Buckshots

     My birth certificate reads, George Reavis Sappenfield, III (Bucky).  My father was George Reavis Sappenfield, Jr. and my grandfather was George Reavis Sappenfield.  My grandfather’s little brother, called Buck, died shortly before I was born and they tacked “Bucky” on my handle to avoid confusion with the other two.          When my grandfather was a kid, his grandfather George Washington Sappenfield, was around.  So they addressed my grandfather as Reavis, which was his mother’s maiden name.      We all called my grandfather, Reavis, even his grandchildren (I am not sure why there was no grandpa, pa-paw or other name).  It was a more formal relationship.  All my life my own father was more like an older brother who pushed his will onto me.  My grandfather, Reavis, would intercede on my behalf and my father would acquiesce to his will.         I recall being at...

     I followed the path of many parents when their children want to complain about their lot in life.  When my sons would complain about whatever ailed them, my best retort was, “Did I ever tell you what I got for my fifth birthday?”      My little brother, Bill, was born two days after my fifth birthday.  I told the boys my parents were too busy with the birth and all I got was a dime.  The dime wasn’t even from THEM!  A little girl down the street gave me the dime.  She wrapped it up in a little box .  You think you have it bad… did I ever tell you what I got for my fifth birthday?  They would groan…. YES you got a dime.      Years later, my wife and I were visiting my parents in Texas.  We were driving down the streets of Whitesboro to visit my father and I pointed out the house of the girl who gave me the dime.      Nancy said, “Wait a minute!  You were in Whitesbor...

     I grew up without air conditioning, but no one had air conditioning.  Generally I would go to bed in a house still hot from the blazing Texas heat and wake up on sweat-soaked sheets.      As a boy I spent the night at a friends house.  His parents had an air conditioning window unit in their living room and his mother let us sleep there for the night.  We awoke the next morning and she gave us a glass of orange juice and ice tea.  We sat in front of that AC, watched cartoons and sipped this heavenly drink in amazing cool comfort.  I thought I had died and gone to heaven.  From that moment on, I vowed my life’s work would somehow be in an air-conditioned environment.      In the mid-60’s our family went to the new North Park Mall in Dallas.  We entered the north side of the center by JC Penney and my parents bought us an Orange Julius.  We set on the bench in the mall, in the air conditioni...

     In 1957, our 2nd grade class was in competition with every other class at Jefferson Elementary to sell unneeded merchandise to family and friends on behalf of the PTA.  This meant putting the arm on everyone you knew to buy wrapping paper, greeting cards and candy.  The class selling the most got to knock off for an afternoon and go see a movie at the Texas theatre in downtown Sherman.        We went about the task with gusto and proved to be the most aggressive group at school, outselling all other grades by a wide margin (or perhaps our parents yielded under the pressure more readily).  We won and the movie was the recently released Disney epic “Old Yeller”!  Parents were called upon to drive us to the theatre, to chaperone and drive us back to school.  Fellow pupil Joe Price's mom gave each child a quarter for treats while viewing the movie.  Twenty five cents bought a lot of candy and we were all giddy wi...

     For the first 5 years of my life, I enjoyed being spoiled by 10 grandparents.  I had 4 grandparents, 4 great grandfathers, 1 great grandmother and a great great grandmother, who was so old she literally witnessed Geronimo’s surrender in Lawton, OK, in the old west days.   Her dad, my great great great grandfather was named Crandall and founded Crandall, Texas.        Crandall’s daughter, my great great grandmother was Stella Sappenfield, after she married George Washington Sappenfield.  We called her Ma and she appeared to be around 150 years old, even though she was in her 90's.  She was very kind to me, but she was hell to my grandmother, mother and any other woman around the household.  I loved being at her house in Whitesboro, TX, because I could get away with murder in front of my parents and they could do nothing.  She defended me, told my folks they were too rough on me, asked me to stay the night, gave me...

