“After Grandpa got out of the Confederate Army he still kept his powder dry. I used to help him mold bullets to go squirrel hunting. There was a kind of dipper in which the lead was melted over a pin-knot fire. Then the molten lead was poured into a form to make a bullet. It was better to have a couple persons working at this. Once while Grandpa and I were doing this job he told me this story.
He said there were two very old men attending a funeral. In those days they called it ‘a burying.’ It was at the community cemetery. After the coffin was lowered into the grave, the clods shoveled in, and the dirt rounded and patted, the crowd drifted away. That is all except two old-timers who aimlessly hung around the mound. Finally one of them approached the other and said, ‘Dan, how old are you?’
Dan said, ‘Well, I’m ninety-four.’
His old friend said, ‘Well, Dan, there ain’t much use for you to go home, is there?’”
Excerpt from The Last Stitch, Memoirs of William L. Crosthwait, M.D., Great Uncle of Memphis Icon, Jimmy Crosthwait (http://porchscene.com/2013/07/15/julys-featured-artist-the-world-of-jimmy/ )
Related Posts
