Hello to all. I am going to do something different today. If you like this post and would like to read more of my stories Please let me know. Wayne
When I was young there was no TV sets or Video games; we got electricity when I was six and half years old. We had an icebox to store our food in; the iceman would come by the house delivering ice from a truck, once or twice a week. We used kerosene lamps for our lights. I remember when the REA started to install the electric lines into our area, only to stop at my aunt’s house. We had to wait six months for them to install the lines on to our house, which was only a half-mile away. We had no car but we had a wagon that was pulled by a team of horses.
My mother and daddy would entertain us with stories. A lot of Dad’s stories would be about his family. He was a great storyteller as was his mother and I am proud to say that I have carried on that tradition. They had so much of our family history in their heads, I wish they would have written it down but since they didn’t, I am glad that they left me with a lot of oral history. I have taken that oral history, added to it and now I am writing it down. I remember when I was 15 or 16,Dad childhood friend Tom Powell came to visit us. I was setting on the floor listening to them tell stories about growing, I though to my self that I would never have any thing interesting to tell when I grew up, well as you can see I was wrong.
I would be walking with Dad around Winona, MS and Greenwood, MS when he would stop and talk to someone that I didn't know. I would ask who was that he would say "that your cousin so and so." He knew about so many of our family lines and who were our kinfolk.
I remember when I was about 11 or 12 we went with my grandparents to a homecoming at a church around Sweatman-Red Hill in Montgomery Co., MS area. At lunch they had some long tables set up and as I stood by my Granny that day just about all the "old" ladies would hug me. As a young boy I didn't really like all that hugging, now I wish that I could hug them all again because most if not all were kin to me. They would tell me to bring my plate over to their tables because they had something good for me to eat.
At a 1990 family reunion my first cousin Homie Parker Holly said she wanted to know more about Dr. Charles Hemphill since her dad was named after him. I then said that I too would like to know. The next year Homie started the search and sent me some copies of records she had found at the courthouse in Wathall, Webster Co. MS. That when I caught the genealogy bug. The genealogy library in Houston, TX was on my way home from work. I was to spend many wonderful and fruitful hours there before we moved from Houston. I use the Internet now not only to do searches but also to correspond and exchange information with old and new found cousins.
It really amassing the changes that I have seen in my lifetime from using kerosene lamps to using the computers on the Internet.
My mother told me about one year that it was so cold that the ponds froze over, my grandfather cut the ice up into blocks put them into a shed and packed saw dust around them. Because the storm had come early that year, they had some watermelons that they hadn’t ate, so mother and her sister hid one in the ice stack and got it out for a Christmas surprise that year.
One year when I was about four or five, Daddy was going to help make sorghum molasses and I wanted to go but he said there wouldn’t be anyone to watch out for me and that I must stay at home. I was mad and crying but that didn’t get me anywhere either. Mother then asked me if I would like to make some peanut butter. I can still see Mother as see showed me how to put the peanuts in a meat grinder. I learned how to turn the handle and grind the peanuts as we made the best peanut butter that I ever ate.
Daddy knew the location of trees that held wild honeybee’s hives and he would rob them to get their honey. I would go with him but was never allowed to get close to the tree, I would watch from behind another tree at a safe distance away. He would smoke them out but if any stung him that didn’t hurt him. My brother James can get just one sting and he will swell up big time. One time Daddy and a group off his friend spend most of the day robing bee hives. My friend and I got to go with them in a wagon pulled by a team of horses. The men keep telling us to watch how we ate the honey cones as some of the bees were still in the cones. But being kids you know that went in one ear and out the other. Till we both got stung on our tongues, then we believed.
Trains
I don’t remember when I saw my first train it seems that they were always there.
When I started to school, we were living in a small town in Arkansas call Postelle and I rode a school bus to Marvell. I remember one time when my Dad met the school bus, it was a very cold day and we had to cross the railroad tracks on the way home. There was a train waiting on the siding with a steam locomotive and I wanted to get a real close up look at it. We had came upon the rear of the train as we started walking toward the locomotive the Conductor stepped down from the caboose. My Dad called the Conductor by name. He stopped and looked at Daddy and said “Your face is familiar but I don’t remember your name” Daddy said “Yes you should know my face because you kicked me off of many a train”. After hearing my Dad name, the Conductor broke out laughing and said, “Well how are you doing? You old hobo.”
