1bobbylee on Family Tree Circles
Journals and Posts
Our "American Hero" stepped forward in 1933. It was Franklin Delano Roosevelt, America's 32nd President of the United States of America.
Born January 30, 1882 Hyde Park, New York
Died April 12, 1945 Warm Springs, Georgia
In August, 1921 Franklin D. Roosevelt contacted an illness diagnosed at the time as polio; which resulted in permanent paralysis from the waist down.
ROOSEVELT'S FIRST HUNDRED DAYS IN OFFICE
Setting priorities for his first term in 1933 was easy for President Franklin D. Roosevelt. He had to save America from economic ruin. He had to at least begin to pull America out of our Great Depression. He did, and he did it during his first hundred days.
On his first day in office, March 4, 1933 FDR called Congress into a special session. He then proceeded to drive a series of bills through Congress that reformed the U.S. banking industry, saved American agriculture and allowed for industry recovery.
At the same time, FDR wielded the executive order in creating the Civilian Conservation Corp, the Public Works Administration, and the Tennessee Valley Authority. These projects put tens of thousands of Americans back to work building dams, bridges, highways and much needed public utility systems. By the time Congress adjourned the special session on June 16, 1933, Roosevelt's agenda the "New Deal" was in place. America, though still struggling, was off the mat and back in the fight.
Not all of the "New Deal" worked and it took World War II to finally solidify the nation. Yet, to this day, Americans still grade the initial performance of all new presidents against Franklin D. Roosevelt's "First hundred Days."
During their first hundred days, all new presidents try to harness the carryover energy of a successful campaign by at least starting to implement the main programs and promises coming from the primaries and debates.
During some part of their first hundred days, Congress and the press generally allow new presidents a "Honeymoon Period," during which public criticism is held to a minimum. It is during this totally unofficial and typically fleeting grace period that new presidents often try to get bills through Congress that might face more opposition later in the term.
- President Roosevelt dominated the American political scene, not only during the twelve years of his Presidency, but for decades afterward. He orchestrated the realignment of voters that created the fifth party system. FDR's New Deal coalition united labor unions, big city machines, white ethnics, African Americans and rural white Southerners. President Roosevelt's diplomatic impact also resonated on the world stage long after his death, with the United Nations and Bretton Woods as examples of his administration's wide-ranging impact. President Roosevelt is consistently rated by scholars as one of the greatest U.S. Presidents. -
Source: About.Com US Government Info
Source: Wikipedia The Free Encyclopedia
Q: What is the Fifth Party System?
A: The Fifth Party System refers to the era of American national politics that began with the New Deal in 1933. This era emerged from the realignment of the voting blocs and interest groups supporting the Democratic Party into the New Deal Coalition following the Great Depression.
Q: What does the term Bretton Woods mean?
A: An agreement signed by the original United Nations members in 1944 that established the International Money Fund (IMF) and the post-world War II international monetary systems not fixed.
HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW - whose descent is traced from William Longfellow of Byfield Massachusetts, an English immigrant of the third quarter of the seventeenth century, was the son of Stephen and Zilpha (Wadsworth) Longfellow. He was born in a house still standing at the corner of Fore and Hancock streets, Portland, Maine, February 27, 1807. He was trained for college at the Portland Academy, and in 1821 entered Bowdoin College (founded but twenty years before), was graduated in 1825, and immediately received an invitation to teach the modern languages in his Alma Mater, with leave of absence for travel and study in Europe
Mr. Longfellow died March 24, 1882, leaving two sons and three daughters.
This is an excerpt from the first paragraph of Mr. Longfellow's Biographical sketch.
Source: Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Poems., Longriver Press, Secaucus, N.J. 1976
I have observed recently an interest by some of our members in American history. Thank you. By being a member of Family Tree Circles, I to have learned some history about other countries. Primarily, Australia, New Zealand and England. There are others. Why shouldn't we from time to time, present a journal to introduce other members to our own individual countries?
Pick a subject that someone may not have thought about or know. It can be informative, happy, sad, or tragic. Most people know their own countries better than someone else's.
I was thinking about my country's Presidents. What was in their heart when they took the Oath of Office? By really listening and studying the words of a President's Inaugural Address has allowed me some insight as to how a U.S. President has governed or will govern.
My favorite President along with his Inaugural address was President Harry S Truman.
Read all the U.S. President's inaugural addresses..
"After reading President Truman's Inaugural Address, I want to jump up and shout, "God Bless America!" and to bless "any" country that seeks "Freedom" and "Democracy.
