The Battle is On

My grandfather was a giant. Seriously. He also fathered two generations of children. Now, that's not as hard as it sounds. He had three wives (not all at once) and three children. My aunt was 21 when my dad and his brother entered the picture from wife number three. He actually was in his late fifties when my dad was born in 1915. Papaw was born during the Civil War and actually participated in the Oklahoma Land Rush. That's another story. Somewhere oil wells are pumping away on the useless farm land he sold, I'm sure.

Even with all of this uniqueness what really made him memorable was his height. In an age when an exceptionally tall man was six foot he stood six feet six inches. With broad shoulders and huge, work hardened hands he was an imposing figure. I was very small when he died so I only have vague memories of sitting in his lap, but family lore has painted a picture of a man that was big in every way. I remember pictures of him standing with his grown sons, both of whom were six feet tall and being literally head and shoulders over them. They looked like children next to him.

Naturally, he married my grandmother. She was the local school mistress and a consummate horsewoman. She also was about four feet eleven inches tall! I can tell you this, every inch of her was feisty. She produced two healthy sons, eleven months apart, which would have earned her everlasting love from her husband if he hadn't already been besotted. To this day the thought of the creation of these two boys causes me to be reduced to giggles. Granny and Papaw looked like a St. Bernard and a Jack Russell terrier when seen together. The only pictures she would have made he had to be seated and she would be standing next to him. Then they were about the same height.

Now don't get the idea that everything was rosy. Granny was an educated woman and believed in using her own brain. Papaw was older and of the school of thought that the man got to do the thinking for everyone. He was dictatorial, loud, opinionated, narrow-minded, and slightly pig headed. She was devious. They hardly ever agreed on anything, especially politics. She was a republican, naturally he was democrat. They never fought, they skirmished. There were no loud explosions but lots of maneuvering.

Election day was eagerly awaited by everyone on the farm. From children to the help, everyone tried to be around to witness the battle. You see they knew, since they would never vote for the other's party, that if they both voted they cancelled each other out. So, whoever got to the polls first got to vote and the other just missed out. Papaw would fire the opening shots by announcing at breakfast that he would be cutting hay and would be bringing in extra help for the day. That meant that Granny would have her hands full with cooking all morning to get ready for a huge lunch for the hands. Feeling satisfied that she was secured he would leave for the fields, knowing he could slip away to town to vote. She would retalitate by sending one of the boys to town to get supplies in their only vehicle, thus keeping him from leaving the farm either. After lunch he would return the favor by sending the blacksmith to fit new shoes on one of the horses, knowing she would never leave him unsupervised with her darlings. This attacking and counterattacking would go on until one of them managed to get to the polls. The winner would then hold gloating rights over the other.

Granny was a staunch Baptist and so was Papaw, which is about the only thing they agreed on. Everyone went to church on Sunday then back to the farm for dinner. The only thing Papaw loved more than eating was preaching. So everyone would settle in their chair and get ready for him to bless the meal. This was his pulpit. Soon he was explaining to the Lord that as wonderful as his world was, things could be improved if the Lord would just follow a few suggestions. When that topic ran out of steam he would pray for all the sinners he knew and since he often got pretty specific, this was a well attended portion of the prayer. When he finally got to the repentance portion of the prayer, Granny would be getting pretty antsy. After all you can only keep food hot so long. She would wait patiently for him to take a breath, then she would stamp her foot and shout "AMEN".

For all their skirmishing they were an oddly formal couple. She always referred to him as "Mr. Gaines" and he called her "Miss Sallie". They were old fashioned in all things and would never be so undignified as to show public affection. However, they remained a devoted couple until she died. He spent the rest of his life watching the door, wishing she would soon be bustling through it, fussing at him for being late to dinner.