Wednesday, March 4, 2009
SHORTEST POST IN BLOG HISTORY: #59
Have you ever cleaned out an outdoor outhouse? That's all I'm saying 'bout that!
OLD SPORT AND OLD BESSIE: POST #58
We lived in a perfect spot at Herman Junction for people to drop off their unwanted animals and invariably they would come to our house for provisions since it was the only house right on the highway. I couldn't begin to count the animals that came to our house and there was no way for us to keep them so I would chunk rocks at them and run them off. I guess that I wasn't any better off than the people that dropped them off in the first place. But, with ten people to feed there wasn't much left for the dogs and cats from all over the country.
But, one dog came and I fell in love with him. I named him Sport. I really loved that dog and I am proud of a picture that I still have of Sport and me. He would wrestle with me just like another youngster would and I taught him a lot of things. The thing that I liked the most about him was that he would go a long way across the field and bring the cow, Old Bessie in for milking. I would just take him out to the edge of the field and tell him to "Go get Old Bessie", and he would take off and in a few minutes they would be back to the house. It sure saved me a lot of walking and I liked that.
I don't remember what happened to Old Sport. I know that he died of course, but I don't remember when. But, I do know one thing---"If dogs have a heaven, there's one thing I know; Old Sport has a wonderful home." Does that remind you of a song that Gene Autry used to sing and even Elvis recorded? It was about "Old Shep" and I have cried a river of tears listening to that song. Don't deny it now, you have too!
Then, there was Old Bessie. She sure supplied milk and butter to a lot of hungry Knight's. I have churned a lot of butter and didn't mind it at all because you could sit and do that. I also loved that milk after it was cold. One hasn't lived until he has a big chunk of corn bread crumbled up in a glass full of good milk.
Have you ever noticed that nearly every old cow in those days had a name and most of the time the name was "Old Bessie"? I have even seen one or two in TV shows that were given that name. I wonder why? I have known several nice ladies named Bessie or Bess. I wonder if they know that there is a big herd of cows scattered all over the place named after them? Or, forgive the thought, but could it be that they were named after the cows? I'll try to see that this doesn't get into the hands of a woman named Bessie.
But, one dog came and I fell in love with him. I named him Sport. I really loved that dog and I am proud of a picture that I still have of Sport and me. He would wrestle with me just like another youngster would and I taught him a lot of things. The thing that I liked the most about him was that he would go a long way across the field and bring the cow, Old Bessie in for milking. I would just take him out to the edge of the field and tell him to "Go get Old Bessie", and he would take off and in a few minutes they would be back to the house. It sure saved me a lot of walking and I liked that.
I don't remember what happened to Old Sport. I know that he died of course, but I don't remember when. But, I do know one thing---"If dogs have a heaven, there's one thing I know; Old Sport has a wonderful home." Does that remind you of a song that Gene Autry used to sing and even Elvis recorded? It was about "Old Shep" and I have cried a river of tears listening to that song. Don't deny it now, you have too!
Then, there was Old Bessie. She sure supplied milk and butter to a lot of hungry Knight's. I have churned a lot of butter and didn't mind it at all because you could sit and do that. I also loved that milk after it was cold. One hasn't lived until he has a big chunk of corn bread crumbled up in a glass full of good milk.
Have you ever noticed that nearly every old cow in those days had a name and most of the time the name was "Old Bessie"? I have even seen one or two in TV shows that were given that name. I wonder why? I have known several nice ladies named Bessie or Bess. I wonder if they know that there is a big herd of cows scattered all over the place named after them? Or, forgive the thought, but could it be that they were named after the cows? I'll try to see that this doesn't get into the hands of a woman named Bessie.
Sunday, February 8, 2009
DREAMS AT HERMAN JUNCTION:POST #57
What in the world does a boy from Herman Junction dream about? I mean, does he just intend to spend the rest of his life at Herman Junction picking cotton? I suppose that when I was very young that was about all that I had in mind for myself. Oh, I would stand in the cotton patch and watch the trains and cars go by and wonder where they were going and wish that I could catch one of them some day and find out the answers to those questions. But, until I got in my teens I never thought much about doing anything except living at Herman Junction. I remember My Lady and I were in Bay one time and wanted to just go out and walk around the streets in town. We met Howell Morrison coming down the street and we stopped and visited with him. Howell said, "You know, Hook, everyone always wanted to hurry and get away from Bay. But, I always wanted to just stay here." And, he did and not long after that he died right there where he had always lived and I suppose he was as happy as could be.
