One of the things to dislike about growing older is the passing away of loved ones. If you’re lucky, time has given you many friends and relatives to love.
Time slowly but surely deprives you of the same. The past two years have been particularly tough. Covid took eight of my friends and cancer got a couple more.
I’m remembering my brother-in-law, Kenny Black, who passed away from cancer a couple of days before Christmas.
He lived in the Allens Crossroads community.
When I married Linda Sue Black 55 years ago, her brothers Kenny and Bruce adopted me as a brother.
We have had that relationship ever since. We always referred to each other as Uncle Kenny and Uncle John.
Times were simple back then.
We lived on gravel roads that were muddy all winter and in the dry summer days clouds of dust resembling an erupting volcano boiled out from the few cars that passed by.
Sometimes your family had a television set and sometimes you didn’t.
Most folks were living on small farms with cotton the main source of income.
The biggest entertainment was playing with your family and friends.
There were chickens, cows, pigs, mules and sometimes horses.
Everybody had a favorite dog. Wild critters were abundant to hunt or capture and attempt to tame.
Maybe the most fun was wading in the creek, catching crawdads, frogs and minnows.
Most families did their own mechanic work, fixing their cars, mowers, saws, well pumps and the many other devices on a farm.
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