The Neighbors
The Neighbors
By H. Leon Slaughter
President and Manager
Legacy Publications, P.O. Box 725, Edgewood, TX75117
Editor`s Note: Be sure to read Slaughter`s story, which has an O`Henry ending that will surprise you! His unique company publishes Family Life Stories at (903) 896-1034.
Down a little narrow country dirt road, and across a creek, three miles from the small town of Edgewood was where we lived. That road was either dusty or muddy depending on the weather. Two or three times every year we had a big rain; the creek got up and flooded the roads and bridges. Then the only way we could get to town was horseback or in a wagon with the end gate out so the wagon bed wouldn`t float off like a boat.
In the spring of 1932 we lived in a different kind of world. Ours was a typical East Texas family farm. At that time almost everyone in this area except a few merchants and professional people, earned their living from the soil on their farm, plowed and cultivated with horse or mule drawn equipment. If anyone today lived as everyone in the rural areas lived then, they would be considered living in very deprived and almost impossible conditions. Things like electricity, indoor plumbing, refrigeration, hot and cold running water could only be dreamed about. TV and air conditioning had not even been invented. My parents got their first radio after I finished high school.
We did have a car and a telephone, both of which were somewhat rare. The car was a Willis-Overland Daddy bought new just before the great depression hit in 1929. By 1932 we couldn`t drive it much even though gasoline was only fifteen cents a gallon. Most of the time we didn`t have fifteen cents.
The telephone was a box about 16" x 30" fastened to the wall with a mouthpiece out the middle, a receiver on a hook on the left side and a small crank on the right. When we called someone we would pick up the receiver and turn the crank. We were on a party line with six or seven of our neighbors. When one phone on the line rang, all others on the line rang. Each one on the line was assigned a different kind of ring. Our ring was four longs, our neighbor`s was three longs and another`s was two longs and a short. If we called someone on another line, we rang one long and central operator would connect us. You talk about personal service, we had it. Those two ladies who ran the central switchboard knew where everyone in the surrounding area were all the time.
But, you know what? We were happy. My parents never made a great thing about telling me and my brother and sister we were loved, but we knew it. I don`t remember ever being punished very much, however, always in my mind, the worst thing that could happen to me would be for me to disappoint my parents. We never had much money, but we ate good. Almost everything we ate was produced there on the farm.
All of our neighbors were wonderful people. We all helped each other. Daddy had a complete set of all kinds of tools in a blacksmith and carpenter shop as well as a lot of things in the barn. We never locked anything and never missed anything. We only had one key, the key to the car, and we left it in the car. We were afraid if we took it out we might lose it.
Our closest neighbor`s house, the Valentines, was only about two hundred yards from ours across a field with a well-worn path in between. They were like part of our family. The Valentines were all hard working, honest, caring Christians and Baptist. We were Methodist, but that difference was never a problem. Every summer their church had a revival and we went with them to their church. Then when we had our revival, they went to our church with us. Mrs. Josie (Valentine) was like our second Mom. Jim was one year younger and one year behind me all through school. We hunted, fished, worked, played, and grew up together. He came to A & M one year behind me, graduated, and after a Masters Degree in Agronomy, distinguished himself as a soils scientist. He had a little brother who sometimes got in our way when Jim and I wanted to do our things. I will tell you more about him later.
In that spring of 1932 I became very sick at school. They called home and Daddy came in the car and took me to our family doctor, Dr. B. B. Brandon. He diagnosed my problem as diphtheria, which he said was a very dangerous disease. It has since been almost eliminated in this country by vaccination. He gave me a shot of something. Following the doctor`s orders, Daddy took me home and put me to bed.
Then it started raining, and it rained, and rained hard, and then rained some more. I was getting worse, having a hard time breathing. In the middle of that night Mama thought I was going to die. I could hardly breathe, and they couldn`t take me to the doctor because the creek was up. Daddy called Dr. Brandon to see what could be done. Yes, Dr. Brandon made house calls, lots of them, when he could, but he couldn`t get there that night because the creek was up. He told Daddy if he couldn`t get to me soon I might not live till morning. He said he would drive his car down to the creek and someone should cross the creek in a wagon and bring him on over to the house.
Late that night when Daddy called the doctor, all the phones on our party line rang. Everyone who was awake and heard that ring in the middle of that dark, rainy night knew something was wrong and went to his phone to hear what it was.
When Mr. Valentine heard Daddy talking to Dr. Brandon, he said, "Leslie, you stay there and take care of that boy. I`ll go get the doc."
Hardy Valentine was not what could be called a careless risk taker or even very brave. But I am sure he never thought about his fears or emotions when he lit his kerosene lantern, put on his rain slicker, and started toward his barn. Out there that dark raining night he woke up Pete and Red, his mules, and by the light of his lantern, harnessed and hitched them to the wagon. After taking out the end gate he started Pete and Red down that dark road toward the creek. Most of the time he could not see the road but his mules could. The road leading up to the bridge on each side of the creek was lower than the bridge. The wagon was in water for about one hundred yards, with a bridge somewhere in there that he couldn`t see. It was a dark night, raining, and that bridge with no banisters was partly covered with water. He said he depended on those mules and God to take him across. Then he came back across that water and a bridge he thought the mules could find to bring the doctor that saved my life. Those two mules and God took him across four times that night. Yes, count`em. Can you believe a doctor making a house call in the middle of a dark rainy night in a wagon?
Since that night seventy years ago I have lived a lot, seen a lot, and done a lot, some of what I hope made life a little better for others. I also have a fantastic bunch of children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren, and a lot of friends I care about.
Oh yes! That little brother of Jim`s that kept getting in our way. He became Dr. Foy Valentine, one of the great leaders and writers in the Southern Baptist Convention. All of his contributions to Christianity would fill a whole "nother" book. After retiring from there several years ago, he establishedChristian Ethics Today Foundation and was editor of its publication, Christian Ethics Today until he retired again a couple of years ago.
The Valentine family, Hardy, Josie, Jim, and Foy has influenced my life more than they ever knew and more than I am able to tell them. As Christians we have been told to love our neighbors as ourselves and our neighbors are all mankind. A good place to start might be the neighbors close by.
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