When I was out of school in the summer between my Junior and Senior years in high school I went with brother Rayburn and some guys from Harding to work for the Del Monte Canning Company out in the fields harvesting English Peas. We lived in a bunk house and worked long, long, hours every day. We made $1.00 per hour and that was the most money that I had ever made in my life. Sometimes when I would just give completely out, Ray would do my work for me and let me rest awhile. I remember one night that he and some of the other guys went in to Deklab, Illinois to the White Castle Drive-Inn to get hamburgers. I ordered one but when they got back I was sound asleep and I never knew what happened to my burger.
But, it was during this time that I began to dream a little. I dreamed about cars, dating My Lady in my own car, going to Harding in the fall, and a lot of other things. I had begun to learn that there was life outside of Herman Junction.
Then between my graduation from high school and beginning at Harding in the fall, I went to Michigan City, Indiana and C. W. got me a job with him at the Weil-McClain Company for the summer. I liked that job and I really began to dream about the future.
Dreams are good and they help to motivate us to go on to better things. I think that I have gone on to better things but the memories of Herman Junction still live in my heart and they always will.
When I was out of school in the summer between my Junior and Senior years in high school I went with brother Rayburn and some guys from Harding to work for the Del Monte Canning Company out in the fields harvesting English Peas. We lived in a bunk house and worked long, long, hours every day. We made $1.00 per hour and that was the most money that I had ever made in my life. Sometimes when I would just give completely out, Ray would do my work for me and let me rest awhile. I remember one night that he and some of the other guys went in to Deklab, Illinois to the White Castle Drive-Inn to get hamburgers. I ordered one but when they got back I was sound asleep and I never knew what happened to my burger.
But, it was during this time that I began to dream a little. I dreamed about cars, dating My Lady in my own car, going to Harding in the fall, and a lot of other things. I had begun to learn that there was life outside of Herman Junction.
Then between my graduation from high school and beginning at Harding in the fall, I went to Michigan City, Indiana and C. W. got me a job with him at the Weil-McClain Company for the summer. I liked that job and I really began to dream about the future.
Dreams are good and they help to motivate us to go on to better things. I think that I have gone on to better things but the memories of Herman Junction still live in my heart and they always will.
TRAINS AND STORM HOUSES: POST #56
My Dad loved trains and I did too. Dad worked on the railroad for Sixteen Years and even though he loved it, he often said that if he had continued working on the railroad he would not have lived as long as he did. It was really hard work. I liked trains too but you know, I have never ridden but one little train and it was not a very long trip. Someday, I want to take a good long ride on a train. Barbara's mother heard that they were not going to continue with passenger trains through Bay so she put My Lady and her little brother and sister on a train to Jonesboro and drove along the highway in the car waving at them just to let them ride a train. She was a great Mom.
Dad would be in the cotton field later or out on a job as a carpenter and he would hear a train coming through. He would always look at his watch to see if 'old 96' or whatever the train was, was on time. Our Son Marty still has a smashed nickel that Dad gave him and took him down to the tracks and put it on the rail and let the train mash it flat. He loved trains to the day that he died.
Another thing that Dad got into was building concrete storm houses. I told you earlier about him building one at our house but part of it was already built. But, I suppose that it was after one of the real bad storms came that Dad built a set of forms and began building concrete storm houses. There are many of them still across the country in Craighead County Arkansas and some of the storm houses are still standing even though the house itself is gone.
Building a concrete storm house is WORK! I helped him build some of them and just thinking about it now makes me tired. All of those forms had to be bolted together and tied with wires in some places so that they would be able to hold all that concrete. Then on the top and down the sides there were steel rods put in there so that storm house would be there when the Lord comes again. But, he wanted them to especially last through any kind of storm.
When the forms were all set he would start the concrete mixer and mix the gravel, sand, and water until it was just right. Then, the fun part would start. He had already built a runway about thirty feet out from the storm house up to the top. He would pour the wheel barrow (wheel Barr) full of that concrete and it was my job to push it to the top and empty it down the sides until we had it all filled up and the top poured. The sides and top were EIGHT inches thick. I tell you right now that was some job! But, I did it all day long and into the night several times, up and down that runway with that load of concrete. I got to be a mighty strong man during those times. Today I couldn't go up that runway with a snuff can full of concrete but I did then. I weighed about 250 pounds when I was doing this and I cannot imagine now what I ate when I got home from one of those days. After the concrete would set a few days we had to go and remove the forms and he would be ready to build another one.