They were talking and catching up on old times as we walked forward, by the time we got to the locomotive. The Conductor called out to the Engineer “I have you a little visitor for you”. The next thing I knew they were picking me up and I was in inside the cab of the locomotive. I was, as they say, in hog heaven at that moment. On the way home I forgot real fast how cold it was for I was on cloud nine.
Over the years my Dad would entertain us for hours with his stories of the Depression years. We learned the difference between a hobo and a tramp. A hobo would work for food and a tramp would not.
We had moved to Greenwood, MS in 1952, then back to Winona in 1954. While we were living in Greenwood, My father and mother took us down to the depot to see the steam Locomotive make it’s last run.
Growing up in Winona, I would always wave at the train crew and they would wave back. I can still hear the sounds of the crowds when the trains would come into the Winona station. From our house sometimes we would walk to town on the railroad tracks, this was not something you would do barefooted as we found out on one hot summer day so long ago. We would sometime see who could walk the longest on the rail without falling off.
One time Daddy and I had to go to the doctor in Grenada, we rode up there with one of his friends who worked in Grenada. Daddy told him that if we were not at the bus station that afternoon we had already gone home. We got right in and out of the doctor office that day. I had never ridden a train before but that day I started to get an idea in my head. The plan when something like this. First get Daddy to go to train station just to see the trains, get him close to the ticket booth and then to ask him if he missed riding the rails. I got my courage up to ask him if we could ride the train back to Winona. You could have heard my shout in Winona when he said yes. That was my first and last ride.
Now over the years I still wave at the crew as the train go by or when I would see one stopped. They never disappointed me for I always got my wave returned.
It was a sad day for me when they took the caboose off of the train.
Replies
I was eight when I got my first Bike. It was a 16” boy’s bike that was forever throwing off the chain. Both Clyde and I learned to ride on this bike.
This story is about the second bike we owned. It was a 26” girl’s bike that we found stored at Granny Parker’s house. After mother died my Uncle Conger let us move into a house that he was building between my grandparents house and my Uncle Charley’s house out in the Scotland community in Montgomery Co., MS near Winona. This bike had belonged to my Aunt Montyne.
The bike was old with two flat tires but other wise in good shape. With the help of the Carpenter brothers, who lived near by, the bike soon had new tires on it. The Carpenter brothers had the Grit paper route at that time. They lived nearby in Carroll Co. They showed me how to repair the coaster brakes, replace the chain, fix flats and make other repairs. I would take the bad part and go to Western Auto Store and they would go to the parts bin and get the part for me later on they would let me find my own parts. We would make many repairs to the bike over the years. One that we didn’t make early on caused a bad accident for my brother Clyde. Part of the foot pedal had broken off and left the centerpiece only. As all my cousins and my brother James and I watched in horror. Clyde had an accident while riding and that centerpiece went through the top of his foot and came out the bottom. Clyde went to the doctor and we couldn’t ride the bike till we put new pedals on it.
While we lived in the country nothing was said about the bike being a girl’s bike but that all changed when we moved into town. The other boys started to make fun of our bike. We decided to get a bar welded onto the frame and paint the whole bike red. We finally wore it out and got a new one but we sure had some fun and got many miles out of The Bike.
My Uncle Charley Parker
You told me you were going to live a long time because your Daddy had lived a long time. Happy birthday number 85.
I remember one time we were talking about hunting and I ask you “Had you ever been lost.” I was expecting a story but you gave a very quick and short answer “No” and after a long pause you said ‘But I might have been turned around a few times.” So when I have taken the wrong turn many times in my travels, I would remember ‘ to say that I was only turn around. Now James and Zula will say that I was lost. More about you’re hunting stories later on.
I will always remember how much you loved your mother and father. When we lived in the country, I remember you going pass our house to visit them each day. When you worked for the city, you would stop in each day. Daddy would visit them each morning before going to work and sometimes he would go over to their house at 6:00 pm. after working overtime only to find they were already in bed.
I remember you and aunt Pauline talking all of us to the drive-in movies and the fun we had there.
I always enjoyed visiting you and aunt Pauline after we moved to Texas. I enjoyed seeing your arrowhead collections as that was one the hobbies that Clyde, James and I shared.
