Introduction
Howdy, y'all! Y'all ain't laborin' on Labor Day are you? I hope not! Get that cup of coffee ready! This is a seven-page article!
Thanks for stopping by, to read a while! In August 2021, I had 8,377 total views on my website. I mentioned it, in my 9/1/2021 article. I'll keep writing. I've been a writer, since grade school. Y'all keep reading. It's this modern way of communicating, apparently. Of course, you can e-mail me. Click the E-mail button. I will then share my phone number. (Sharing e-mail addresses and phone numbers is harder, due to all the dang spam e-mails and calls – unless we know how to block most of them!)
Yesterday: well, here I “sot,” as Dad would say, on a cloudy Sunday afternoon (when I had begun to write). House Mountain (My Mountain) hiking season is near. I chose not to start my hiking season yesterday. An afternoon hike would have been warm and muggy. I would have had to change from sweaty T-shirt into dry T-shirt, after a hike, if I had hit the trail.
I was tempted, however, to hike yesterday afternoon. My “bionic” body felt its oats well enough – despite the Weigels mini cheeseburger I ate for dinner (or lunch, as the Yankees call it) on Saturday. On Saturday, the hunger growl had started, as I was driving to get gas and haul trash. My '08 Nissan Frontier was hungry for more 100% gas. I was hungry. We both ate. My truck ate better than I did!
This article is a “life, such as it is,” update – divided into four sections. I hope that it helps your “life, such as it is!” It helped mine, to write it.
Family Heritage
September 3, 1959 was a Thursday. My Mom (Betty Lou Wood Ferrell, 11/24/1932 - 12/27/2000) and Dad (Earl H. Ferrell, 9/17/1927 - 1/25/2008) married. The wedding ceremony was at Calvary Baptist Church, in Morristown, Tennessee. I wasn't around yet. Mom and Dad, as they told me, enjoyed their honeymoon in Virginia Beach, Virginia. I have photographs that are in Mom's photo albums. I may publish them, in time.
I was born, just over ten months later, on 7/17/1960. As a small boy, I remember that Mom, Dad, and I lived with Mom's parents and relatives, in Morristown, Tennessee. Eventually, we moved to rural east Hawkins County – Dad's home county. I have many facts and stories packed away, in the archives of my mind and on paper. (Search my website, by topic section or “Mom” or “Dad,” and you can find other articles that I've written, over the years.)
Well, on 9/3/2021, while I “enjoyed” my work-a-day at the “Hadean Realm” office, I remembered. I wonder if any of my three younger brothers remembered.
September 4, 1901 was a Wednesday. My Mom's Dad, Aby William Wood, was born. He was the second son of Gideon Mark Wood and wife Gertrude Roleva Bair. Papaw Wood left this world on 3/14/1983.
Papaw Wood turned 58 the day after he gave away Mom to marry Dad! I had wondered, as a boy, what he thought back then. Papaw told me, when I had grown into a young adult, that he was about as happy as a man could be!
I scanned the above image yesterday. The original is from one of Mom's photograph albums that I have been keeping safely here at our house. (I placed the original back into the album where Mom had placed it decades ago.)
Granny and Papaw Wood celebrated their 48th wedding anniversary, on 8/26/1979. I was age 19. I was there, so I remember. Mom has many other photographs in her album that I may scan and publish, in time.
The above image was published in a Citizen Tribune (Morristown, Tennessee) newspaper article. I remember that Granny and Papaw did not wait to their 50th wedding anniversary, as they thought that one or both of them would not live another two years.
Papaw Wood (born 9/4/1901) went Home, on 3/14/1983. I remember, sadly. I was attending East Tennessee State University (ETSU) and living in a small apartment. I drove home every weekend. I sat with Papaw, in his hospital room, on weekends. Granny Wood (6/16/1901 - 8/12/1991) lived longer. I was honored to have performed her funeral and graveside services. Mrs. Appalachian Irishman and I were living in Charleston, Missouri. We drove back to Rogersville. Granny had been living at the homeplace, with family, after Papaw passed. I wonder, in 1979, if Granny and Papaw knew that Papaw was having health problems. I wonder if they told Mom. As far as I know, only the Good Lord knew that Papaw Wood would live just over three more years. I still wonder if Papaw Wood knew what he didn't share with anyone else – even his wife. In 1979, Papaw Wood seemed to be doing well, for his age.