"Hard work never hurt anybody" they say. I have heard that all of my life. Well, if you believe that, just go out and build yourself a concrete storm house and see if it hurts. It won't be long until you call one of these companies that makes these new-fangled storm cellars and have them come put one in for you.
I like to go down to Herman Junction and every time that I do, I look out at that first storm house that Herb built and thank the good Lord that I don't have to do that anymore. That one at our house helped to make Herman Junction alright.
Dad would be in the cotton field later or out on a job as a carpenter and he would hear a train coming through. He would always look at his watch to see if 'old 96' or whatever the train was, was on time. Our Son Marty still has a smashed nickel that Dad gave him and took him down to the tracks and put it on the rail and let the train mash it flat. He loved trains to the day that he died.
Another thing that Dad got into was building concrete storm houses. I told you earlier about him building one at our house but part of it was already built. But, I suppose that it was after one of the real bad storms came that Dad built a set of forms and began building concrete storm houses. There are many of them still across the country in Craighead County Arkansas and some of the storm houses are still standing even though the house itself is gone.
Building a concrete storm house is WORK! I helped him build some of them and just thinking about it now makes me tired. All of those forms had to be bolted together and tied with wires in some places so that they would be able to hold all that concrete. Then on the top and down the sides there were steel rods put in there so that storm house would be there when the Lord comes again. But, he wanted them to especially last through any kind of storm.
When the forms were all set he would start the concrete mixer and mix the gravel, sand, and water until it was just right. Then, the fun part would start. He had already built a runway about thirty feet out from the storm house up to the top. He would pour the wheel barrow (wheel Barr) full of that concrete and it was my job to push it to the top and empty it down the sides until we had it all filled up and the top poured. The sides and top were EIGHT inches thick. I tell you right now that was some job! But, I did it all day long and into the night several times, up and down that runway with that load of concrete. I got to be a mighty strong man during those times. Today I couldn't go up that runway with a snuff can full of concrete but I did then. I weighed about 250 pounds when I was doing this and I cannot imagine now what I ate when I got home from one of those days. After the concrete would set a few days we had to go and remove the forms and he would be ready to build another one.
"Hard work never hurt anybody" they say. I have heard that all of my life. Well, if you believe that, just go out and build yourself a concrete storm house and see if it hurts. It won't be long until you call one of these companies that makes these new-fangled storm cellars and have them come put one in for you.
I like to go down to Herman Junction and every time that I do, I look out at that first storm house that Herb built and thank the good Lord that I don't have to do that anymore. That one at our house helped to make Herman Junction alright.
Saturday, January 31, 2009
FARMERS: POST #55, JAUNARY 31, 2009
I am thankful that I grew up on a farm at Herman Junction. No, I didn't like the work in those days but now I look back with fondness and even to some extent long for a return to some of those days. I have known a lot of great people who chose farming for a vocation. Our country around Herman Junction was full of fine men who farmed for a living. They never got rich but they worked hard against bad weather, boll weevils, weeds and grass, and a lot of other things and provided for their families well.
I've talked about Booie Woods. What a farmer he was. He had a 'B' Farmall tractor that had the seat over on one side and the front wheels spread far apart. He kept two things on that tractor at all times. (1) A box of snuff. (2) A box of Arm and Hammer baking soda. The snuff gave him heart burn and the baking soda relieved it. I can see him today as he drove that tractor through the field or pulled a wagon load of cotton off to the gin and would flip me a dime or quarter to open the gate for him. His philosophy differed sharply from the other farmers. As I mentioned earlier, he would turn out the cows, pigs, geese, and everything to eat the grass out of the cotton. I didn't know anyone else who did that. But, he made a very good crop every year and was more well off than we there with his chrome dinette set and new TV. He also had a new Ford truck that I admired a lot.
Jim Norwood, Clarence Rodgers, Opp Rodgers, the Faulkenberry men, and the Furnish's all farmed near our home. Now, the houses are all gone. I remember also the Spencer boys and their farming. Some of them still farm at Bay and it seemed that every year one of the Spencer boys would bring in the first bale of cotton and they probably still do. Cecil Ashlock was a prominent farmer that we worked for some. Later his son, Ernie (Buck) took over the operation and farmed until he died far too young.
