Both of my grandfathers were dead before I was born, but my Pop befriended an old southern gentleman who had a small farm that we loved to frequent. He had been a professional baseball player in his youth (mostly Texas League, but he did have a very short stint pitching for the Philadelphia Athletics) and he knew Ty Cobb and Tris Speaker. Gosh he had the stories! He was also a coon hunter and trapper. His coon hounds were legendary in the area (near Williamsburg, VA) and I fell in love with them. I still recall the names of those dogs -- Music, Driver, Sputnik, and Stupid. Stupid was my favorite, and he went squirrel hunting with me and my brother, much to the chagrin of my surrogate grandfather. I can still hear him telling my Pop (with a wink and smile), "Gawden, them boys dun ruint my dawg." When he died his widow wanted to give me Stupid, but my parents thought he would not do well kept in a small yard. It was hard for a 7 year old boy to take.
The influence of that gentleman was profound on me, and I can still remember so many things about him to this very day, even though I was very young at the time. Thank Gawd for good memories.
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“Every day I wonder how many things I am dead wrong about.”
― Jim Harrison
"'I promise you,' he said, 'on my word of honor, I won't die on the opening of the bird season.'" -- Robert Ruark (from The Old Man and the Boy)
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