WELCOME TO ALASKA!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Correy as "SMOKEY BEAR"

By Correys Dad

Back at our old Family Community Church I was doing a Fire Safety program for the childrens group, they had a camp type theme going on. Usually I wear the Smokey Bear suit, but on this occasion I was doing the classroom talk about Smokey & Fire Safety & I needed someone to do "The Bear." Correy volunteered, it was three separate programs about 35 minutes each. Once Correy put on the suit he became "Smokey Bear", he had all the looks & movements down. By the second program the kids would sing & act out a song, before you knew it Correy was boogieing in the Smokey Bear suit to the music. He really enjoyed it & did a few other Fire Safety programs with California Department Of Forestry.

Learning stick shift in hostile Injun country

     Correy learned to drive like Jarred and I did - on the highway and back roads of the Stanislaus National Forest, from about age 12 on. And Correy, as most will attest, was a pretty solid driver with an automatic transmission; however, Correy behind the wheel of a stick is a whole different matter.

     Correy flew down to Albuquerque New Mexico to help me drive back to Portland Oregon following a month I spent down there doing disaster medicine stuff and eating green chile breakfast burritos. We had no driving plan, just figured we would switch off whenever. I drove us out of  the ABQ and west towards the edge of nowhere. Exactly on the edge of said nowhere is a town called Gallup, NM where there is a Sonic Drive-In (a fun story from there will come a different day). After we filled up on delicious sugary flavory sodas there, I thought it about time for Correy to drive. After all, the road ahead was exceptionally flat and desolate, easy drivin. Little did I know Correy's complete lack of experience in driving a stick shift. When I invited him down, he said "Oh sure, I've driven a stick before, no problem." What he didn't mention until that fateful day was that he had driven a stick before... once, briefly.  Needless to say we needed a bit of a crash course, and in a hurry.

     We coasted backwards out of the spot, and managed to chug our way across the parking lot into a gas station lot before stalling. It took about eight F-bombs and fifteen minutes to back out of that spot again under power. Eventually... eventually... we made it to the driveway and rolled (after stalling) into the middle of the road. One restart later, we were officially underway and quickly out of Gallup.

     Leaving Gallup is not just leaving a city, it is leaving the United States of America. No joke. Correy was to test his driving meddle on the reservation of the Navajo Nation. This is, by all white-man accounts, very dangerous country, with people (mostly drunk bored teens) that will rob you and beat you up and steal your car if you so much as stop to take a picture (let alone break down in a black cloud of shredded transmission). And here was Correy tooling along, stripping my gears, accidentally revving up the engine of my poor and dying 200K+ mile Jetta. And don't even ask about the cars he passed against oncoming traffic.

     Perhaps the more hairy times came when we reached a quasi-town on the reservation, where Navajos were walking about, their sketchy police eyeballing us as we rolled through. Then there was a traffic light! Which means we had to stop, and worse yet... GO AGAIN! Oh please Correy don't stall here, don't stall here. Gratefully my real-time coaching kept us moving every so slowly so as to not actually require first gear, which may have meant certain death in the desert the way we had been going.

     Two close call streetlights later and we were again off into the flat desolate badlands of the rez, where only fifth gear was required. Correy managed to get us all the way through Navajo country and to the relative safety of some white trash redneck hamlet back in the US of A. But it was close, and we drove on singing along to old Dixie Chicks tunes at the top of our lungs, glad to still have our scalps.