Today one of my favorite people is Carrol Wayne Morris and he has farmed big-time for many years in Mississippi. His wife Myra taught school until she retired. It has amazed me to hear Carroll talk about how many bales of cotton that they pick nowadays in just one day. Our whole family worked really hard to pick one bale a day and sometimes we failed. Farming sure has changed. Carroll took me out to a farm one day and showed me a cotton picker that costs $450,000! I thought, "Man if I had $450,000 I wouldn't buy a cotton picker with it" but that just show how little I know about farming.
I wish that I could literally go back to Herman Junction for just one day and see all those farmers in the field making their crops. BUT, I DON'T WANT TO CHOP NOR PICK ANY OF IT!
I've talked about Booie Woods. What a farmer he was. He had a 'B' Farmall tractor that had the seat over on one side and the front wheels spread far apart. He kept two things on that tractor at all times. (1) A box of snuff. (2) A box of Arm and Hammer baking soda. The snuff gave him heart burn and the baking soda relieved it. I can see him today as he drove that tractor through the field or pulled a wagon load of cotton off to the gin and would flip me a dime or quarter to open the gate for him. His philosophy differed sharply from the other farmers. As I mentioned earlier, he would turn out the cows, pigs, geese, and everything to eat the grass out of the cotton. I didn't know anyone else who did that. But, he made a very good crop every year and was more well off than we there with his chrome dinette set and new TV. He also had a new Ford truck that I admired a lot.
Jim Norwood, Clarence Rodgers, Opp Rodgers, the Faulkenberry men, and the Furnish's all farmed near our home. Now, the houses are all gone. I remember also the Spencer boys and their farming. Some of them still farm at Bay and it seemed that every year one of the Spencer boys would bring in the first bale of cotton and they probably still do. Cecil Ashlock was a prominent farmer that we worked for some. Later his son, Ernie (Buck) took over the operation and farmed until he died far too young.
Today one of my favorite people is Carrol Wayne Morris and he has farmed big-time for many years in Mississippi. His wife Myra taught school until she retired. It has amazed me to hear Carroll talk about how many bales of cotton that they pick nowadays in just one day. Our whole family worked really hard to pick one bale a day and sometimes we failed. Farming sure has changed. Carroll took me out to a farm one day and showed me a cotton picker that costs $450,000! I thought, "Man if I had $450,000 I wouldn't buy a cotton picker with it" but that just show how little I know about farming.
I wish that I could literally go back to Herman Junction for just one day and see all those farmers in the field making their crops. BUT, I DON'T WANT TO CHOP NOR PICK ANY OF IT!
SCHOOL TEACHERS: POST #54
I haven't written much the last couple of weeks. There are a couple of reasons why. I got my Flu shot some time ago and thought that I would not have any problems this winter with the flu, a cold, or any such thing. I was WRONG! I have had a terrible sinus infection and felt rotten. Also, I tend to forget things more and more these days. Some days I can't seem to remember my name. And, then some days I can't seem to remember my name. But, maybe I can get back on track for at least a few days.
When I lived at Herman Junction we went to school at Bay. As I reflect upon my school days I am made to remember some really good times and good people. I especially remember some fine teachers. I never had any idea how much they would mean to my life later on and if I could have had my way I would have just stayed at home and passed school up. I have mentioned before Miss Una Pounds who taught everyone from the days of Noah on down in the first class of their schooling. What a kind and gentle soul she was. I moved on up in grades through the years and I remember Miss Helen Reed who later married Claude Montgomery who chewed the calf's ear nearly off. I recall Mrs. Holmes, Mrs. Montgomery in the Fourth Grade and J. P. Taylor who was my teacher in the Sixth grade. J. P. had a little nephew or somebody who called him P. Joe and so I will never forget him. He later married Miss Jennie Sue Cooper, another one of the teachers. As I moved into Junior High and then Senior High I had a lot of teachers but one stands out in my mind. I listed her as my favorite teacher when I was a Senior. She was Mrs. Gatewood and she taught bookkeeping and I loved it. One of the highlights of my schooling as far as grades were concerned was when she gave me an A+ and wrote on my report card, "Outstanding" and I really liked that. I liked working with numbers and still do. Maybe that is why when someone counts the attendance at church I always come up with about 40 more than they counted because I was good with numbers you see. I also like Miss Carol Burns who taught English. I wish that I had studied more diligently in English class but I think that I studied the teacher more than the English. She was pretty and very much a lady. In my senior year she really encouraged My Lady to marry me one day and told her that she would make a great preachers wife. How did she know that I might be a preacher? Boy, nobody else seemed to think that.
