Way back when the Fox went to a union meeting. There was a vote called for by the union boss on a motion that the Fox didn't vote for.  The union boss poked fun at the Fox.  The Fox got up and left the meeting after telling his riders he would wait for them in the car.  After the meeting the guys came out to the car.  Among them was the boss who still poked fun at the Fox through his open car window.  The boss reached through the open window and smacked the Fox so the story goes.  That was a mistake.  The Fox got upset and tried to get out of the car which the boss was holding shut.  The Fox shoved the door open with his foot damaging the door and the boss.  The Fox did a bit more damage to the boss.  No one offered to take the boss to a first aide station so the Fox did. The Fox was a caring person but one shouldn't upset him.

I don't remember the year or the occasion. Just the event. We (everyone, it seems) were at the cabin on Dewey and someone (can't remember who) asks, "Who wants to go fishing?" It was a bums rush down to the dock where 7 of us showed up. Normally not a problem, except for the fact that it was a four man boat. Someone (don't know who) said, "No problem. We can all fit." So, Paul, Kyle, Dave, Little David, Andy, Denny and I all pile into the boat. I'm not sure that we didn't grease up first so we could all squeeze in. I remember motoring (slowly), making our way to the other side of the lake at the far end casting lures as we went. I DO remember thinking that the water was unusually close to the top of the gunwales. We were on the far side in a cove when someone (probably Dave) caught a fish. A lot of excitement ensued, and I turned just in time to see one brother-in-law, who WAS standing fall into another brother-in-law. I remember thinking that the nose of the boat looked like it was coming up at a heretofore never seen rise. I knew we were in an unusual place. Especially as water started pouring in over the back corner where two bodies were struggling to upright themselves. As the boat continued to rise in the front the angle was such that all of the boats occupants were tossed out. I remember Paul, all of 12? at the time saying, "Hey dad, what should I do with this?" as he held up the tackle box. I was holding Kyle, about 8 and 2 fishing poles. There was flotsam and jetsam all around us. (Actually just a floating gas can and a couple oars.) We were about 15 yards from the shore and we all swam that way with the items we managed to save. Depositing our treasures on shore we all went back to rescue the boat. Apparently, lines from the boat were floating (or someone stayed back holding them). We grabbed the lines and tried to pull while swimming. It was pretty tough going. By that time, Davy (even another brother-in-law) was there in his boat watching the activity. After struggling for a minute or two with the boat he said, "You might do better if you pull in the anchor." Arrgghhh! We finally managed to get the boat to shore next to a dock. We put the boat across the dock upside down to empty it of water when the dock owner came out. We apologized for getting his dock wet and for using it when he said, "That's ok. It happens all the time." I did a head shake and an internal "What!!?" but kept it to myself. These northerners could be crazy and I don't want to set them off. We were concerned for the motor because, as we were dragging it to shore, it bubbled and gurgled a lot. We righted the boat (looking cleaner than it had in years) hooked up the gas and it started right up. Apparently none of us were fast learners as I recall we all wedged ourselves back in the boat and motored (slowly) back to the dock. That\'s my memory. What say the rest of you who were there?

I remember the Fox had twenty acres across the highway from the house. The upper part was flat, a cliff that dropped about 15 to 20 feet, and then a swampy part with a creek running through it. It was heaven to a guy about 11 years old with his own 22 rifle and revolver. I would often walk to the property from the house UNDER the highway through a huge drainage pipe. Pretty cool! On the top, the Fox had cut in a figure eight with the lawnmower and whenever we would go there he would let me drive (either) the riding lawnmower or the vehicle we were in. Great fun for a young kid. It couldn't have been more than 1/8 mile but I'll bet I put on miles there.

I was in my 3rd year at the University of Missouri and was running late for my morning class.  I couldn't find a parking space so I went ahead and parked in a faculty private parking space. I made it to class barely on time.  After class I went to my car and on the windshield I had a ticket.  Harold was my uncle and also the head city detective in Columbia.  Not having much money I decided to go to the police station and talk to Uncle Harold.  Maybe he could fix it.  At the police station I found Uncle Harold, told him my story and asked him what I should do.  He said to follow him.  I followed him throughout the station.  It was quite a tour.  He even showed me the inside of a jail cell down stairs in the basement. While I was checking the interior of the cell Uncle Harold locked me in and left. After about 20 or 30 minutes Uncle Harold came back and unlocked the jail cell door.  He looked at me and said, "Pay the fine".