     During the 90’s I made a couple of trips a year with my friends, Charlie “Doc” Hinson and Chester DeMary, to our friend Harry Shier’s cottage on Georgian Bay in Canada.   We would fish, play cards, drink some fine wine, eat wonderful food, tell stories and relax.     We generally made these trips in the spring and again in the fall, prior to the weather turning harsh and driving everyone off the lake and back to town.      We made one such trip late in the fall and I brought along a half gallon Wild Turkey bottle, filled with jalapeños, vinegar and spices.   This I utilized on eggs, grits and other foods for a great, extra kick.   When l presented it to Harry, he did not understand how it was to be used and directed his cook to fish out the peppers,  placing a few on my plate for every meal.    Not wanting to be thought of as a sissy, I ate these peppers for about three days at every meal.     ...

    I attended a one room private first grade, Protestant Day School, because my parents wanted me to start school before my 6th birthday in December.  Otherwise, as required by the public school rules,  I would have to wait until the next year.  (In retrospect, I think they wanted me out of the house and from under foot).         It was a converted old house (no air conditioning) and a pretty simple affair with a total of around 20 children.  I recall it was hot, but pleasant and we enjoyed giant crayons, pencils and Big Chief tablets.      On one occasion we returned from recess and discovered there was not a yellow crayon in the room.  An odd little boy named Francis had stayed inside and eaten them all.  I didn’t think too much about it, but soon after Francis was transferred to a different school and never heard from again.         Our elderly teacher died the ...

     The truck moved slowly through our neighborhood playing music and featured a hand painted sign with an eerily smiling man on the side.    The lettering above his scary face said, “The Goody Goody Man”.          It took a long time for me to figure out the driver was selling ice cream.  I thought he just drove through town playing pleasant music.  After I saw children chasing him down, I joined the fray and begged my mother for a nickel to buy a popsicle.         Available nickels were rare and had to be planned for in advance.  It is hard to see your friends buy ice cream and you could not because you had no money.  The only worse feeling was buying a popsicle and your friend couldn’t because they had no money.  We split a lot of popsicles, but it seemed someone was always left out and it’s hard to enjoy the treat if not everyone is participating.  If my friends had ...

     In the early 50’s my family moved to 808 N. Willow Street in Sherman.   This was a house, converted into a duplex with remarkably thin walls.   The kindly Mexican-American Aleman family lived on the other side and included the parents, Pete and Helen, along their children Abraham, Abel, Rebecca, Israel (Izzie) and David.  All older than me.  The Aleman’s and we were all packed into close quarters and tight sleeping arrangements.        In the mornings, we could hear through the thin walls and the daily rousing, scratching, body noises and exclamations of Abel as he arose for another day.    He would sigh, groan,  mutter expletives 4 or 5 times before I would hear his feet hit the floor.    The wall might as well have not been there and I realized they could hear everything in our household as well.          When the home was divided, the Aleman side got the bathroom...

     One of the highlights of a slow, hot, non-air conditioned summer in Sherman, Texas, during the 50’s was Vacation Bible School.  I worked out the timing of all the different church offerings and hit as many as I could.  There were plenty of pretty girls, air conditioning, activities, air conditioning, singing, air conditioning, stories, air conditioning, crafts and refreshments in air conditioned comfort.   Our home had no air conditioning…no one had it and I sought it out in any possible form.  It was hotter than an oven in Sherman in the summer months.  We rarely took a vacation and the Vacation Bible School circuit (regardless of the denomination) was an opportunity to escape the blazing heat and bask in the glow of Christian love, cold air and iced refreshments.         I began the circuit with our own Key Memorial Methodist Church.   On the first day, much to my dismay, we were herded outside into the fu...

     When I think of the significant family members growing up in Sherman,  I am always think about our Scotty dog, Heather Mary.  She was a constant source of affection, joy and protection in my childhood.     Heather Mary came to us once after my mother took debris to the Sherman, Texas, garbage dump.   Heather was a spry, fully grown Scotty dog, already a bit hefty and stinky.   She joyfully ran to my mother, wanted her tummy scratched and insisted on getting in the car when mother was ready to leave.  She had no tags and we felt she must have been abused because she was so grateful for any food and affection.      Heather Mary moved in and lived with us for the next 18 years.  Heather was protective of we three boys, accompanied us as we delivered papers,  went to cub scouts or played in the school yard.   If we  wrestled with friends or played football, we had to put Heat...