I think you knew where all the fruit trees were located out in the country and you would take all of with you to pick the ripe fruit. One time just you and I went and we got stuck in the sand on the side of the road but you got us out of the sand. Years later I when I got stuck in some sand I knew how to get out.
Speaking of fruit trees, you read the riot act to Clyde, James, Homie, Harris and I because we had broken off the limbs from the huckleberry tree just to get the berries. We never did that again.
You had Homie, Clyde, Harris, James and I help you clean Granny and Pa’s hard wood floors and you made what some would say a chore, a fun thing to do. When we all lived in the country a polecat (Skunk to you city folks) got into your chicken house at night and you killed it. The next morning you asked all of us if we wanted to make some money. We were all for it till we found out we had to get the polecat out of the chicken house. We kids didn’t make any money that day.
We all had so much fun getting together at Granny and Paw house for the holidays; I really miss that now.
We sure had a lot of good food and got to see everybody.
You were still living in the country when you bought your first TV. You came to town and got Paw, Granny, and us so we could watch it with your family. I know you still enjoy watching your satellite TV.
We all know of your love of gardening. I enjoy my gardening, a love I shared with my Dad.
When I was taking history in high school, I ask my dad about you war experience. He told me some of the stories you had told him. In 1964 we were watching the 20th anniversary of The Normandy invasion, I told Daddy that I was going to ask you some questions about the war. He then told me that you didn’t like to talk about it. He then told me some more of what you had told him, I knew then why some of the reasons you didn’t want to talk about the war. I want to thank you now for what you did then.
I know you always love hunting. I know your hunting buddies had to live up to a high hunting standard some of us didn’t always come up to that standard. I won’t list any names but we all knew. You and I went hunting at night one time although I enjoyed being with you; night hunting wasn’t for me.
You always had some bird dogs; I remember the names of Lucky and Lady. I enjoy eating the birds you killed. James has told me he enjoys bird hunting with you.
January 28, 1986
The sound of the loud, anguished and terrified scream that I heard seems to come at me from all sides. I looked around to see who was screaming and why, that when I realized it was me who was screaming.
I had been sitting down just a few minutes before, now I standing up looking down at the floor surrounded by the papers that I had been working on I still couldn’t believe what I just saw. My eyes had seen but my heart and head wouldn’t let me believe it. This wasn’t supposed to happen and yet it had.
The day had started off just like so many before in Houston, Texas. I arrived at the shop, after opening up, checking the messages on the answering machine. I returned my calls and left the others for my partner to call when he came in. I made coffee and turned the computer on. I got my work list for that day and went to my workbench in the repair shop area. I turned on all my test equipment as I was working on satellites receives today. I then turned on the Satellite TV monitor and then the TV set so I could get local Houston stations. I moved the big satellite dish so I could pick up NASA feed as they were going to launch the Space Shuttle today. I got my cup of coffee and the stack of paper work that I wanted to get out of the way before I started to repair the units, I finish the paper work, separated them into stacks to be filed after I watched the space launch.
When the countdown got to T- 10 minutes and counting, I quit work and watched the monitor.
The count down and lift off was prefect. I watched and listen to the audio report of the telemetry information.
Then I saw the explosion with my eye but I still could hear the report of telemetry information. (Which is reported with a slight delay). I could see the Shuttle falling back to earth and the voice still reporting the telemetry data as if nothing was wrong..
I can still remember all the small details of what I did that morning right up to that moment that I screamed. The words that I screamed were” No God! No I don’t believe it!” My eyes saw but my heart refused to believe it.
I was glad that I had finished my coffee because as I picked up the paper from the floor there was my broken coffee cup
The rest of the day I can only remember in bits and pieces.
The space program at that point was so routine that the local TV stations in Houston didn’t cover this launch live. I watched as they broke into regular programming to report on this tragedy.
I remember watching the replay of the accident and each time I hoped it would have a different ending but now knowing in my heart that there could be only one ending.
I tried a some point to call my wife Zula at her job but all I could get was a recording saying “ All lines are busy please try again.” (The only other time that I got that message was during a hurricane.)
I remember being in English class when a teacher I admired came in and whispered something in my teacher's ear. I noticed when she came in something was wrong. She looked and acted as if she had been crying.