When we first moved to St. Louis we lived in the Clinton Peabody Projects in the city. It was relatively new and the apartments were quite nice. We lived on the second floor and it was a long staircase down to the front door. I was about 9 or 10 and Tom was four years younger. He was learning to ride his new tricycle and rode around our apartment.  One day - and I don't know if it was planned or an accident, -  but he rode that trike down those stairs. I can't remember what happened with that, but he's still here.
Tom, if you have any corrections or additions to make to this, please feel free to post them. Also, what was your outcome from that trip down the stairs?

So, one evening back in '69 after the tornado had destroyed my house in Farmington, the Fox and I were watching the news .  We had been working all day reconstructing what was left.  After the news I pulled out a harmonica that I had recently purchased.  I said to the Fox that I was going to try to learn how to play the harmonica but had been told that it was kind of complicated.  The Fox said, "Let me see that thing".  I handed the harmonica to the Fox.  He looked at it for a moment then placed it to his mouth and began to play it.  The Fox was almost as good as Stevie Wonder.  Yep, I was 28 and finally got to hear my Dad play the harmonica.

When Tom and I were kids, one of the favorite things to get at Easter was a baby chick. They were dyed in all different colors. I often wonder how many of them survived. Baby chicks are so fragile, and once kids took them out of the gift box,well, ____ who knows?  Well, one year at Easter we got one of those little chicks.  She was so sweet and solid pink and we treated her with TLC.  We named her Biddy, and she grew to be the biggest chicken you ever saw and she turned solid white.  She would follow you around and if you sat down, she would just jump right up in your lap to sit - and maybe go to sleep.  She didn't know she was a chicken. Maybe she thought she was a puppy.

The time came when it just didn't work out to have a chicken in an apartment in the city, so we took her to the country to our grandparents farm. We figured she'd be happy to join a bunch of her kind. Big mistake! She didn't know what all those critters were, who responded to cockadoodledoo, laid eggs, and spent the day pecking at the ground. 
We had to put her in the fenced-in yard all by herself.  When someone came, she would run out to meet them and if anyone sat down, she was right up there in their lap.
   It was a sad time when Biddy left us for chicken heaven.

As I recall, this was a continuation of the same trip mentioned elsewhere here. To reiterate, it was COLD!! I would like to think it was only the intrepid that would fish, but in retrospect, it was probably the 'Don't know enough to get in out of the cold' crew. We motored up Lake Taneycomo at a pretty good clip. I think we figured that the faster we got there the shorter the time spent with the air hitting us. I remember sitting in the bow, facing the rear, trying to make myself as small as possible. Hat, gloves, boots, hood, heavy coat, not enough. We reached our favorite spot - and it started to sleet! The sound of all that sleet 'tinking' off of that metal boat was interesting. We threw our lines in the water, started drifting and CATCHING FISH! I am pretty sure I made Tim and the Unc angry, because every few minutes we would have to troll upstream to where my line was tangled somewhere on the bottom. That didn't bother them too much. It's when I got my line untangled and pulled it in that got to them. That's because about 80% of the time, it was caught with a nice trout on the end of the line. I don't remember how many I caught, I just remember that it all of a sudden wasn't so cold.

Once upon a time, a long time ago, my uncle told me a story about the Fox. Now the Fox was my Dad and Mikes Granddad.  The Fox was a quiet and caring man with a bit of a temper.  As the story goes the Fox and some of his working buddies went to a union meeting.  During the meeting there was a vote called on a proposition.  The Fox was one of the few in opposition of the proposition.  The Union Boss made some disparaging remarks to those in opposition.  Rather than getting into an argument with the boss the Fox quietly got up and left the room. He told his buddies he would wait for them in the car.  When the meeting was over and the crowd was walking by the Fox sitting in his car the Union Boss made some disparaging remarks directed at the Fox as well as reaching through the open car window and slapping the Fox. That was a mistake. The Fox tried to open the car door which the Boss was holding shut so the Fox kicked the door open injuring the Boss a little. The Boss was injured a little bit more by the Fox and the crowd walked away. No one would help the Boss because of what he had said and done to the Fox.  So the Fox being a caring man put the Boss in his car and took him to the first aid station.  The Fox was a quiet and caring man with a bit of a temper.

It must have been about 1969 or 70 and the Unc came driving up to our house on San Angelo. He had a new car to show off. It was a Lincoln from about 65 or 66 with the rear suicide doors. We oohed and aahed. It was pretty cool with all of the options available at the time. As the Unc left, I remember him, sitting in the car, with a very straight posture, wearing a hat (maybe a fedora) smoking a cigar. He said he liked to smoke stogies in that car because the air system would draw all of the smoke out of a vent at his feet and he liked seeing it curl down and out. I guess a Lincoln can turn anybody into an old man!