This is a book of short stories of the life and accomplishments of Hank. He was a Depression baby; his father was a successful mill worker and entrepreneur, buying and selling land. His mother was a school teacher She gave up her career to raise a family.
The Hank's Stories
By Hampton Forbes Jr.AuthorHouse
Copyright © 2012 Hampton Forbes Jr.
All right reserved.ISBN: 978-1-4772-2886-9Contents
Chapter I Preschool.................................1Chapter II Grade School Era.........................9Chapter III High School Era.........................31Chapter IV Covington Era............................42Chapter V Delaware Era..............................62Chapter VI Retirement Adventure.....................86
Chapter One
Preschool
I am Hank a DEPRESSION baby, born November 5, 1930, the son of Lucy Hinton Forbes and Hampton Edward Forbes, after whom I was named. Mom was a retired school teacher; she put her children before her job. Dad was a mill worker (foreman in the pulp mill). I had three sisters, who are listed according to age: Lavera Ailice, Dorothy Agnus, and Dreama Arbutis.
We lived on the outskirts of town; our backyard was eight acres joining Hot Springs Mountain. From the front porch the Jackson River could be seen, flowing with clear blue-green virgin waters. This was a child's paradise; it also had a creek flowing from the mountain to the river. (It contained lizards and crawfish.) It was also a retreat for Dad and Mom. They had a garden for vegetables and flowers; also, they had chickens, pigs, and a jersey cow, which supplied us with milk and butter.
Hank stories started at a tender age. I really don't remember this story; however, I will repeat it as I was told. Early one morning Mom bundled me up with blankets and left me warm and serene in the cradle; she gathered her milk container and headed for the barn to milk the cow. I was quite an active child, kicking, tossing, and turning in the crib. When she returned, I was entangled in the blankets, black and blue from lack of oxygen. She survived me never to leave me alone again.
Somehow I was now a special baby (boy).
I remember the next story. I was in a baby gown. It was a hot summer night, and I was in bed with Mom and Dad. I don't know how this got started, I was crying for a corn silk cigarette. I remember Dad getting out of bed and going to the garden for corn silks. I don't remember if the cigarette was lit. I was pacified and went to sleep. This should have been a warning of things to come.
My next story happened at age three. We had a rock wall parallel to the road in front of our house; it had an opening about three feet for a gate. The top surface was eighteen inches wide with a smooth cement cap, perfect for running. I was not allowed on the wall; however, I would sneak on it and just fly. I spent more time looking back for Mom than I did looking forward. Thinking I was getting away with something, I didn't see the gate opening, I glided to a fall on the opposite side. My head and knees were skinned and bruised. Seeing blood, I squalled even louder. The neighbors thought my parents were killing me. Well, no more rock wall for a while.
I was hardly healed when I went under our front porch to play. I loved to play dangerously; I climbed on an old cook stove and jumped off. There was an accumulation of old barrels, hoops, boards, rakes, shovels, and junk around the stove. When I leaped I didn't pick a clear spot; my head hit the shovel, and I fell against other items. I had a muddy face with blood; it looked worst than it seemed. I thought they are going to kill me. Hoping to get sympathy I got up squalling, knowing I would soon get attention. Immediately Mom arrived, panickly. She said, "Hankie, what have you done this time? She carried me to the kitchen and cleaned me up. After removing dirt and blood she discovered cuts between my eyes there were two cuts resembling an airplane. It wasn't bad however I now had something for show and tell. The scar has been with me ever since. Needless to say, under the porch was now off-limits. Just in case I ignored the warning, a lock was placed on the entrance. As I grew in wisdom and understanding, my parents felt I needed to be with children of my own age.
Now being five years old, they enrolled me in kindergarten. It is similar pre-K of today. This is where I learned to play with others without getting hurt. I was introduced to reading, writing, math, and art. I was very good at art. I got a little creative; my masterpiece was the east end of a westbound cat. This got a chuckle from my fans but not from the teacher. That masterpiece and being introduced to the opposite sex was the downfall of my kindergarten career. I was homeschooled until starting the first grade.
Our backyard had a beautiful elongated pool (pond) about two feet deep. It had goldfish, lilies, and floating flowers. It was like a showplace especially when the flowers were in bloom.
