Goodbye Tommy old friend

I have been away trying to to take care of some health problems,I have lost fifty pounds and my blood pressure is a lot better I have been able to cut the medicine in half. My diabetes is under control and I hope to be off the medicine for that by my next birthday, I am walking five miles a day and have removed all sugar from diet although I was bad tonight and had a chocolate chip cookie. Sugar, I do not miss all that much but I do miss my fried chicken and cornbread. But anyway I got some bad news yesterday a friend of mine was killed in a car wreck and during my walk tonight
he was on my mind. Tommy came to work with me at Loxley Brothers body shop when he was eighteen years old, I was twenty three. We became friends instantly. He and his wife became regulars at my house on the weekends playing cards.Tommy even took up hunting with uncle Ken,Dad and me. Even when Tommy moved on to anther shop we remained on the same bowling team and worked firework's shows around the fourth of July for several years after. Then him and his wife split and he disappeared for a while.
One of my favorite memories of Tommy was his first rabbit hunting trip with Ken, dad and me. Tommy was near Uncle Ken when he jumped a rabbit and pulled up his gun and fired at the rabbit, a clean miss. Uncle Ken quickly ceased the moment and said Tommy we do not shot at the rabbit on the jump we call the dogs over and get them started on the track and let them run the rabbit around. Tommy apologized and we moved on. A couple of hours later Ken and Tommy stopped for a cigarette break and while standing together a rabbit jumped next to them and Ken quickly swung his gun and killed the rabbit. Tommy said hey man you were suppose to call the dogs and let them run, that what you said. Ken looked at him and said hell Tommy you believe a word I said and started laughing loudly. Tommy shaking his head and I see that how it is.
On another hunt in January muzzle loading season for deer we were hunting together on my farm and I ran six or seven deer toward Tommy, they just about ran over him. I asked him why he did not take a shot? He said he did but his gun did not go off.
Later at dinner with uncle Ken, Tommy was telling the story to him . Uncle Ken said Tommy I know what you should have done, and Tommy asked him what? Uncle Ken said son you should have just throwed the gun over in the creek if it won't shoot. Tommy shaking his head and laughing with us.
I have not seen Tommy in over twelve years, the last time being the Friday afternoon he quit working for me I gave him his paycheck and he never returned from dinner. He did call me on the phone about nine years ago and apologized for walking out on me. Tommy said he was in rehab and was in the process of trying to get his life back together and wanted to talk to me we talked for over an hour. A day or two later I found out that Tommy had been arrested and had been living in a trash dumpster about three blocks from my house.
I have remained in contact with his ex wife thru the years and seen his two sons.
And the week he was released from prison his ex wife called me to let me know when he would get out and that I would probably be one of the first people that he contacted, but he never did. He was just forty two years old. I have often thought of friends that pass thru our lives. Friends that are apart of our lives for just a short time, and we may not see or hear from them for years at a time. But remain in our hearts and memories for all time.

