My neighbor across the road, Mr. Bowen, was in his seventies when he found me crying at his fence behind his house after the older boys had left me in their dust, and he became my best friend until he died. I don't remember how old I was, but probably about six. I loved going to visit him, where he would always give me my choice of a piece of candy, and then regale me with stories of the Confederacy, as he spit into his spittoon.
He would tie chickens on his clothes line by their legs, and then go down the row slitting their necks with his handy Barlow knife, as he chawed' on a plug of Brown Mule, which was my Christmas present to him each year. One year my mother asked if I didn't want to get him something different, and I was dumbfounded, as I told her, but that's what he likes! Every time my mother would bake loaves of bread, I would take one to him steaming hot. There isn't much better than this smothered in butter. He taught me how to make my first slingshot among many, many other things. I really miss him.
Damn, you got me teary eyed. He sounds like he was a fine gentleman.
ReplyDeleteIf younger kids were taken under a wing like you were back then. Times would be different.
To many parents are chasing their ass for the next "fun" thing.
Good or bad...kids learn by example.
Good or bad...kids learn by example.
ReplyDeleteWell said.
Where was he from?
ReplyDeleteToday, Mr. Bowen would end up reported to DSS and shunned (if not imprisoned) as a "pervert."
ReplyDeleteAs a result, no man I know would DARE show such kindness to (much less interest in) a child not his own.
Damn shame - we ALL (ESPECIALLY our kids) are INFINITELY poorer as a result.
To be honest, I believe this is one reason why The Enemy has gone so far to create the "pervert-panic" that's consumed our society...
The Enemy has gone so far to create the "pervert-panic" that's consumed our society...
ReplyDeleteDamn, I hadn't thought of that and come to think of it, probably somewhere in the Marxist playbook.
Abednego
ReplyDeleteI've never seen the first name. Do you know its history?
Funny, I hear hear my mother saying Shadrack and Meshack, but guess the third brother lost me.:)
ReplyDeleteWhat lovely experiences. I am glad you had such a dear friend.
ReplyDeleteHere is to Mr. Bowen, and mothers baking bread, fresh butter, clothes lines, and all that makes life dear.
Thank you for posting about Mr. Bowen.
Miss Emma
Thank you, sweetie. I remember when I visited the graveyard to see him after Vietnam,I drove around the streets and something caused me to stop one place. I walked across from my car and there was Mr. Bowen's grave as well as his wife's and his daughter's Miss Mildred.
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