Searching for any information on John Waters, born around 1775. A dear woman, historian, and genealogist was able to find this information, but could not find any other on John, who would be my GGGGGranfather. I desire to find any information.
I am not familiar with all the genealogical sites. If someone could find anything that I have not been able to find, it would be sincerely appreciated.
My GGGGranfather: Home: 1850 Spartanburg SC Born abt 1805
Spouse: Nancy Hendrix Waters b-1801
William Waters, b- approx 1828
John Waters b- 1830
Sally Waters b- 1832
Perry Waters b-1834
James Waters b- 1836
Harriet Waters b-1838
* My GGGGranfather's name is John Waters b-1805
I have run into a brick wall in Finding my G G G G Granfather.
Please list other sites that I can check into. Thank you. Bob.
1850 Federal Census information: JOHN WATERS age - about 45 - Est. birth - abt 1805 - Gender - m Home in 1850 Spartanburg SC - Family no. 808.
Household Name: John Waters - age 45 - Spouse: Nancy Waters Children: WILLIAM WATERS - 1850 census ages - WILLIAM WATERS, 22 yrs. - JOHN, 20 yrs. - SALLY WATERS, 18 yrs. - PERRY WATERS, 16 yrs. JAMES, 14 yrs. HARRIET WATERS 12 yrs. (NANCY WATERS the spouse of JOHN WATERS WAS 49 yrs. of age)
JOHN WATERS was a farmer
I believe WILLIAM WATERS is my great great grandfather (The son of JOHN WATERS) (WILLIAM WATERS was born abt. 1830.)
JOHN WATERS resided in Spartanburg county, spartanburg, sc
WILLIAM WATERS moved from Spartanburg sc (no date given) to: Chick Springs, Greenville, SC. WILLIAM'S son (my great grandfather) was named JOHN W WATERS, born appx 1848 - 49 was also from Chick Springs, Greenville, SC WILLIAM WATERS spouse's name is - Sarah (Sallie) Vaughan Waters. My great grandmother's name (Married to JAMES W WATERS is Caroline Willard Waters (from Tenn)
My question: Was JOHN WATERS unquestionably my great great great grandfather? If so, I would like to know who my great great great great grandfather is. What's him name, history, etc.
I am searching for my great great grandmother's maiden name.
Name: Sarah (Sallie) Vaughan South Carolina. I believe her father
father and mother and family were from Taylors, SC. (But
not 100% sure on this. Married William Waters - They resided
in Chick Springs township - Taylors, SC, Greenville Cty.
Sarah was 10 yrs older than William. Appx yr. Sarah was born
is: 1820. Does anyone know Vaughan's with this name, or
Name: Caroline Wills Waters. MY great grandmother. Maiden name,
Willis. Her father's name is William Deyton or Deaton from
Tenn. Her mother's name is Pauline Willis from Tenn.
Caroline b. Apr 14, 1861 d. Jul 27, 1929. Her nick name was
"Carrie". She was 13 yrs younger than my great grandfather,
James W Waters, b Sep 9, 1847 d. Sep 7, 1925.
Both of my grandparents and grandmother's were Farmers
Also, if anyone has additional information on the names
Willis Tenn and Deyton Deaton Tenn. that would be fabulous!
Upon checking the internet, I discovered there a lot of Vaughan
in Taylors, SC.
Could anyone be a Vaughan or Willis relative? Please help me. I
would appreciate it.
The day is cold, and dark, and dreary;
It rains, and the wind is never weary;
The vine still clings to the mouldering
But at every gust the dead leaves fall,
And the day is dark and dreary.
My life is cold, and dark, and dreary;
It rains, and the wind is never weary;
My thoughts still cling to the mouldering
But the hopes of youth fall thick in the
And the days are dark and dreary.
Be still, sad heart! and cease repining;
Behind the clouds is the sun still shining;
Thy fate is the common fate of all,
Into each life some rain must fall,
Some days must be dark and dreary.
Can someone out there name this poem and poet.
The winner will receive an "atta girl" or "atta boy" reward.
Among our members there has got to be "poet" scholars.
The heat from the hot asphalt road had formed a wave-like distortion. It was hot. Extremely hot! Hemingway S.C. was being scorched.
Uncle was driving leisurely down the black top county road. I was perspiring profusely. No car air conditioner in those days. Uncle was the pastor of a small rural country church. We were enroute to one of his parishioners. To the left and right were corn and tobacco crops. They seemed to be lifting their leaves upward toward heaven. Hungrily longing with anticipation for the taste of cool rain water.