The Garden of Eden

My grandparents Curt and Sarah Belle Brewer had an arranged marriage by the plantation owner, in Breathitt county Kentucky. Sarah had just graduated the 8th grade on a Saturday and he came in and told her and her grandmother that next Saturday she would marry Curt Brewer, they had never met.They married and had 11 children. Curt was a farmer and a logger he was a buyer of timber for the plantation owner. As he moved around he always had to rent a place with at least two house’s one for his growing family and one for his elderly father Esau and his step mother Elizabeth. Everywhere the moved the land owner always had rules on what livestock they could keep and what they could grow. This was during the great depression and times were hard.
My aunt Carmie has told me many stories thru the years as of today she is 89 years old and still remembers them like it was yesterday. She told me one night a beggar came knocking at the door It was way up in the night , they had been some killings at that time in Breathitt county also known as Bloody Breathitt. My grandfather asked him what he wanted and he asked for some bread crumbs for his children and wife but wanted nothing for himself .He asked my grandmother if they any they could give them she said she a little they could spare as back then they saved every scrap. They gave them what they had and told them they could stay overnight in the barn and they did.
In the summer of 1939 they moved to Baptist fork of the Stillwater creek in Wolfe County to a farm that Curt brother Willis Brewer had bought for the back taxes. It was 226 acres and a paradise to my grandmother. As my aunt Carmie tells me the only way to get to the farm was up the creek as there was no road, probably about a mile maybe mile and half. My uncle Ken was a baby at the time and when my grandmother got to the farm with him in her arms she thanked God for their home. You see this was the Garden of Eden to her. She was able to keep her chickens and ducks and grow whatever she needed for her family. But for some reason my grandfather hated it he also hated the ducks. you see the ducks get in the creek and they leave the water dirty with their feathers and oil and the work mules are fussy when it comes to drinking water I am told. One night my grandfather came in mad and told Belle pack up we are going back to Breathitt County. Now according to my aunt my grandmother was sitting at the dinner table sipping coffee from a tea cup with a broken handle she never looked up and no Curt my children and me are staying here I will write Willis in the morning he let us stay you can leave if you want to. Now this is the first and only time my aunt said that grandma had ever spoken up to him about anything. Well not another word was ever said about going back to Breathitt County. They purchased the farm with their second season profits 2700.00 dollars. They were not rich, by any means but they were able to produce everything the family needed with canning vegetables raising hogs and chickens and ducks for their feathers for beds and pillows and their eggs and meat.
I am not sure what year the road was put in but it was no longer after the war. The state told the people living up in the holler that if they would build the road the state would maintain it. So my grandfather Brewer Nathan Hatton and my grandfather Robert Lee Patton went together and hired a man with a dozer to build the road. Now the years after the war times were good my grandfather Curt had made a little money selling tobacco and sourghrom molasses as during the war sugar was rationed and hard to come by. And now they had a road he went into the timber business. Now it was my understanding that everyone wanted to work for him not only did he pay every Saturday but they got fed as back then it was customary they ate dinner {lunch for you city people} and they loved eating my grandmothers cooking. Things were very good until his death in 1956. The business just folded and my aunt and uncles were in the process of moving away to Dayton for factory jobs and now that Garden of Eden is now going back to the forest and the wild turkeys. Land that at one time had 3 houses and supported as many families; my grandmother lived there until the farm house burned down. My mother lived there with her when she was pregnant with me and after I was born we moved to Dayton. In later years she moved back to the farm in a mobile home that my uncle Ken purchased for her this was the early 70’s. I spent one glorious summer with her. She never owned a T.V. never listened to the radio. I can still see and hear her in my mind every morning she would sit in her rocking chair and comb out her long hair and put in a bun on top of her head, she would whistle and would rub my back and tell me how much I reminded her of my grandpa. My uncle ken and aunt Carmie tell me that I am more like him than anyone in the family. That summer I have some of my best memories of her she told me that when she first married my grandfather that she would walk into the woods with him in the evenings with him and sit while the waited on a squirrel to come into range for supper. One evening she was fixing supper and I walked by the stove and I asked her Grandma what are you fixing here for supper she said I am heating up some corn for supper for the leftover chicken from dinner, I said grandma these are peaches on the stove, she ahhhhhh. She was just about blind by this time but still stayed by herself must of the time she kept everything organized she knew where everything was. A day or two after that I killed my first rabbit, I was so thrilled and went running to show grandma, once I got there I said grandma I am going to go up to Uncle Arnold’s and see if he will show me how to clean him. She you do not need Arnold, come over and give me you knife and I will show you, you just have to be my eye’s, well she went to work and I want to tell you to this day that old blind woman to this day I cannot clean a rabbit as fats and clean as she did that day, all she asked was did she get all of its guts out, and said yes grandma. As I got older I found out that when any of the family went hunting and brought back any game that they did not clean it , they brought back to the house and she did all the cleaning. My aunt Carmie also tells me about when her first child was born my cousin Cindy that her milk did not come in and she asked the doctor what to do? The doctor told her to take the girl to Belle as she had just give birth to my father Porter just a couple of weeks later, it always struck me as funny that my dad and his older niece where breast fed at the same time.
The year my mother Pearlie Lived with her they became close friends. My sisters still say my grandmother was right when she said, right after my mother came upon a copperhead snake in the garden and she believed I would be retarded because the snake had scared her so.Even after my parents divorced she came of every year and would stay a couple of weeks with us. She once told my little dog that she was going to pinch off his nose if he did not stop barking as he did at night when she was going to bed as she would put on her night scarf overhead. My dad was dating another woman and was going to marry her and he was telling my grandmother about it one day when I was thought to be asleep and my grandmother told him now son you do what you think you have to do but I am telling you no one will take the place of Pearlie and those kids in there.
The last time I seen her it was about 3 weeks before she passed away she had moved back in with my uncle EC. In Campton Kentucky. Mom stopped and let us kids see her and she was telling mom about these headaches and little explosions in her head mom told her she needed to see a doctor and she said she would . she gave my baby sister a doll that she had, and was rubbing my back telling me how much I reminded her of Curt and that she would not be around much longer, I said grandma you will be here to see my son, she hugged me and said she loved me. She was gone just 3 weeks later she had been having a series of small strokes. I have in later years discussed her life with my uncles and aunts everyone always said how hard my grandfather worked and he did but she worked much harder you see my grandfather never worked on Sunday or If the weather was bad but she had 3 meals to prepare everyday she grew the vegetable garden and preserved all the food laundry on a wash board carrying water, not to mention raising 11 children. She once told my mom that sometimes she got so lonely in the holler by herself that she would wind an old clock for company to just hear it tick.