Probably the most influential man in the school to me was Arthur Cooper, the Principal of the High School. Maybe that was because we spent so much of our time together in the sweat room. Although I incurred his wrath a lot of times, I respected him so very much. Many years later when I went back to Bay to preach, Mr. Cooper was there and was very gracious and kind in his comments about the sermon. He was another one who seemed to know that My Lady and I would get married and surprisingly he encouraged her in that union as well.
Good teachers have such great power in molding the lives of young people. Today they have a lot of duties that takes time from their teaching and that is sad. I know several teachers today who are just waiting for the day when they can retire because teaching school 'ain't what it used to be.'
My hat is off to you, teacher friend, and may you have no students like I was!
When I lived at Herman Junction we went to school at Bay. As I reflect upon my school days I am made to remember some really good times and good people. I especially remember some fine teachers. I never had any idea how much they would mean to my life later on and if I could have had my way I would have just stayed at home and passed school up. I have mentioned before Miss Una Pounds who taught everyone from the days of Noah on down in the first class of their schooling. What a kind and gentle soul she was. I moved on up in grades through the years and I remember Miss Helen Reed who later married Claude Montgomery who chewed the calf's ear nearly off. I recall Mrs. Holmes, Mrs. Montgomery in the Fourth Grade and J. P. Taylor who was my teacher in the Sixth grade. J. P. had a little nephew or somebody who called him P. Joe and so I will never forget him. He later married Miss Jennie Sue Cooper, another one of the teachers. As I moved into Junior High and then Senior High I had a lot of teachers but one stands out in my mind. I listed her as my favorite teacher when I was a Senior. She was Mrs. Gatewood and she taught bookkeeping and I loved it. One of the highlights of my schooling as far as grades were concerned was when she gave me an A+ and wrote on my report card, "Outstanding" and I really liked that. I liked working with numbers and still do. Maybe that is why when someone counts the attendance at church I always come up with about 40 more than they counted because I was good with numbers you see. I also like Miss Carol Burns who taught English. I wish that I had studied more diligently in English class but I think that I studied the teacher more than the English. She was pretty and very much a lady. In my senior year she really encouraged My Lady to marry me one day and told her that she would make a great preachers wife. How did she know that I might be a preacher? Boy, nobody else seemed to think that.
Probably the most influential man in the school to me was Arthur Cooper, the Principal of the High School. Maybe that was because we spent so much of our time together in the sweat room. Although I incurred his wrath a lot of times, I respected him so very much. Many years later when I went back to Bay to preach, Mr. Cooper was there and was very gracious and kind in his comments about the sermon. He was another one who seemed to know that My Lady and I would get married and surprisingly he encouraged her in that union as well.
Good teachers have such great power in molding the lives of young people. Today they have a lot of duties that takes time from their teaching and that is sad. I know several teachers today who are just waiting for the day when they can retire because teaching school 'ain't what it used to be.'
My hat is off to you, teacher friend, and may you have no students like I was!
Saturday, January 10, 2009
HIGH TEMPER: POST #53
There are some things that a fellow who is about 7-8 years old just finds hard to understand. I had never heard the term, "High Temper" until I was about that age and I had no idea what it meant until it was used to describe something that I had just seen. At Herman Junction we lived next to a man who farmed quite a bit of land and we share-cropped with him. Dad worked on the railroad but he and the older boys worked making a crop and working with our neighbor, Mr. Claude Montgomery. Mr. Montgomery was a fine man but he had some peculiar ways that I didn't understand at all.
One day Mr. Montgomery's cows got out of the fenced in lot where he kept them. I guess that Mom or one of the boys saw him out chasing cows all over the place and so they ran to help. Cows were going in every direction, in the railroad ditch, up on top of the railroad, and right down the middle of old highway 63. Finally Mr. Montgomery caught one of the cows that was not yet fully grown but was not just a baby calf either. He tackled that calf, threw him down on the ground, and nearly chewed his ear off! I was shocked. I could think of ways to punish that cow maybe, but not by chewing his ear almost completely off. I just stood there like a stump! I suppose that I wondered what he would do to me if I displeased him in some way. After getting all out of that ear that he wanted, he let the cow up and it went straight to the lot where it was supposed to be. Little wonder! I suppose that I would have straightened up too. Well, when we discussed that later Mom said, "He has a "High Temper". So, now I knew something new.