The farm areas for months had been experiencing drought. A small breeze was stirring. Rain clouds were forming. Relief seemed to be on the way.
At the previous Wednesday night prayer meeting, my Uncle called on one of the brethern to lead us in prayer. Slowly, from the front pew arose a white haired gentleman. "Many years have passed. As I remember, it went something like this, "Dear Lord, We need rain real bad. The crops are drying up. Some of us are facing ruin. Have mercy Lord, and praise your holy name." It was a short prayer of seeking and praise.
Uncle and I had been invited for supper at the McCurry farm home. My Uncle was the pastor of their small Baptist chuch. We turned off the county highway onto a dry, dusty dirt road. At the end stood a two story weathered farm house. The porch with bannisters wrapped itself around the front and side. As with most farms in the Hemingway area, crops surrounded the home and buildings. Farm soil was precious. Their main yearly income depended on what was grown. "Butch, These folks have a son around about your age." I don't remember, but I'm sure I smiled with anticipation.
Our host, a rugged farmer with dusty overalls, approached us with a big friendly smile. "Welcome, I've been expecting ya'll." These farm folks were polite and sincere. They were hard workers from daylight to sunset. I can't remember one who didn't have a friendly personality. He apologized for his wife not being there to greet us. An illness had overtaken him. His wife had replaced him in the fields. It was late in the afternoon when mom and son slowly walked toward the house. She carried two hoes on her shoulder. A large brimmed straw hat adorned and protected her head and face. The hot sun had been unmerciful. She wore a faded print dress and high laced shoes. With a lovely smile, she welcomed us warmly. She patted her husband on the shoulder, and asked how he was feeling. I remember her looking upward. A smile formed on her sweet face. The breeze had picked up. The rain clouds that I had noticed in the afternoon were becoming darker. This lovely woman's face held my attention. But, It was there. The tired eyes and weary voice.
"Ya'll sit down. I'll bring ya'll something to drink." She arrived with big glasses of sweet iced tea. That was the best tea I had ever tasted. Their son was unhitching the mules. Checking them over, rubbing them down, watering, and feeding them. These farmers took care of their animals. He arrived and joined us. He finished the tea off in one or two gulps. Like a flash, he was gone and returning with another large glass of tea. He was a quiet red headed farm boy. He had more freckles than I. He wore the customary overalls, no shirt, and wore high laced brogan shoes. He was fifteen years old. A year older than myself.
Their son gave me a tour of the immediate farm. Corn was in long rows which stretched onward and onward. I was introduced to the farm animals. For a "city slicker" like myself, this was fun and exciting. Soon, we were all seated around the large rustic kitchen table. This dear farm lady prepared her food carefully. Fresh from the field to the table. She kept bringing bowl after bowl of vegetables and a big platter of golden brown fried chicken. The biscuits were steaming hot with fresh churned butter and honey on the side. I had never seen so much food! Excuse me, I am getting ahead of myself. The blessing hasn't been said. I was starving! Uncle Ernest was asked to say the blessing. It went something like this - "Dear Lord, Thank you for this wonderful bounty. (I had to agree with him.) Bless this home, this wonderful family." He prayed for a steady rain, he prayed for the crops. He prayed for the farm animals. "I believe he missed the chickens." He was covering it all! I was sitting there squirming. I was so hungry! "My stomach was doing battle with my backbone." "Oh, Dear Reader, during this lengthy prayer, one could not believe the delicious aromas bursting forth in all directions from this wonderful fresh food! Ham, chicken gravy, mashed potatoes, carrots smothered in churned butter, hot and steaming butter milk biscuits. There was okra, squash, cabbage, sliced juicy tomatoes, cucumber salad. For dessert, apple pie." Uncle was still praying. He did not rush his prayers. Sincerity belonged to Uncle Ernest. Finally, the amen was given. Bowl after bowl was passed around the table. I had a smile on my face. This awesome farm family made us feel so welcome... Feeding their pastor and his nephew was their way of showing their love and appreciation.
The red headed farm boy was really shoveling the food down. "How could one person eat so much?" He worked from sun-up to sun-down. He needed all the fuel he could get. Suddenly, he stood up and wiped the milk ring from around his mouth. "Well, It sure was nice meeting ya'll. I am going to bed now. Have to get up before daylight and milk the cows." Then, He was gone.