He then announced to the class that the shuttle had exploded. We could all learn more about it in science class. Suddenly that was the only thing on everyone's mind. How did this happen? Were there any survivors? What about Christy McCullough (spelling?), the teacher that went up with them?
From that time on everything seemed to be a blur. I had a lump in my throat and stomach that didn't go away. I remember going to lunch and being asked to have a moment of silence for those that perished in that explosion.
After lunch my classmates and I returned to my home room class for science. Mr. Pearson didn't have the TV on. He wanted to explain what happened and prepare us for what the news was showing and talking about. Then he showed us the whole thing. The whole class was stunned in silence. Nothing could have prepared us for what we witnessed on the TV screen. I didn't understand. I had seen lift offs on TV before and nothing happened. The shuttle went up and eventually the shuttle returned with all the passengers in one piece. I don't remember much of that day. It was definitely an historic event that we would not ever forget. As a kid the horrors of that event was unlike anything I had ever experienced until the events of 9-11-2001 took place many years later. But that's for another time.
I was able to watch many, many space launches.
I was at the right place and time to get several behind tours at the Johnson Space Center in Houston, TX. The last one was tour of the mock up of the Space Shuttle.
I also became friends with one of the Engineers who help design the “Moon Buggy” after he had retired.
My dad J.C. thanks for all the encouragement you provided and the praises you gave me. For showing me how to believe in my self when no one else does. For letting me build a workbench along one side of my bedroom. For coming into my room at 2 am and telling me that I was to sleepy to finish whatever project I might be working on and to GO TO BED! For helping me build a shop in our back yard. For not getting to mad when I blew the fuse in the electrical box while you were watching the news. For letting me modify our radio into a short-wave radio. I built my first radio at the age of 13 and my first TV at the age of 19.
Mr. Fred Watts thanks for taking the time to not only to sell me parts but also to answer my questions. Sometimes you would look at my list, go to your ladder climb up to the top shelf pull out a box blow off the dust and there would be what I needed. If you didn’t have it you would order it for me.
Duell Johnson thanks for being my friend, teacher, instructor and task maker. When I told you that my plans of joining the Air Force had fell threw, you told me about a home study course in electronics that I could take. Up to now I had self taught myself anyway so I jumped right in. The course not only taught me theory but also I built my own test equipment another radio and a TV set. I was to take three difference courses before I was through. You would help me understand the theory and then as we worked on radios and TV’s you made sure I learned how to put that knowledge to work in the real world. When I had to got to work a J.A.Olson to support my family, you and my Dad always made that I never gave up my dream to work in the electronics field. When I moved to Houston, TX your highly recommendation helped me get my first job at Infotronices Corp.
Howard Dixon thanks to you I learned how to become a great troubleshooter and use my analytical skill for the rest of my life. When I went to work at Infotronices Corp. you taught me about ICs for that was the future of electronics. I got to be on the ground floor of what would bring us our computers. Thanks also for teaching me about the use of the soapbox.
Winfred Vance Watts, JR
Aug. 18, 1905
Nov. 20, 1989
Thank you Mr. Watts for helping a teenage boy by selling me radio parts.
Your help made what started out as a hobby a career for me.
James Duell Johnson
Oct. 9, 1931
Dec. 31, 2002
Duell I will always remember how much you taught me about electronics and how you helped me get my first job in Houston, Texas. I miss you my friend.
Mother was born on April 25 1922 and died on September 16 1954. Daddy was born on September 26 1908 and died on March 22 1967. Clyde was born on March 5 1948 and died on March 7 1991. James was born on February 1 1952 and today lives next door to me and I was born on March 7 1945. I was born in Winona, Mississippi then we moved to Arkansas where Clyde and James were born. We moved in 1952 first to Ruleville, Mississippi then that fall we moved to Greenwood, Mississippi and the summer of 1954 we moved back to Winona, Mississippi
James Calvin “JC” Parker
9.26.1908 3-22-1967
by Wayne N. Parker
September 26, 2008 would have been my Dad’s 100th birthday. I would like to share some of my memories of him.
He was the first born of Jim and Homie Johnson Parker.
