By David O. Heishman –
“Stanley. You Damned old fool, you.” Mrs. Kate Warden had a legendary voice. I remember it well.
Last time I heard her utter those words my Pap, Mr. Bob Peyton and I were sawing wood in Mr. Stan and Mrs. Kate’s back yard. Stan had gotten a load of wood slabs from somebody. They were dumped whole in his back yard. Good oak slabs, but they needed sawed to stove length.
Pap had a three point hitch tractor mounted cutoff saw. He’d agreed to work up Mr. Stan’s wood for him. One Saturday afternoon I drove our “new tractor” a Ford 1953 Jubilee, with saw mounted, over while Pap and Bob, followed in the car. Bob Peyton was our farm help at the time.
Mr. Stan was off somewhere, but we set up and got started without him. I was carrying slabs to the saw, Pap was sawing and Bob was off bearing. Not long after we started, Mr. Stan came home.
Out of his old Model A Ford car he came, straight towards us. Marched right up to Pap, got between him and the saw and commenced to yell and wave his arms around attempting to explain how long he wanted his chunks cut.