Baptist Fork of the Stillwater creek

This spring has been tough on this old Appalachian American. First Tari found out that she is a diabetic. And in the last month the doctor put me on high blood pressure medicine and then this past Thursday they put me on Diabetes medicine also. It has been a blow to my superman mentality.
But I had a remedy of my already planned, a hunting trip to the garden of Eden, Baptist Fork of the Stillwater creek in Wolfe county Kentucky. There I spent three days hunting for wild turkey and visiting with my family.On Saturday night my Uncle played the guitar's and we sang all the bluegrass gospel favorites.We ate good country food and talked and caught up with each other's lives's. I felt more at home and ease this trip than any other since my grandparents passed away. I want to thank Uncle Bob and Aunt Evelyn for that it really meant a lot to me. On Sunday Uncle Bob came in with a big Gobbler, I did not kill one but I seen eighteen turkey's in three days, just could not get one in gun range. But I had more fun hunting this spring than I have in a long time. Saturday morning five big gobblers came in the bottom I was hunting but just out of my vision until I stepped out of my blind. I drooped down to my belly and spent the next forty minutes crawling over briar's and thru thickets and in the mud in a monsoon rain trying to get in range. I managed to get within about eighty yards before they seen me and hit the woods. I had a blast!!!
I have always enjoyed hunting the Brewer family farm two hundred and twenty six acres
of Appalachian paradise.
I started my recovery Friday morning not just the diabetes medicine but a dose of peace and continment by returning to where my parents and I were born, our roots are deep in the Garden of Eden which is Baptist fork of the Stillwater Creek.
I think I need another dose Of Baptist already, Turkey season is still in for three more weeks.