I saw another example of Mr. Montgomery's "High Temper" later. One day his tractor would not start. He worked on it for some time and tried to start it and it wouldn't start and then he would do that again and again. After several failed attempts at getting the tractor running, he stood back from the tractor a little, took a big monkey wrench and beat the tar out of that tractor motor. He broke things all to pieces. It still didn't start! You know I have wanted to do that with my car or some other thing that wouldn't run when I wanted it to, but I have never followed through with it. I don't know what he did nor how much it cost him but I do remember the tractor running later.
A high temper never accomplishes good. I remember having a "High Temper" myself as a younger fellow. One time I kicked a hole in the wall of our living room. I don't remember why I did it. But, I will tell you that I was dreading when Dad got home and saw that busted wall. You know, he didn't do anything to me about it but he said, "If I had been here I would have made another hole with his head."
I have since noted that there was something funny about my 'High Temper" and I suppose that the same thing is true of most people. It was easy for me to lose my temper with my little sisters and brother and maybe with others who were younger and smaller than me. But it seemed that I could always control my temper in other situations. It seemed to me like a six foot, three inch, 153 pound guy didn't have any business losing his temper with a 200 pound six foot, three inch guy. For the life of me I cannot remember ever losing my temper with Waylon Russell, Winston Holmes, Bob Inboden, or a lot of other guys that I knew. It seemed so much easier to control my temper under those circumstances. Maybe it was because I loved my teeth too much. So, I have tried through the years to bring my high temper under control and I have made some good progress. And, when I do lose it, I don't try to find some cow so that I can chew his ear off. If I am around Herman Junction I send for Jack to take care of the problem for me.
One day Mr. Montgomery's cows got out of the fenced in lot where he kept them. I guess that Mom or one of the boys saw him out chasing cows all over the place and so they ran to help. Cows were going in every direction, in the railroad ditch, up on top of the railroad, and right down the middle of old highway 63. Finally Mr. Montgomery caught one of the cows that was not yet fully grown but was not just a baby calf either. He tackled that calf, threw him down on the ground, and nearly chewed his ear off! I was shocked. I could think of ways to punish that cow maybe, but not by chewing his ear almost completely off. I just stood there like a stump! I suppose that I wondered what he would do to me if I displeased him in some way. After getting all out of that ear that he wanted, he let the cow up and it went straight to the lot where it was supposed to be. Little wonder! I suppose that I would have straightened up too. Well, when we discussed that later Mom said, "He has a "High Temper". So, now I knew something new.
I saw another example of Mr. Montgomery's "High Temper" later. One day his tractor would not start. He worked on it for some time and tried to start it and it wouldn't start and then he would do that again and again. After several failed attempts at getting the tractor running, he stood back from the tractor a little, took a big monkey wrench and beat the tar out of that tractor motor. He broke things all to pieces. It still didn't start! You know I have wanted to do that with my car or some other thing that wouldn't run when I wanted it to, but I have never followed through with it. I don't know what he did nor how much it cost him but I do remember the tractor running later.
A high temper never accomplishes good. I remember having a "High Temper" myself as a younger fellow. One time I kicked a hole in the wall of our living room. I don't remember why I did it. But, I will tell you that I was dreading when Dad got home and saw that busted wall. You know, he didn't do anything to me about it but he said, "If I had been here I would have made another hole with his head."
I have since noted that there was something funny about my 'High Temper" and I suppose that the same thing is true of most people. It was easy for me to lose my temper with my little sisters and brother and maybe with others who were younger and smaller than me. But it seemed that I could always control my temper in other situations. It seemed to me like a six foot, three inch, 153 pound guy didn't have any business losing his temper with a 200 pound six foot, three inch guy. For the life of me I cannot remember ever losing my temper with Waylon Russell, Winston Holmes, Bob Inboden, or a lot of other guys that I knew. It seemed so much easier to control my temper under those circumstances. Maybe it was because I loved my teeth too much. So, I have tried through the years to bring my high temper under control and I have made some good progress. And, when I do lose it, I don't try to find some cow so that I can chew his ear off. If I am around Herman Junction I send for Jack to take care of the problem for me.
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