I was so full. I thanked the dear farm lady for the best meal I had ever tasted. She nodded her head, said thank you, and smiled sweetly. I detected some weakness in her voice. This wonderful lady had worked in the fields under a blazing hot sun. She had taken the time to prepare this wonderful meal. She must have been exhausted. She still had work to do. Her husband, by his actions toward her left any doubt that he loved her very much.
Uncle and I fixed the same breakfast each morning. Cream of wheat, scrambled eggs, sausage, milk and coffee. We had a sandwich for lunch. A drive into Hemingway, S.C. had us eating supper at the local diner. You can imagine how thankful we were for a delicious home cooked farm meal.
As we stepped out onto the porch, a cool steady rain was falling. I thought of the elderly white haired gentleman at church Wednesday night and his humble short prayer of seeking and praise. God was bountiful. The following day, it rained all day and several days thereafter.
** This adventure with my Uncle Ernest happened during my June summer vacation when I was fourteen years old. This story is part of my other short story, "Keep singing Uncle"
Seems to me that a huge quanity of points could possibly turn into a personal ego trip.
Please let me encourage the knowledgeable, experienced, well qualified in research, the historians, the genealogists to continue their tremendous help in assisting me to locate my ancestors and descendants. These wonderful people know who they are. Their journals have opened many doors for members who need you. I believe I can truthfully say that FamilyTreeCircles need you.
A well written, factual research journal about certain family, person, or area has sparked a familiarity that has led to members finding their ancestors.
All of our members, and I mean all, should contribute in journals. You may think, "I don't know what to say." "Write what you are thinking." Some member may very well pick it up and help you.
Do you have a story to share with members about a personal family member. An Aunt, An Uncle, Granpa, Granma. Please, give us the story! It's not all about dates, countries, deeds, wills, birth or death certificates. Of course these are very important when researching for an ancestor. Give as much information as you can.
Write from your memories. Write from your heart. Make us laugh, or shed a tear. What is more enjoyable than a human interest story?
Can the points! Abolish them! The points are empty anyway.
Let us concentrate on quality instead of quanity.
April showers bring spring flowers... I was driving leisurely southward toward Lake Greenwood, S.C. Ahead was a warm spring shower reaching downward in the distance. Soon we met, and soon we parted as the cascading rain trailed away from me. Quickly, a bright and beautiful rainbow formed to my right. The arch ended through a grove of green pines.
It was a pleasant spring day in South Carolina as I drove with contentment southward to visit my Uncle Clyde. Recently, he had leased a lake front home and acerage on picturesque Lake Greenwood in South Carolina. Three days previously, Uncle had invited me down to go fishing with him for a few days. He didn't have to ask twice. I returned an enthusiastic, Yes! Uncle Clyde chuckled. He knew that one of my passions was fishing.
I turned left onto S.C. state highway 39. I sniffed the air. What is that gentle erotic smell? It was defintely familiar. Then I saw the welcoming host. On both sides of the road were honeysuckle bushes with attractive yellow tubular flowers and small berries. I was entering the village of Cross Springs, S.C. The homes were aged and rustic. They seemed to be well taken care of. Most were painted white. The architecture was amazing. The gables, windows, columns, posts, and banisters were expertly carved. Such craftmanship.. I was in awe.
Soon, I was turning left across an old Southern Railroad track. I turned my head to the right and was welcomed by an amazing nostalgic sight. I felt my pulse race. I turned onto an unpaved parking space. Right in front of my eyes appeared a white 19th century two story country store. The building was lengthly and spacious. The wooden steps were crescent in design. As I opened the door, a bell rang above my head. A plumb, attractive, and friendly woman greeted me with a welcoming smile. Her eyes danced with merriment. I was a little dumbfounded as I gazed around the spacious store. I said to the sweet woman, "I feel as if I have traveled back in time." She smiled and nodded her head. I got the impression that she had heard that before from other travelers. She asked, "Would you like to hear a little history about our store?" I replied, "Yes, please."
"The store has been in my husband's family for four generations. His great granfather built it in the early eighteen eighties. Most people called him "Captain". He was an officer in the Confederacy. Captain was quite a businessman. Over a period of time, he had built a cotton gin behind the store. The railroad had a loading and unloading track. The farmer's cotton was ginned and shipped quickly to the market. Most people around here were farmers. Before motorized transportation, practically everything was stocked and sold here in the store." Consumer shopping was done in a single store. I asked, "What were the items that were stocked and sold long ago?"