* * *
I started a new game around the pond. Only I knew the game was tippet. I would lure others, especially boys, to get closer to the edge and bend over while watching fish and smelling flowers. This is where the tippet came into play. I would give a quick push on their shoulders and tip them in. This didn't go well with their parents or Dad. My famous words were, "I didn't do it; they just lost their balance." I was broke of this early; Dad gave my brand new stripped railroad coveralls to one of the victims. This is when a fence went around the pond; finally it was filled in to prevent future temptations.
Prior to the pond being filled with dirt, a group of ladies came to admire the pond fish and flowers. Mit was a robust lady, big in stature, who weighed about x pounds. She was leaning over and saying how beautiful it was; one huge flower caught her eye, and she decided to catch its fragrance. She had footing on a rock that tilted. You have never seen such a sight; down she went headfirst, her legs separated and sticking up like the forks in a tree. Mom, being very excited and not knowing what to do, hollered for Forbes (Dad). He came rushing out half dressed and in a tea shirt. Seeing the site he made an about—face and back in the house he went ... all I could say was, "I didn't do it I was twenty-five feet away as a bystander." The women got together, forcing her legs and thighs down, and finally, after a few bubbles, her head popped up for air. They used a small ladder to assist her to stable ground. When I wanted to gig Dad, I asked him what he saw. He just said, "We don't want to talk about it." I only wish I had a camera. I could have won America's Funniest Home Vidoes.
Aunt Garnet lived three houses from our home. I frequently went by for a visit. She was a good cook and often had available pie or cake. I was a little bored this day, and I headed for her house. I pecked on the door, and she invited me in. While sitting behaving myself I noticed a big nickel box of strike-anywhere matches. Aunt Garnet asked me what I wanted. I answered nothing except mom wants to borrow some matches. She gave me a handful and said be careful and go straight home. Well I built a couple small fires on the way home. I struck every match; I now know every possible way to strike a match. I went back to Aunt Garnet's. She came to the door and said, "What is it, Hankie?" I said, "Mom needs more matches." She said, "Hankie what did you do with all those matches?" She said, "You get straight home before I call Lucy (Mom)." Well, she figured me out in a hurry. I went home and took a low profile for the rest of the day. I think Mom knew what I did. Well, a Mom gotta do what a Mom gotta do.
I was such an active boy. I would often wander off like this, especially when Mom was busy and unaware of my intentions. She solved the problem by hiding my clothes and keeping me naked to prevent me from wandering. Well this wasn't any fun at all. It was worse than being locked up. After a few days I decided to break western.
I quietly sneaked out of the house without slamming the door. Off I went to Aunt Dot's house. I don't think anyone saw me; I only passed two other houses. Arriving at Aunt Dot's, I knocked on the door. It was a little chilly; I thought she would never answer the door, but finally she did. With a surprising look she said, "Hankie, what are you doing without clothes?
You are naked as a jaybird. She put a large shirt around me to cover the family jewels. She took me home. Mom, seeing that I was naked, said, "I don't know what I am going to do with that boy."
Mom was having a luncheon for the women of the church. She said, "Hankie, you be a good boy, and when they get here don't say bad words." In the middle of lunch I went in and introduced myself, I then said bad word, bad word, bad word. Everyone laughed; mom didn't think it was funny.
Grandma lived on the corner down from our home. I was still quite a wonder. I decided to sneak off to her place; it started raining harder and harder as I reached her backyard. I began running to the back porch; it was muddy and very slippery. I fell forward face-first, sliding about ten feet and making a crash landing face-first. I made a sudden stop when my head hit cement. Seeing stars and thinking I was dying, I let out a groaning yell that brought the whole family to rescue me. As they reached me I was on my knees, nose and head bleeding, mixed with blood and mud. It was a scary mess. All I could hear was, "Oh, that boy. Call the doctor." After everyone settled down they washed my face and head, splashing alcohol all over my wounds. It was decided I wasn't going to die, so they forgot about the doctor. After the alcohol burned for about ten minutes they walked me home. That walk home was worse than the fall. I didn't know what to expect. Surprisingly, it was okay. Mom said, "Poor little Hankie. He has been hurt again." Well, I had another scar for show and tell.
