A Jeb and Me story (The town drunk)


1-09-09


As y’all know Grandpa is a gentle quite man, God fearin’ help thy neighbor kind of man.
That said sets the stage fur this here yarn.

One of my school friends, named Richard (Dickey) Hockle got bad sick and the town Doctor were at a loss what were wrong with him; so they sent him to St. Louis. He were there most two weeks. All that while Grandpa took-up the chores whilst they were in St. Louis and Jeb and Me took on the home place, along with Grandma.

The Doctors sent him home, sayin’ they be no more they could do fur him. He never came back to school; he died that week. Them Doctors in St. Louis said he got some kind a bug in his head form cow dung. Jeb said, “how could a cow do that” course I didn’t know nether; so I ask Grandpa, he said, he hear tell it were from swimmin’ in the Hockle’s cow pond, then commenced ta tell us the how and why and made us promise not ta swim in no cow ponds. Sorry, I kind-a got loose from what I were gone ta tell y’all ‘bout what happened in town when I were little like Jeb. Well hear she goes.

Grandma said she needed some flower, thread and some other things from Mr. Leave’s
Mercantile and would Grandpa go fetch them and he could take me along, Jeb he were to little at that time to go. Well Grandpa got that old mule and put him to the wagon. I climbed up on the seat and a-fore you could say Jiminy crickets we were bumpin’ down that old dirt road. Grandpa he were a-singin’ somethin’ real loud, what it were God only knows and maybe the mule.

Now it were a fur piece ta town and we had ta stop to the side a the road a time or two. When we got to Mr. Leave’s Mercantile Grandpa watered the mule and we went in. It were a fun place and the best was the candy case. Grandpa bought me a red sucker and said I could set on the porch but don’t go in the street. I were settin’ with my feet hangin’
off the end and watchin’ all the goins’-on. The ladies would ask for Grandma and how’s school and the like. That’s when it happened.

A drunk man come a-staggerin’ down the board walk, bumpin’ into folks. I thought he were funny, ‘till he grabs me up and took my red sucker and commenced ta toss me in the air. I could hear folks scream ta put me down. It were then I seed Grandpa runnin’ toward me, he looked liked a mad bull. He grabbed me with one hand and in the same motion hit that drunk man in the face. I could hear bone brakin’ and blood were a-squirtin’ out his mouth. He fell to the ground rollin’ round, a-holdin’ to his face and spittin’ out teeth. Grandpa were a-holdin’ me so tight I commenced ta cry. ‘bout then the sheriff come and backs Grandpa off. He took to lookin’ after the drunk man, he looks up ta grandpa and said, with a grin, dang ifin y’all didn’t break his jaw and maybe his nose as wall. Like I said, “My Grandpa is a gentle man”.

J.C.Hill

Ah, a fabulous story (as can always be expected with a "Jeb & Me") and perfect for tonight. It was fun to read, and so reminiscent of a time that I didn't live through. Whenever I read these, I think about how funny it is that this could be a futuristic story since I have so little understanding of how the world works. Everything is so different-- priorities, words, systems of living, excitements... hospitals. Anyway, kudos again and thanks for sharing.

Ah Jack...what a wonderful story.

It certainly was a time when people had their priorities straight. By gum if grandpa slugged someone in the face today for savin a youngin from a drunk, he’d be up on assault charges and sued blind before you could say Bob’s your uncle!

Great story Jack...looking forward to the next one.

“ Lionheart
~

"Make your choice, adventurous stranger, strike the bell and bide the danger, or wonder 'till it drives you mad, what would have happened if you had."

You spin such a colorful yarn in colloquial tones I could picture each scene with clarity in my mind's eye. Makes one wonder if the author here isn't actually recounting true stories (hmmm?) about little Jackie being saved by his gentle grandpa.

Your recounting of Dickey Hockle's death put me in mind of my grandmother when she was a young girl (maybe high school age). She had a classmate who was dying of TB (I think), and the classmate's mother begged my grandmother to be the one to break the news to her daughter that she was dying b/c the mother didn't have the nerve to do it. I can't imagine being so young and being tasked to break such grim news.

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The opposite of joy is not sorrow. It is unbelief. ~ Leslie Weatherhead
Picture me with my ground teeth stalking joy--fully armed too, as it's a highly dangerous quest. ~ Flannery O'Connor

Fair, Lionheart and Airedale,
Thanks for reading and pleased y’all liked this slice from my past; yes, the two events in this story are true. Dickey was my best friend and died as the story is written. In the second part it was my Father that saved me from a drunk as related by my Mother and my Uncle.

Jack