Well, on 9/4/2021, Saturday, I remembered that Papaw Wood was born, on 9/4/1901. I wonder if any of my three younger brothers remembered.
Fall 1977 to Spring 1978
I was a senior at Rogersville High School. After school, on Wednesdays, my part-time job was to insert the second section of The Rogersville Review into the first section, as the second section came off the old Linotype press. I have many memories on file in my mind. I remember them well – despite my “multi-trauma,” of 3/29/2016, that included a concussion, from which I recovered fully.
I very well remember Eleanor Sheets (publisher and editor) and Mildred Shortt (columnist, among other “hats” that she wore), as well as others. Eleanor Sheets upheld an exact grammar and style in the editions. She would not have allowed the grammatical errors, over which I try to gloss, in the modern The Rogersville Review.
March or April 1995
I can't yet find the following The Rogersville Review article on the “Interweb.” (I'm still working on it!) The article was included in a March or April 1995 issue of The Rogersville Review – my hometown newspaper. The article title is “Ferrells Live Dream of Adventure as Missionaries in the New Russia.” (I corrected the improper lack of capitalization.) The image, below, is a photocopy. I have been saving the print edition over 20 years.
I recommend that you enlarge the image, to read the details. I did. The details are correct, mostly. By the way, in 1995, I had learned that the Russian word is “mарихуана.“ It is a transliterated word. In late 1994 or early 1995, before we took our six-month furlough, I had no clue what “mарихуана“ meant, in Russian. It's weed, man!
Our first mission work (two weeks only) was in Jamaica, in 1987. There, a man offered me ganja. He called me “John Wayne,” since I was wearing a large “sky,” or hat, which I still have. I have never smoked or inhaled the stuff – unless the second hand smoke, at a Kiss concert, in Johnson City, Tennessee, got me. The man said, “come take a look in my shop” (a large tent in the straw market). I replied, “you pay me $5 to look; no guarantee that I buy!” He agreed! I kept walking – with a bit of a smile!
8/9/2021
The 8/11/2021 edition includes Jeff Bobo's 8/9/2021 sermon of introduction, as the new editor of The Rogersville Review. He wrote a fine sermon. (I should know, since I've outlined and/or written many sermons, in English mostly, with some in Russian.) He seems like a good northerner that became a good southerner (as Mom did). (Sidetrack, with apology: what is the difference between northerners and Yankees, who move south? A northerner blends in, by respecting and admiring the southern culture. A Yankee tries to change us. Yankees can go home! Northerners are welcome!)
Hey, Jeff, you referenced the late Illinois State Senator GeoKaris (or Geokaris). The proper spelling is Geo-Karis, according to that Yankee 2/12/2008 Chicago Tribune article. (That's my minor editorial correction, with apology.)
The quarter (25 cent piece) that the late Senator Geo-Karis gave you was a turning point in your life! I enjoyed getting to know you, by reading your comments! I have had several turning points in life. I am inspired to contemplate a future article, titled “Turning Points in My Life.” I encourage you to write a similarly titled article!
By the way, the late Senator Geo-Karis' name, from Greek, is γεω (“earth,” from which geography, geothermal, etc. come) + Χάρις (“grace”). It seems that she lived up to her last name, by having given you that quarter. I hope that she had accepted the Good Lord's free-gift offer. If so, I will enjoy conversing with her at Home.
9/2/2021
The above photograph is from a 9/2/2021 article, in The Rogersville Review. One of my cousins wrote it! The website link, for the article and the above photograph, is: New Choptack drive-in brings back memories of the old Jolly Roger, on The Rogersville Review, by By Becky Ferrell, 9/2/2021. Click it (if you have a subscription)! Did you, if you're a subscriber? I hope so, if you are. I'll wait here, until you read the article.
Now, y'all just hold your britches! See the next (Family) section, below. I want to do a little “Banty Rooster” crowing, as I'd done, in my 6/8/2021 article, for my cousin!
Family
My cousin and I went through grade school and Rogersville High School together. We graduated high school in 1978. Her great grandfather and my great grandfather were brothers. My cousin has lived in and visited several countries. (I wish that she would create her website, to include the details – instead of using “Farcebook.”) I haven't seen my cousin, since high school graduation. I know her well enough, by “Interweb” contact. The next time I get up to my hometown, I hope to see her – if we can arrange it.
