Steve, you know more about the paternal side of my family than I do!
The house was further off the road when I was a child, they'd cut that new road through some time I guess in the 60's and that road cut out the shed where the 1909 corn shucking picture was taken.
I had never heard the Charlie Poole story! Thanks for talking about that.
Granny Laura was a musician, there was a piano in the formal room. Subsequently Dad became a guitarist, cut a number of records, played with Red Foley, Mac Wiseman, and Bob Wills. Bob Wills tried to hire Dad as lead guitarist, but for whatever reason, Dad turned him down.
Race car driver Curtis Turner was Dad's 2nd cousin. They hated each other.
Dad was a bootlegger, was busted hauling a load in 1954 after blowing his engine. This probably contributed to the divorce in '54, as Dad was one angry individual. My brother and I didn't see Dad again until 1957. I never questioned Dad about those years, should have. I was kicked out of Mom's house and moved in with Dad in November of '63. He threw me out and I hitchhiked to North Carolina, lived on the streets for two weeks until I lied about my age and got a job working 2nd shift in the cotton mills, and went to school half a day. Picked up a room in a boarding house for $10 a week and worked my way through high school. Joined the army the day after my 18th birthday for the free education. Knew nothing about the Vietnam war.
And, I never stopped moving where ever I saw opportunity. Never had any ties to much of anywhere, so it wasn't an issue just picking up and leaving where ever I was at the time. Never belonged anywhere. After all, 18 different schools before finishing high school.
And here I am now, living at the Robertson homestead - Mom's Mom's home. Sometimes, like this morning, I still have the wanderlust. I know that if I wanted to, I could pick up the phone and go back to work in some marvelous place like Detroit...... That "why bother" syndrome. In life, I always corrected situations by just moving somewhere else.
Here is some pictures of my 48 with a friends 1939 Chief. Mine now has the Chummee seat on it instead of the solo in these pictures. I think the solo looks better but the Chumme rides better.
1959 Austin Healey Bugeye Sprite.
My dad had a red one that I use to race up and down Oregon Route 255 (OR 255) i Carpenterville road. It was highway 101 years ago. It is 27 miles of corners A LOT of corners. I remember helping him get it running, and at age 14....driving it all summer long. I wished he would have kept it.
