Let Me Introduce You To The People You'll Be Reading About...

These are the main characters of my life. And, they are 100% real.

All of these people are or were at one time real. They are or were mainstays of my life either growing up or now. I want you to understand that when I write about these individuals, I am doing so from a place of deep love and respect. It is my intention to honor them and their lives, as well the role they have played in my life. These people have raised me, nurtured me, taught me, fed me, clothed me, yelled at me, set me straight, loved me, kept me safe, and made me who I am.

These people are good people. And, when you read these recollections of them, I want you to do so from that frame of reference: that they are good people. They are human. They are or were not perfect (none of us are). But, they are good, decent human beings who always tried to do the best they could with what they had.

Hopefully the reverence and love I have for these people will come through in these stories. This is in no way a comprehensive list of the aunts, uncles, cousins, friends, and others who will be in and out of these stories. I wanted to give you an idea of the people you will likely see recurring. So, if someone’s name appears in a story and they don’t happen be in this introduction, it’s not because they aren’t important to me. It’s just because they may not appear again in another story as a central figure or until much later in another story.

Mom. This woman is the central figure in my life. She raised me pretty much on her own for about twelve or thirteen years, until my little sister was born. She and my father were married for a while but divorced around the time I was thirteen. My mom is probably the hardest working human I have ever met. She is kind. She is smart. She is dedicated. She is the best person I know. She also has a low tolerance for bullshit.

Dad. Red Foreman, but rides horses. Genius with horses. Taught me to shoe horses. Taught me a lot of things. A lot what not to do. A lot of what to do. The most important thing he taught me was that sometimes a fight is unavoidable. One tough old bird. Taped an old shotgun together for me when I was a kid and made a toy out of it for me. Let me drive nails in boards to my heart’s content whenever he was building something. Used me for a counterweight on every 2x4 he cut with a circular saw. Is the reason I love yellow handled three blade Case pocket knives.

Sis. My little sister. She’s thirteen years younger than me and is closer to my daughter, than my sister. She’s smarter than I am. She was my little buddy when she was smaller.

Uncle Donnie. Taught me a lot of the carpentry skills I know. Was kind of like my second dad. Sarcastic. Loves Tina Turner. Sings with a really high pitched voice when he thinks no one is paying attention. Pretends to play piano on car dashboards to Creedence Clearwater Revival, according to Mom.

Papaw. Mom’s Dad. Lost his right eye to a piece of steel when he was a miner. Got his chest crushed in the same line of work. Black lung. Could write his name but couldn’t read. Genius with small engines. Strong, silent type. Also a prankster. Once outran the law AND a horse at the same time. One of the hardest working and most savvy men I’ve ever met. Wore Dickies work outfits and chewed Red Horse tobacco. Loved westerns.

Granny. Mom’s mom. Probably broke up somewhere in the neighborhood of 9 trillion green beans across her life. Probably canned somewhere in the neighborhood of 5 million cans of tomatoes. Whacked me on the hand with a butcher knife once. Was fond of saying “Confound it” and “Wasper ass”. Took turns with my mom rocking me when I had colic as a baby. Lost twins at birth. Always told me two things: 1.) That my hair looked like “Ponch” from “ChiPS” and that I reminded her of her son, Frankie, who passed when he was just a boy. Made a HUGE breakfast every Saturday morning and a HUGE dinner every Sunday.

Uncle Phillip. He’s like if Floyd the Barber, from Andy Griffith, was really, REALLY feisty.

Aunt Rita and Uncle Roger. My mom’s sister and her husband. They took me on a really cool vacation when I was about 13.

Mamaw. Dad’s mom. Picker of poke and plantain. Maker of sassafras tea. Religious believer in black drawing salve. Loved all her kids and her grandchildren fiercely. Loved a yard sale almost as much as she loved her kids and grandkids. Cussed sometimes. Her favorite insult was calling someone a “dumbcunt” — yes, all one word. Made approximately 780,000,000 pancakes in her life and about 9,000,000 gallons of gravy. Made us count rocks when we got out of line. Count 13 of them and “Dob Rob’son” would appear at the top of the hill. We never got to 13. Ever.

Papaw. Dad’s dad. Old coal miner and horse trader. Also a volunteer deputy sheriff. Kept a “Vote For Henry C. Hale” sign on his barn until the day he died. Had a foot locker full of guns for some reason. Is the reason my dad loves yellow handled three-blade Case pocket knives. Could swing his cane like a Jedi. Probably John Wayne’s number 1 fan.

Uncle Clyde. Skinny as a rail. Raised and fought chickens (shut your face. I don’t want to hear it). Would fight a running saw mill over his brothers. Always, ALWAYS, bit my cheeks when saw me. I loved this man very much. He was like my third dad. His sons were like my brothers growing up.

Boo-boo. Clyde’s oldest son. Sarcastic. Could catch fish with anything. Got ringworm on multiple occasions. Fought with his brother near-constantly. Hilarious. I can’t remember a time when he wasn’t feeding chickens.

Little Man. Boo-boo’s younger brother. Clyde’s second oldest son. The more serious of the two, but still hilarious. Once asked me how man “Elfies” I got on my report card. Always wanted to be Lex Luger when were wrestling on Mamaw’s porch.

Uncle Boge. Dad’s brother. Rode horses. Fox hunter. Ran dogs at competitions called “drags”. Had a different girlfriend about every other month. Was married once, but got divorced. I always remember him laughing about something. Once put tobacco on my back where a hornet stung me.

Uncle Howard. Dad’s other brother. Moved to Indiana once a bunch of times. First naked lady air freshener I ever saw was hanging off the mirror in his truck. Once decided his boots were too hot for his feet and used his pocket knife to turn them into sandals.

Aunt Norcie. My dad’s sister. She was the mother hen of every human who ever lived. Including me. My dad was fond of saying that she carried him until he 10 years old. I’m not sure that’s the flex he thinks it is. A wonderful woman who Boo-boo, Little Man, and I teased endlessly about her “boyfriend”, who really wound up being her boyfriend and then, later, her husband. She took all the fun out of our teasing with that trick. She talked about 100 miles an hour when she got excited.

Aunt Juanita. My dad’s baby sister. Nurse. Smart lady. Sweet lady. I’m pretty sure her yard flooded every time a drop of rain hit the ground. I loved her house. When she, Aunt Norcie, and Mamaw were in a room together, the speed at which they talked was …impressive.

Harley, Jr. and Rhonda. My dad’s brother and his wife. Had the nicest house I have ever seen and the one to which I have compared ever home I have ever lived in. Horse people. For REAL.

These will likely be the people you read about the most. These are the characters of my life’s novel. They are 100% real. The descriptions I’ve written of them are 100% real. Welcome to the holler, friend. Grab a five gallon bucket and stay a while.