He was a great Dad, who treated all three of his sons the same, as he had no favorite son. He was always there for us and we knew we could go to him at any time. He would listen to what every ever we had on our mind and answer any questions the best he could.
Daddy was both a mother and father to us after Mother died. He was a great storyteller, loved to read, hunt and fish. Dad lived to work in our garden, Dr. Middleton had told him to stay out of the garden in 1965
but telling a Parker male to stay out of his garden could start WWIII, as I found out when I reminded Daddy what Dr. Middleton said. We had grapevines, apples, peaches, plums and figs trees as well as strawberries vines.
Daddy was only 5ft 6in tall but to us three kids he was a giant man because of his love for us and our love for him was always there. He was no saint and he would be the first to tell you that. He taught us right from wrong and that our word was our bond.
Dad told us that he had better never ever hear of us starting a fight but also he didn’t want to hear about us backing down from one either. I never thought to ask him how he viewed the fighting between my brothers and I. One summer he did get mad at all three of us, because that year sometimes we got into not only a two way fight but also some three way at the drop of a hat. He told us the next time we got into a fight all three of us would be punished no matter who was at fault. It was very peaceful for a couple of days them I gave James the biggest black eye you had ever seen at 12:00 that day. We knew that we were in trouble then. We spent the next six hours trying to come up with a story (LIE) so we would not find out what the big unknown punishment would be. We told him that James had step on a hoe and that it hit him in the eye. We knew he wasn’t going to believe nothing but the truth, but it was the best we could do. He said not a word and we waited and waited for the ax to fall. In fact we waited the rest of the summer but we also quit fighting for the rest of that summer. We never did find out how he was going to punish us and not knowing was the worst punishment he could have gave us. Clyde, James and I were the best of friends and James and I miss Clyde so much.
Daddy was a fun person to be around, I think he pulled as many if not more jokes on us than we did on him. Our home was a fun place to grow up in. We all loved to pull jokes on each other and also help each other in times of need. Dad also taught us that sometimes life could and would be very hard but we must never give up trying to do our best.
Dad was a farmer, logger, share cropper, Hobo, carpenter, hunter, fisherman and he love to read. ,
We lived next door to Granny and Pa Parker and Dad would check on them each day before work and sometime after work as well. Uncle Charley also came by their home each day during the week to check on them. We, as well as our cousins, were taught from an early age a love and respect for our family.
Dad made sure we did our chores around the house, yard and garden and he taught all three of us how to cook. During the week all four of us would cook different meals. On Sundays after we all were teenagers we would cook lunch for him each of us was in charge of cooking our special foods. I can’t remember what James and mine were but Clyde’s was sweets and bread rolls. Clyde could make the best cakes from scratch and out of this world yeast rolls. One of our chores was washing and drying dishes. My brothers and I were for every trading this chore between the three of us. The secret was never give up too much to get the other to wash and dry in your place and just how much you wanted to give up so that you would be free to do something else. Dad never got involved in our trading but I have seen him shake his head in disbelief at the trades we would make.
At J.A.Olson his job was to join the four or more pieces of wood with nails to make a frame. He would make test frames for the sawyer to help them set up their saws so the frames would come together OK on the last corner. They had to have the right amount on spring on the last corner or they would gap open or overlap if too little. He also worked on small orders; repaired old frames and handled special orders. At some time in the late 50’s and early 60’s worms killed the chestnut trees and J.A. Olson wanted to see if they could make frames that would look antique out of the lumber. Bill Lisenbee was walking the first frame through the plant. He handed Daddy the pieces so Daddy could join them together. Bill got a call to come to the office so he told Daddy to hold on to the frame till he got back. Daddy had seen what the old frames had looked liked before he started to repair them. So he figured he needed to make Bill’s frame look old so on went a wasp nest, dirt dodders nest and a spider web. When Dad handed the frame to Bill, his mouth dropped open and he started to say something and then as if a light bulb came on. He said “J.C. that’s just what we were looking for.” They were still selling that line when I left in 1968.
Daddy made the frames that display some of Mississippi Governors official portrait and later so did I. We would be watching a movie or a show on TV and he would say look at that pattern number so and so on the mirrors or pictures on the wall.
He died of emphysema and asthma on March 22,1967, but he lives on in our hearts forever.
My Dog Rusty?