To keep me closer to home, Dad bought me a new fishing pole. He didn't use a barbed hook; he bent a straight pin to simulate a fishing hook. He baited it up stringing oatmeal on it; that's what we fed the goldfish. He opened the gate to the pond, and I was now fishing. The object of the straight pin was not to hurt the fish but release them unharmed. I became a fishing pro. I think Dad started the first catch and release. Dad was pleased I could finally do something without getting hurt. They gave new privileges, and I could spend time with Grandma.
Grandmaw was house sitting for the Camels while they were on vacation. One day she invited me to go with her. When reaching the property all I could see was toys, toys. It was like Toys "R" Us. I began to play with various toy guns. I especially liked a Roy Rogers handgun. I grew so attached to it that I carried it home with the intention of returning it later. As the days passed I was still playing with the gun. I didn't have a chance to return it. Dad saw the gun. He questioned me of about its whereabouts. I began to tell him of the many toys I discovered while at the Camels' estate. Surprisingly, nothing else was said. The next day Dad said, "I'm going fishing tomorrow morning. Would you like to go?" I replied, "Yes, surely I want to go." We got our gear together. And Dad said, "Pick up the gun you were playing with and bring it along." I thought, "Wow, this is a treat—fishing and playing with the gun. We had no transportation to our fishing spot. As we walked we would pass by the Camels'. Well, big surprise, Dad said, "Take the gun down and tell them you are returning the gun you stole." At this time I wasn't sure whether I wanted to go fishing or not. When answering the door, I quickly announced my presence. I explained about playing with the gun and carrying it home.
The lady of the house said, "Honey, you keep it. Clyde has too many toys anyway. I thanked her but said, "No, thanks. I'm going fishing." Dad had a big smile on his face as I approached, and he slightly rubbed my head. I thought, "Wow, I got out of that one. Mom and Dad were very strict when it came to stealing and lying, I tried to stay on their good side. They are loving and understanding parents.
Somehow I acquired firecrackers, I must have traded something for them. This was a no-no, according to Mom and Dad. They knew I was a bomb ready to explode. I played with them, placing them under tin cans, rocks, and in containers under water, and I practiced lighting them and throwing by hand. I saw a neighbor, Louise, in her front yard. I was getting mischievous and brave. My intent was to get close enough, light the cracker, and surprise her throwing it at her feet. However something went seriously wrong. I lit the firecracker and was slow throwing it. I got the surprise of my life when it exploded in my fingers. It felt as though I was hit with a sledgehammer. Not only that, my ears rang for a week. This you don't try, and if you do, keep it to yourself. Today's troubles are sufficient.
Dad wasn't too strict; however, he didn't believe in allowances. He was one of a kind; he would buy us anything we needed or asked for if within reason. He just didn't hand out money. In other words, no work no money. It was a training that remained with you. I had two areas of work. One was pulling weeds from the garden; it didn't take long, especially if the ground was damp from a rain. Its reward was fifteen cents a row. You picked the row clean of unwanted weeds. Dad would check each row. His comment is, "Anything worth doing is worth doing right." My other job was picking rocks for fifteen cents a pile in the pasture. This wasn't too bad. One day I needed extra money so I decided to make a reduction in the piles, resulting in more piles for a given time period. Dad paid me for each pile. I thought I had pulled one until the next day when he examined my work. I should have known Dad was a follow-up. That was his profession (supervisor); it has more work. I had to equal out each pile to match the sample pile. Again Dad repeated his saying of doing it right. I learned you give a day's work for a day's pay. This has been with me over my employment years.
There was an airport on Mcallister's Hill. It was high above the city of Covington. When I could sneak off I would go there and watch the planes take off and land. Braising I went up to John the pilot and said, "What is it like up there?" He said, "If you have a dollar you can find out." I was fortunate. I had just finished seven piles of rocks. Off we went, I was riding shotgun with a safety belt on. We flew in and out of the clouds; they simulated large cotton balls. Things below looked very small, as if seeing a miniature world. He said, "What do you think?" I said, "This is great. It really is the excitement I had hoped for. What about a dive?" He said, "Are you sure you want to try that?" I agreed, and he handed me a paper bag. I said, "What is this for?" He said, "It's for just in case you get sick (upchuck)." Well, straight up he went; my face felt a little tight. He leveled off and down we went in a swirling motion. We were over two smoke stacks at the Rayon Plant. They looked like they were dancing. He then leveled out. I was a little dizzy, and he said, "Now what do you think?" I just said, "I got my dollar's worth."