She smiled. Again, I had the impression that she had heard this question asked many times before. "Well, In transportation, there were saddles, harness, mule and horse shoes, even an occasional buck board wagon. If the store did not stock it, it was ordered from the wholesaler. There were cast iron stoves, coffee, sugar, oatmeal, fruit and vegetables, dried beans. In dry goods there were bolts of cloth, pins and needles, thread, ribbon, silk, buttons, collars, suspenders, dungarees, hats and shoes. Some essential items were, rifles, pistols, ammunition, lanterns, lamps, rope, pots and pans, cooking utensils, dishes, farm supplies. And, Oh yes, a penny's worth of candy filled a bag." I smiled and thought, "Now that was an interesting and pleasureable trip back in time."
The country store was a social hub where neighbors met. Stories, jokes, and gossip was exchanged. What a joy it must have been for the men folk and women folk to happily greet one another. Sometimes, other than church meetings, It may be several weeks or longer before they drove their wagons into the small dusty village of Cross Springs.
Today, most of the "Old Country Stores" are gone. The ones that are left are stocked sparingly or turned into museums.
What events transpired to end the era of "The Old Country Store?" There were several reasons. First on the list was the introduction of RFD. (Rural Free Delivery) Also, RFD opened the door for mail order companies. In turn, these companies gave consumers merchandise catalogs. Rural and city folks made fewer trips to the country store. They ordered from the catalogs and had their mail delivered. Due to RFD, the government built more roads. The people traveled to larger towns and cities where they could shop at a greater number of merchants to buy and trade.
What a thrill. This dear store-keep lady has given me a history lesson and an enjoyable tour. It was time to leave. One of the modern conveniences was refrigeration. I bought two pounds of hoop cheese, cans of vienna sausage, saltine crackers, a large jar of dilled pickles, sodas, and two large cans of peaches. This food would make a delicious snack for Uncle and I.
To make sure I was headed in the right direction, I asked for directions to "Josh's Landing." Having learned earlier that my last name was Waters and that I was joining my Uncle at his lake home for some fishing, She exclaimed, "Oh, you are Mr. Waters' nephew." We are well acquainted with Mr. Waters'." She gave directions and said, "Good reports from our fishermen." The fish are biting real good."
As I drove into Uncle's drive, I saw him by his dock loading fishing gear into a boat. He heard me walking up, turned, and said, "Hello Butch." "I have been expecting you." "What you say we get some lunch." I said, "That sounds great. I have it right here for us." I began to spread our fishermens'lunch on the picnic table. We munched our lunch while enjoying the beautiful scenery on Lake Greenwood. We began to reminisce about past memories. Uncle Clyde had once owned a gasoline station, convenience store, and a clothing store combined. He had retired and leased this home on Lake Greenwood.
During my summer vacation months, I would work at Uncle's gasoline station. I enjoyed the company of Uncle Clyde. He was a good boss. I enjoyed the work and meeting our customers. I also enjoyed the pay. The year was 1959. I was fifteen years old. "Now, get a grip on this. "We were selling regular gasoline for 22-23 cents per gallon. We sold cans of oil for 15-25 cents per quart. Now friend, that would make you smile if you could fill up a sixteen gallon tank for $3.68." I pumped the gas, washed the windows, checked the oil and all fluid levels. I checked the air in the tires. During this summer month, oil companies were having a gas war with competing oil companies. Gasoline stations were in hot competition with each other up and down the Spartanburg S.C. highway. The gas prices were ridiculously low! My Uncle had someone construct and paint a large picture on plywood board. The painting was a huge red mushroom cloud bursting skyward. Below the plywood he had written with white paint, "Gasoline seventeen cents per gallon! At seventeen cents per gallon one could fill a sixteen gallon tank for $2.72! "Boom" We were at war!" You could travel from east coast to west coast and back for around $30-$35. I topped my tank off the other day. Ten gallons cost me $39.80! Some people cannot afford to travel on taxpayer paid highways to visit granma and granpa in other states. Enough! "I am grindng my teeth down." "while pumping gas at Uncle's station, I discovered I needed eyeglasses. When pumping gas near the pumps, I could see clearly. When on the other side of an automobile, I was squinting my eyes to read the numbers. When I got home, dad took me to have Dr. Baker, the optometrist, check my eyes. I was near sighted. As teenagers will do, some called me "four eyes." I got into more than one fight when some guy called me that. "I hated it!"