Rusty came into my life when I was about six weeks old and he was about six months old. He was from a litter that was supposed to have been a full-blooded Collie but his daddy must have been a Border Collie. Since he was a half-breed, Daddy got him cheap, years later I got to meet the man who sold him to my father. When Daddy told him what a good hunting dog Rusty was the man laughed and said, “If I had known that back then I would have charged you more.”
I was born in Winona, Mississippi in 1945 then we moved to Arkansas as Clyde was born there in 1948.
My first recollections of Rusty began when I was about three. I was walking down our driveway, which was on a small hill, about half down the drive Rusty caught something in his month and the next thing I knew there was part of a snake wrapped around my leg. I let out a loud scream my father ran back up the drive and at the same time my mother ran down the drive. They got the dead snake off my leg I was so glad it was the back half of the snake and not the head. Since Rusty could smell a snake, I came to understand when Rusty’s ears and tail got to pointing a certain way to look out for he was about to kill another one. He would grab the snake with his mouth and pop it into, to kill it. I always made sure to get out of his way.
Years later when I was a teenager; I ask Daddy why Rusty hated snakes and why he would kill them that way. He said, “When Rusty was a puppy he was playing with a snake and when it bit him on his lip. Rusty was so mad that he killed the snake.”
We had a good time playing with each other then when my brother Clyde was old enough to play out side, Rusty would look out for both of us.
Daddy was a hunter and Rusty was not only his hunting dog but also his hunting buddy. All the game Daddy killed, Mother would cook and we ate it. They also liked to go fishing together. I remember watching Daddy come out of the house carrying his 12 gauge long tom shot gun. He wouldn’t say a word to Rusty yet Rusty would be up and ready to go. Then other times Daddy would come out with his rubber boots on and stomp his foot and Rusty would bark and run in circles around Daddy then off they would go hunting.
When I started to school the town we lived in was so small that we had to catch a bus to a larger town Rusty would walk me to the only bus stop where all the kids met in the morning. He would meet the bus in the afternoon and walk me home. Some of the older kids would pick on us younger ones, one day I told them that if they didn’t leave us alone I would sic my dog on them. When Mother went to the Post Office that day the lady told Mother what I had said that morning. They both thought that was a good idea, but when my dad heard about it, he pointed out that wasn’t the way to deal with the problem. He said, “Rusty would hurt the other kids to protect Wayne.” Mom and Dad talked to the other parents and there was no more picking on us younger ones.
When I was six, Daddy took me rabbit hunting; Rusty would get on the trail of a rabbit. You would see him running along following the scent then he would leap into the air to see if he could spot the rabbit running somewhere in front of him. If Rusty could spot him he would leave the trail and go straight for the rabbit. Later Daddy took me squirrel hunting, Rusty would tree the squirrel then Daddy would stand in one spot and Rusty would move that squirrel around the tree till Daddy could kill him.
Some times at night Rusty would go hunting by his self and when he would tree something he would bark a certain way and Daddy would get his gun and go to kill what every Rusty had found.
One night about 2 AM Daddy heard Rusty bark and off he went to see what he had found.
Mother always locked the door when Daddy would go hunting at night and would only open it when Dad would knock a special way. A while later the knock came, she opened the door and then slammed it shut. She got him a pair of pants and a shirt, opened the door and threw them out onto the porch. The next morning as we awoke we smelled a very bad odor. It seems that just as Daddy raised his lantern to see what Rusty had treed, a skunk raised his tail and sprayed Dad and Rusty. Mother tried every way in the world to get the odor out of his clothes, and then she burned them. It was a while before either of them did any night hunting.
One fall day Mother was looking out the window as she started to laugh, she called Clyde and I to the window. We saw Daddy with a small tree on his shoulder that he had just cut. He was moving it over to the saw buck where he could cut it up for stove wood. There was Rusty on the other end pulling as hard as he could, but Daddy couldn’t see him. When Daddy threw the tree down Rusty barked like he was hurt but Daddy couldn’t figure out why. When mother told him what Rusty was doing on the other end he did understood why a small tree seemed so heavy. Rusty was just having himself a good time till daddy dropped the tree to the ground.
Rusty and I loved to wrestle each other till one or both of us would get tired.