Coffee, Catfish,and a strawberry smelling hound

Out on the porch with a cup of coffee about six thirty a.m. waiting on the sun to come up as well as listening for a big ole gobbler to give his position away. As the night fades to daylight I decide to go for a walk threw the woods and around the ridge. I was looking for some turkey sign or where some were roosting or possible a shed antler or two, but all I found was spring showing up as the woods where turning green again. Which was a very welcome greeting after such a long cold winter. As I made my way out of the woods I came out by my pond and noticed that some fish were hitting some around the edges. It surprised me a little as I thought the water was still a little cold. So I thought lets find out and I walked back to the cabin and got a mason jar full of fish food and another cup of coffee. I returned to the pond and cast out a hand full of food and sat down on a block of wood and waited for the show to begin. The Bluegills hit the food first, which rang the dinner bell for the big Channel Cats. The water begin to boil from, the feeding, I spent the next thirty minutes feeding the Piranha like catfish. Then my stomach told me I had better get some Breakfast too. I started back to cabin and got The Little Boy and drove down to Uncle Ken’s house to pick him up and take to breakfast with us. After dropping of Uncle Ken and shooting the breeze awhile Kenny Ray and I had to get back to the cabin we had some work to do. My apple trees came in the mail this past week and had to go in the ground, as well as a brush pile had to be burned and just some general clean up. We got the trees planted and half way through the brush burning it began to rain. Kenny Ray made his way to the truck and I tended the fire. When it got down small enough I hollered at the Little Boy to come on and bring his ole stinking dog as we had to go over in the woods and take my deer tree stand down and I wanted to put a trail camera. It was about two o’clock when we returned to the cabin for dinner and just as we walked onto the porch it began to down pour rain, like a tall cow pissing on a flat rock. I then fired up the grill and fixed hotdogs and brats for dinner. After dinner I told Kenny Ray he was going to have to give ole Jack a bath as he was beginning to smell like an outdoor shithouse. So he gave the dog a bath and I went and took a nap while it continued to storm. After I got up the dog was dry and I sat out on the porch with a cup of coffee Kenny Ray said Dad let’s go fishing this evening, which we did. But the Little Boy regretted that as the old man beat him like a drum, four hand size Bluegill to two puny five inch Largemouth bass. We fished to almost dark till we could no longer see our bobber’s. We returned to the cabin, where Kenny Ray laid on the couch and read a book, and I returned to the porch with a fine cigar, a glass of bourbon, some Bluegrass music and a Beagle Hound that smells like strawberries.

Goodnight from the front porch of paradise

There is nothing I enjoy more than sitting on the front porch of my cabin. And tonight has been special, as I have been sitting here since about nine thirty p.m. With a fine cigar and a glass of Wild Turkey Rare Breed, straight Kentucky Bourbon and Kenny Ray’s Beagle hound, Jack at my feet, and he his snoring a little. Kenny Ray is in bed asleep. There is a quarter moon and the sky is full of stars and to the south I can see a storm moving in, as there are flashes of lightening across the every few minutes. I have some bluegrass music playing a mix that I made some of my favorites. At this moment in time the world is perfect. It is past my bedtime as it is now twelve twenty a.m. and the fog has started to roll in and I must say goodnight to the frogs that have been singing along with Sweet Appalachia. I hate to go as I enjoy it so. But I look forward to the morning sunrise, as I will be on the porch with a cup of strong black coffee to greet the beginning of a new day just as I said goodnight to this one.