After lunch, I had gear to store in Uncle's boat. Uncle had already stored his. He used the 16' aluminum boat while his other boat was being repaired. We had a right smart of equipment. I should have noticed that Uncle had stored most of it in the stern. He had a fifteen horse power marine motor and battery that I would guess weighed 65-70 pounds. He said something that I would recollect with frightful memory. He said, "I have been doing some work on this boat, and I want to check it out when we are on the water." I really didn't think to much about this statement at the time. My Uncle took the drivers seat in the stern.
"Okay, Butch," That was my nickname. I was named after my dad's school mascot at Gardner Webb College, Boiling Springs, N.C. In dad's school annual was a photo of "Butch" on the first page. He was an English Bulldog. In the photo, his legs were slightly bent and wide apart. His chest was muscular and protruded outward. He had a sweater on with the name "Butch" emblazoned on the front. He wore a silly looking school beanie hat. His jaws were hanging low. He had this goofy stupid look on his face. It's as if he was saying, "I'm the big man on campus." Dad loved Butch's picture. "So, when I was just a small lad, I was nicknamed Butch. Most of my relatives picked it up. Uncle was ready. "Butch, push me off and then you jump in." I forgot to mention that Uncle could be overly zealous at times. This was one of those times. The bow was partially on land. A strong rope was attached to the bow. I gave a mighty push. Maybe to much of a push... The boat went quickly into the water. So quickly that I did not have time to jump in. My Uncle began screaming. "Help!! pull me in Butch, pull me in!" Too much equipment had been packed in the stern. Along with Uncle's weight and the weight of the motor, battery, and gear, water was coming over the stern. The boat was sinking! I grabbed the rope and began pulling with all my strength. My herculean effort created a small wake as the boat and Uncle Clyde, who was holding onto the sides with wide eyes and a terrified look came speedily onto shore. "Thanks Butch, I was sure the boat would sink along with all our equipment and the motor." From adrenaline and fright, I was bending over catching my breath, "Whew" That was close!
We motored to a special fishing spot. The fish were biting good. My Uncle Clyde was not only zealous at times, but he was frugal all the time. In other words, "He would squeeze the buffalo until it grunted." "Butch, go easy on those minnows. They cost five cents a piece." There were three dozen. 60 cents per dozen. "Uncle, next time, I will buy the minnows." Really! My Uncle enjoyed talking. No wonder the lady at the country store knew him so well. While she and Uncle talked, (I should say while Uncle talked) all she could do was smile and nod her head.
Uncle was primarily a self-educated man. He was very intelligent. He invented things. He had applied for patents on several of his ideas. There was a large work shop behind his house at Gaffney, S.C.
We caught a lot of fish. This evening they would be fileted and make their journey into hot oil. Golden brown along with the hush puppies. I fixed the slaw. Grated cabbage, Duke's mayonnaise, (Has to be Duke's)
chopped green pimento olives, some salt, and plenty of pepper. Remember, We had a lot of fish, so we tried not to waste.
We were zipping across the water with speed on our return trip to the dock. "Remember when I had mentioned that Uncle was overly zealous?" "Well, here is a perfect example." The boat was hitting the small waves and making a smacking sound as the bow pushed into the water. The boat would go up and then down. I was sitting on the middle seat holding firmly on the sides with both hands. My long auburn hair was blowing in the wind. We were going fast! Thank goodness I had already outgrown my freckles. If not, "I would have had them stretching backwards. All of a sudden, I felt a hand leaning against my shoulder. "Uh Oh! I hope this isn't who I think it is." As the driver of the boat, Uncle had left the pilot's seat. He was moving past me. "Boom, Slam." We were zooming and smashing into the water without a driver! "Uncle, I screamed in alarm. "Why arn't you driving the boat? We are in danger! What if we run into another boat or dock?!!" "Oh don't worry he says. "I made sure it was running straight before I came up here to check the motor's steering cable while we are running in a straight line. "Oh no." I remember now. He did say that he had been working on this boat. I stumbled quickly to the rear and began driving the boat. "Sit in the middle Uncle. Hold on and don't move."
We unloaded our gear, cleaned the fish, and fried them along with all the trimmings. They were delicious. Uncle looked at me sheepishly and said, "You know Butch, that was a stupid thing I did." I wasn't going to let him off the hook so easily. "Yes Uncle Clyde, that was a stupid thing you did." "Don't do it again." That wasn't the last time I went fishing with Uncle Clyde. He was my favorite Uncle. On this fishing trip, we bonded closer. Even though it was a frightful experience...
* This adventure happened in the spring of 1973.