I loved to go fishing with Mother and Dad. Daddy would cut a limb off of the willow tree attach a line and hook and I would go fishing. One day I just had to set my pole out and leave it out over night like my Dad. The next morning when Dad went to check on his poles, he saw that mine was out in the pond bobbing up and down. When he swam out there was a one and half pound fish on the pole. This pond had an island out in the middle and a duck had a nest on it. Daddy would swim out and get their eggs. It was a couple days later when Daddy and Rusty went back to check on some more poles that he had left overnight.
All his poles were still stuck in the bank of the pond and one was bobbing up and only this time when he pulled up the pole there was a snake on it. Now Daddy had a real battle on his hands because Rusty wanted to kill the snake and Daddy didn’t want Rusty to get the fishhook in his mouth and Daddy didn’t want the snake to bite him. Daddy finally killed the snake this time without Rusty’s help. Years later I asked Daddy what he would have done if my pole would have had a snake instead of the fish. He laughed and said. “I guess the pond would have a new odor in it.” Or something like that.
In 1952 my brother James was born in Arkansas and that summer we moved to the Mississippi delta, first to Ruleville, MS then to Greenwood, MS. When we moved to Greenwood, Rusty went to live on my grandparent’s farm in Winona, MS.
My grandfather would later tell me about how Rusty made the adjustment. He refused to eat; he would lay in the front yard looking for us to come back to get him. Pa and Granny finally got him to eat. Then they got him to go with their dog Jack to help with the cows.
I will never forget the feeling I received the first time we went back to see Rusty. When he spotted us he started to bark and ran around wagging his tail. Then he and I had to wrestle each other. In the summer of 1953 I spent two weeks with Granny and Pa. They had a dairy farm and I got to see the Border Collie side of Rusty as he helped round up the cows. He seemed so happy doing his new job.
In the summer of 1954 we moved back to Winona and then on September 16,1954 Mother died.
The next fall Rusty made his last hunt. Daddy took my brothers and I squirrel hunting. Rusty went slowly ahead of us and barked one time at a tree and then lay down. Daddy was looking up into the tree as he walked around it, then he said, “Rusty you lied because there is no squirrel in that tree.” I said, “No he didn’t because I see the squirrel.” For the squirrel was going one way around the tree as Dad went the other way. Daddy killed him and we had squirrel dumplings that night.
Rusty died not to long after that. Daddy never hunted much after that. I think loosing his wife and then his hunting dog took all the fun out of it. He would go hunting with us a few times before he died on March 22,1967 because that meant he could spend some special time with us. He never lost his love of fishing with us.
I had always thought Rusty was my dog till I was in my forties, then one day I realized that Rusty was my Dad’s dog. I then knew what a privilege and honor that I had been granted to be part of their world.
3.5.1948 03-07-1991
Clyde, the second son of the late James Calvin “JC” and Willie Pearl Murphy Parker was born in AR.
In 1954 his family moved back to Winona where he started to school. He was in the first grade when his
Mother died on 9-16-1954. Their father raised him along with oldest brother Wayne and youngest brother
James.
Clyde joined The US Air Force in March of 1968 on a program where he would report to training only
after he graduated from WHS. He went to Vietnam for a year. After he returned he married
Lena Joanne Sellers of Vaiden on 9-26-1970. They have two sons and a daughter, Dennis Allen Parker,
Steve Albert Parker and Kimberly Ann Parker.
Clyde loved to raise chickens. He had a bantam rooster that he trained to crow on command. This rooster
was getting old so Clyde decided to raise a young rooster just in case the older one died. We came home
from school one day and the older rooster had broken into the younger one cage and had almost killed him.
Clyde was really upset with his buddy the older rooster. I heard Clyde shouting for me to open the door,
he had blood all over him my first thought was that he had hurt himself. He put the rooster in a box by his
bed that night and nursed it back to health. The old rooster was in the “dog house for a while.” Clyde made
some new pens when he took the younger one back out side.
