The Storyteller

My dad was a story teller par excellence! His stories of his youth fascinated us all. He had a very dramatic presentation that left you on the edge of your seat! He liked to tell “bear” stories in the middle of winter when the wind whistled around the corners of the house. He peopled the woods around our house with all sorts of other beasts and bears. Whenever we kids would have a gullible guest he would tell these stories of ravenous beasts. We old-timers took it all with a grain of salt. Surely if our woods were full of these beasts we children would have been eaten a long time ago. His stories were enthralling to the uninitiated.

Though I will say there WERE some monsters in the woods. One night when Dad and the boys went coon hunting, they ran across a bull in a pasture and spent some time up in a tree. We wondered why they were so late getting home. We didn’t have cell phones then!

Usually in the evenings at supper we all heard every detail of his day of work at the mine. We felt we knew every individual that he talked about.

As I got older I encountered a few problems. Dad did not like boyfriends. Very few of them passed muster. And, of course, you all know the old saying, “You have to kiss a lot of frogs before you meet the prince.”

One fellow came around who did think pretty highly of himself. One day he came and was complaining to Dad that he had a toothache. Dad said, “Well, we can handle that.” Dad’s idea was to give him a “chaw” of the plug that Dad chewed. I was alarmed at the whole thing because I was pretty sure what would happen. To the uninitiated, a dose of that tobacco had a profound effect, but he didn’t listen. He bit off a big chew and unfortunately he swallowed some of it. Oh my! He turned the most peculiar color of green. The next thing I knew his 6’4” frame was spread out on the ground and stayed there a good while. When he finally staggered up, he made his escape. After that, he was scarce around the house, and he married someone else.

By the time Steve came along, I had just about given up on finding a soul brave enough to stay. But, no worry! Steve loved the tales, listened to his advice, treated Dad with tremendous respect. They genuinely liked each other. It got to the point where Dad actually thought Steve was coming to see HIM, and I was incidental.

They remained friends till Dad went home to glory. I expect now they have run across each other and renewed old ties. Dad has glorious tales to tell now. In my sanctified imagination, I see them touring Glory together telling tales.