I was getting more of an upset stomach. He said, "Are you all right?" "Yes," I replied. "I think I will stay closer to the ground in the future. Mom doesn't need to know about this adventure."
In later years, John and a salesperson were going to the Homestead for dinner and a meeting. The area around the Hot Springs airport was fogged in on the mountain. While trying to find the airport, John undershot the airstrip and crashed on Warm Springs Mountain, killing the two of them.
At the end of our front lot was an alley called the green lane; its name came from foliage, grass growth with poison ivy and grapevines. We often played there; we had horsehoe pits and other sports. On this day no one was in the lane area. The older guys were in the neighbor's yard playing ball. They threw the ball above their head and tried to catch it when coming down. I didn't have a ball. I looked around and found a rock about the size of a tennis ball. I began to pitch it up and catch it on the way down. I gave it more force, sending it higher. I put my arms up in a position to catch it, but the rock came through my hands, hitting me in the mouth. What a lick; my lips were bleeding, and it felt like glass in my mouth. I spat in my hand and teeth particles came out. Now I know they are going to kill me. I went home hollowing for Mom. She said, "What is it now?" I explained the situation as she came toward me. After a glance she said, "I don't believe you; you have ruined yourself for life." They took me to the dentist; he said my teeth would continue to grow until I was twelve. I wore an upside down v in by my upper front teeth. All I want for Christmas is my two front teeth. When I was about twelve the broken area was filled with gold. Now I had two-tone teeth. They stayed with me until I was married, and then I had them repaired with caps. This was while living in Delaware.
Chapter Two
Grade School Era
I went to Rivermont Grade School. It was about a one and a half mile walk. No one rode a bus; you either walked or your parents were well off enough to afford a car. We didn't get a car until the forties. School was great, and also, you could be a little creative and have more excitement. We didn't change classes; we just went out for recess or physical education. When having a break I would groom my curly hair; my face might be dirty, but my hair was neat. When returning from recess, Jewel, a large, stocky girl who outweighed me by about sixty pounds, would pass my desk and ruffle my hair. This was where she got her kicks, especially when the whole class went into a uproar. Getting very uptight, I would hold my temper and give her a special smile. My wheels were turning. How could I get even with her without being near. I slept on it; the next morning I had the answer. I got a roofing nail left over from one of Dad's jobs; it was about one and a half inches in length. It stood upright due to the large head. I arrived early that morning and placed the nail in a position to catch the weight of her thigh. As she came in, I was seated. She passed by and smacked me with an upward swing to the back of my head, and then she giggled. I didn't even look up; she flopped down in her seat and came up like a flopping chicken and squalling like a panther. She looked at her seat to see what it was. While standing, her dress was creased and humped in the vicinity where the nail pierced her rear. The class erupted; I kept my cool, however. The teacher said, "Mr Forbes, go to the office." My famous words were, "I didn't do it." They couldn't convict me. I volunteered no information; no one saw me place the tack, and I wasn't near her when the excitement began. I think she got the message—, don't mess with the hair.
At Rivermont School, I was attracted to girls and vice versa. Daisy was a girl I kidded with; she was in by class. We spent our spare time together. She was a tall, lanky blond; her legs were extremely long, especially for a girl. She was a head taller than I was. The class was out for recess. She began rough housing me, punching arms, legs, and body, also messing up my hair. She gave me a goose egg on my arm. That was enough; I caught her ponytail and gave it a backward pull—big mistake. The chase was on. I was ahead of her, but she, with those long legs, began to catch up. I knew if she caught me I was going to get hurt. As she got in reach of me, we both were flying. I suddenly, without warning, dropped to my knees and ducked. With her momentum out of control, she flipped like a wagon wheel, legs and arms rotating like spokes. She got up with a little help from her friends. When she became a little more stable she said, "You little—. I will get you later!" From then on I needed eyes in front and back; I knew somehow it wasn't over. Later on we called a truce, I was happy for that.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from The Hank's Storiesby Hampton Forbes Jr. Copyright © 2012 by Hampton Forbes Jr.. Excerpted by permission of AuthorHouse. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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