We had a bigger pen for his regular chickens and one day in the fall; I was shooting my Bow at a
pasteboard box in the garden when Clyde joined me. He watched as I shot my new arrows into the target
box: then he tried it. His first shot went right through the neck of one of his chickens he had missed the
target by about 35 feet. He said not a word as he walked to the house, as he got out the butcher knife and
a pan, Daddy ask what he was doing Clyde said “ that he was cleaning a chicken.” As my father started
to ask Clyde why, I got my Dad’s attention as Clyde walked out the door then I told him what had
Happened. He went outside to be with Clyde. I put away my bow never to use it again. Now if it had been
me that killed his chicken I would have heard about it for a long time. Clyde raised his chickens and ducks
right up to his death.
Our Dad taught us things you would never find in books, like learning to read upside down and another
lesson he taught us saved Clyde life. During Thanksgiving break when Clyde was in the six grade, he was
helping a friend clean up their yard when another friend came up to the fire and picked up a bottle and
threw it into the fire not knowing it has kerosene in it. Clyde didn’t see it as he had his back to the fire it
exploded catching him on fire on the back of his legs. Daddy had made us practice falling to the ground
and rolling over and over just in case we ever caught on fire. That’s just what Clyde did and it saved his
life. The house where this happened was by the ballparks near J.A. Olson and Clyde then ran all the way
to our home on Pearl St. by the shirt factory. Dr Middleton had to do a skin graft on his legs.
Clyde and James liked to coon hunt and one time a neighbor said something about them coming in late
at night. Daddy could be very blunt at times and this was one of the times. “Yes I know where they were
and yes I know who they were with, for your information they were with the game warden who is their
hunting buddy and where were your kids?”
Clyde was stationed at Del Rio, TX after his return from Vietnam. This was a pilot training base. As we
were growing up we all had a good sense of humor. Clyde would let the young pilots have their walk
through watching as they checked off each item before they made their first flight. Just as they would start
to walk off he would make a remark to one of his buddies ‘should we change the tires or could they get
one more flight out of them.” Then keep a straight face, as the young pilots would race back demanding
that the tires be changed. Clyde stayed in the Air Force Reserve and also worked at Keesler Air Force
Base as a member of the Hurricane Hunters. He was on his two weeks training in August of 1990 when he collapsed. He had cancer, it had got into his spinal cord and he lost all feeling below the waist. He lost his
battle with cancer on my birthday March 7,1991. He was buried with full Military Honors.
James and I not only lost a brother but our oldest and dearest friend.
Alaska Earthquake 1964
On March 27,1964 at 5:36 PM local time in Alaska or 8:36 central time an earthquake with a magnitude of 9.2 hit Alaska.
It was the largest earthquake ever recorded in North American and the second largest in the 20th century.
A Ham Radio Operator is a person who can transmit and receive by radio. A short-wave receiver is a radio that can pick up not only Ham Radio but also many other radios broadcasts from around the world. You can only listen to the programs.
I had to do an oral report in school, I told the class about what I had heard that night. This is that story.
Doctor Middleton had removed an ingrown toenail from my big toe after school that Friday. As the feeling returned to my toe so did the pain. I went to my room turned on the short-wave radio, let everyone know that I didn’t was to be disturbed, put on my headphones to block out the TV. I started to listen to some Hams talking, one was in Anchorage, Alaska and the other was in Seattle, Washington. They were having a good time swapping stories, and then suddenly the one in Anchorage said in a very loud and excited voice! “I may go off the air any minute for the house is shaking bad! The walls are coming down!” Then he went silent!
The Ham in Seattle keeps calling out the other Ham’s call sign, but there was no answer. It was then that another Alaska’s Ham broke in with the news that an earthquake had hit Alaska.
I then turned the radio dial to pick up the international broadcast stations, but they hadn’t started reporting yet. I went back to listening to the Hams, who by this time were operating on special frequencies where all they handle was emergencies radio traffic in and out of Alaska.
I call out to my Dad to come and listen to the radio with me.
When I went back to the international broadcast they were reporting on the Quake and were giving out tsunami warning. I listened to many radio stations around the Pacific Ocean that night. I have always been a news hound and I knew this was history in the making.
It was late when I went to sleep that night and at some point that night I had forgot all about the pain in my toe.
. On the History Channel they did a show that tells the story about that day. Every time that I see it carries me back to the night, that when I think about the Ham in Anchorage and wonder what happen to him.
Ham radio operators are able to go from “chewing the fat” to emergency mode in a split second. They own their own equipment and can never make any money for the service they provide. My hat goes off to them.