My woods overlooking three generations of Brewer's

I just came in from walking my woods and looking it over. I put a piece of Sassafras on the fire and hung my wet clothes on a chair next to the wood stove and my boots and socks up next to it to dry, I hate wet cold feet. I got me my supper a can of Potted meat and crackers and a cup of black coffee and sat at my desk to write. As I write the sound of the pop and cracking of the sassafras in the heat stove and the rain pounding the metal roof is very relaxing.
As I walked this evening thru my woods I reflected back threw the twenty-five or so seasons.
That I have hunted critters, dry land fish {morel mushrooms}, shed antlers, and Poke salad greens and myself. I have rode four wheelers, cut firewood and shared jokes with friends and family.
Each season in the woods something special is revealed. In spring they come alive they turn green as leaf buds burst open as if a rose, and the creek is once again a babbling brook almost deafening at times. The woods are full of life. The birds are singing, the occasional gobble or yelps from the turkey’s, or the squaking of a squirrel in the distance. My favorite parts are the symphony that the crickets and tree frogs put on every evening. The warm southern is breeze is fresh and time to begin anew.
The summer time the woods come alive at sunrise with the birds singing but as the heat increases the woods become quiet. All the rustling leaves in the warm breeze high overhead. This is the time that the Black Raspberries and Black berries turn ripe and ready to pick. The babbling brook is no more it has dried up as I lay there on its banks and look up at the passing clouds and wonder has anyone ever laid there before, to nap and dream of the past and things to come.
The fall my favorite time to be in the woods, I feel sorry for anyone who has not seen the sun rise from a tree stand in October they have missed life itself. To be there in that moment just before sunrise when it’s the darkest and the coolest. It ‘s like the temp drops a couple degrees and some how the black of night gets a shade blacker and the stars get just a bit brighter. The feel of the sunshine never felt better on your face and shoulders. To see the sunlight reflect on multi colored leaves as peeks thru the tree tops. The woods have such a wonderful smell somewhat like freshly plowed ground. And just then the wind brings in a hint of wood smoke from a nearby farm, and the scent stirs my soul. Then to watch the woods come alive, to watch a squirrel jump on a stump and eat hickory nut or hear one in distance. And then you hear a crunch in the leaves behind you and you become all ears and eyes is that a deer. No just another chipmunk they sound like elephants at times. The October woods like no other bring my senses alive it is a great time to be woodsman.
And then the winter with a white coat of snow on the ground and the complete silence.
It can be so quiet, that at time your ears hurt. The thrill of placing of a trap at the special place at the creek and the anticipation of what might be the next day And the lonely sound of the wind that ever blowing, never-ending wind out of the north,
My woods are a part of me they have give me food in every season from maple syrup and Poke salad to Paw paws and Persimmons. Fried squirrel, deer back straps to a thanks-giving turkey. They have watched me in my youth and now my middle age. They have looked over my son since he was eighteen months old and our first hunting, picnic trip together. They provided him snakes and toads as well as an occasional tarpin to catch and all the big game a four year old with a bb gun and a black lab puppy could invent. And they watched over my father in his twilight of his life with just him just sitting and listening to a beagle hound run a rabbit. I hope they will someday watch over my grandson and teach him the way of the woods just maybe he will nap and dream beside a creek in my woods in the warm summer breeze or sit in my favorite tree stand and find himself as I did. Even now as I draw to close here at my desk in the half-light of dusk the woods are peering thru the windows as the lonely wind blows. And trees are waving goodnight and goodbye to an old dear friend.

Happy birthday you lucky man

Well another birthday come and gone. Forty six down and only God knows how many left, I hope another thirty anyway.I do not know how it will end but I found out tonight how it started . My mother came over tonight to wish me happy birthday and was telling Kenny Ray about the morning I was born. I was born in Campton Kentucky
in Dr. Maddix clinic about six thirty a.m. and that evening mom went home with me and my grandma Brewer. In those days there was no central heat in that old two story farm house and the only heat was a stone fireplace with grate, and it was the front room as well as my grandma,s bedroom. Mom told Kenny Ray how that night she and I shared the big old feather bed with my Grandma.I think Maybe that is why my mother and grandma Brewer mean so much to me. I was the last of the grandma Brewers grandchildren to spend their first night in that old house. In a handmade feather bed and under a handmade quilt and kept warm with love.
I am a very lucky man my life started with the love of my mother and my grandma,
and as I go to bed tonight I am am still kept warm from the love of my wife and son, and still the love of my mother. And my grandma who I know watches from Heaven.
Life is like an alarm clock, you can only wind one time and you do know when it will quit. so tell that some one you love them. you may not get another chance.