My cousin is in print – as of 9/2/2021! I am crowing like a Banty Rooster for my cousin! She wrote The Rogersville Review article of 9/2/2021! The article is listed previously. (I'd correct The Rogersville Review's failure to capitalize the main words, if I were the editor.)
That's a good article, Becky! I enjoyed reading it! I remember when some of us boys hid on the bank, beside the Jolly Roger. We had walked there, in the dusk to dark, and back. We saw several movies for free! We could hear the car speakers, which were close enough to us, well enough. We saw a few of those almost naked girl shows also. (I'm sorry, Mom! I never did tell you!) Once, the Jolly Roger almost caught us, but we were able to run off in time! Those were great times!
Yes, I did pay to see a few movies there too – or Dad paid for us, when I was a boy. When I was old enough to drive, I paid my own way into the Jolly Roger. I think that I had a date with me a time or two. I don't recall much of the movies, when I had a date with me. We were doing other things. (Again, I'm sorry, Mom! I did behave as a gentleman – mostly!)
I am crowing like a Banty Rooster, for my cousin, Becky Ferrell! Keep up the great work, 'cuz! On that “thar” “Farcebook,” send me one of them “thar” “IMs,” with you phone number or e-mail address. I can let you know, much easier, the next time that Mrs. Appalachian Irishman and I will be in our home town! We can plan a get together!
By the way, Becky, please tell Jeff Bobo: if he will pay me a quarter (25 cents), for my time, I'd be glad to write an article for The Rogersville Review. Also, please tell Jeff that he needs to have his folks update the “about” section on The Rogersville Review's website. It doesn't mention him yet.
Friends
God inspired King Solomon to write the Old Testament “book” of Proverbs. I know. I will meet anyone who disagrees, in an arranged and formal debate. Any challengers? I didn't think so. If I have a challenger, I'll let y'all know.
Proverbs 18:24 states, in part, by NIV translation from Hebrew, “there is a friend who sticks closer than a brother.” Well, that's true. I have several friends, who stick closer to me than at least one of my three brothers. (One brother is trying to live off government Monopoly soup, apparently. That's not how Mom and Dad raised us four boys!)
I have had a friend and brother in Christ, since the fall of 1984. He and I shared a dorm room, in Paul Gray, when we attended Freed-Hardeman University (or College, as it was called then). I could unpack the memories, in my concussion-recovered brain, but I won't – for now. My brother and friend lives in Arkansas. He is five years younger than me. (I had transferred to Freed-Hardeman College, as an “old” man of 24 years, in the fall of 1984.)
My friend and brother “Roy” and I communicate at times. He calls me “Merrill.” It's been our joke since 1984. “Roy” was a missionary in The Ukraine for ten years. He visited Mrs. Appalachian Irishman and me, when we were living in Moscow, Russia. “Roy” and I haven't communicated with each other in a while. Well, we spent an hour or two on the phone together over this last weekend. “Roy” is a friend and brother who supported me, by his calls and e-mails, in the early days of my “bionic” recovery (3/29/2016+) – better than other friends did, on an ongoing basis. Thanks, “Roy!” I had needed your frequent support and communication back then!
Well, I don't mean to slight other friends! I have a number of friends that I know will stick “closer than a brother.” They have done so many times. I have a couple of brothers that I know will stick close as brothers, if I need them to do so. Thanks, Lord, for the blessing of close brothers – biological or spiritual!
Hey, “Roy,” when are you coming to this area? You still owe me a hike on My Mountain with me! I wish that Mrs. Appalachian Irishman and I could drive to meet you half way. That approximately four or six-hour drive would be too much. A drive of more than about two hours or so is enough for my “bionic” body – at this ongoing stage of my recovery.
Conclusion
Well, I'll wind this article down now. It's about 4:30 PM, on Labor Day (9/6/2021) Monday. At least I didn't work from home, for the “Hadean Realm,” today! I think I'll publish this article now. I have a “poly-tics” article to write – when I get around to it. First, however, I recon I may call my three younger brothers, to see how they are getting along.
Y'all keep turnin' right and goin' straight out there, ya hear! If you do, we'll see each other at Home, eventually! Until then, I hope that you enjoyed this article. I enjoyed writing it.
Today was almost my first hike of the 2021 - 2022 hiking season. I thought about it. I decided to get this article “under my belt” first. Watch out for articles on my future hikes. I see them in my mind now. I'll GERD (git 'er dun) – as the Good Lord wills. I have power and will in my “bionic” body!
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