This series of writings has been about the men who influenced my life. They are not in order of influence but in chronological order. Today I want to write about my Grandpa Watkins. His given name was Bruce and he was born in 1891. How I wish I could sit down with him today to ask him about his early years, but this cannot be done. I do have a photo of him on the wall of my office and he is pictured with his familiar overalls and is wearing a coonskin cap, tail and all and he is sitting with his favorite dog.
To my knowledge, Grandpa Watkins never learned to drive a car. My mom told me that Grandpa would come home from work and get his shotgun and dog and take off to the woods. This was a walk of five or more miles to reach the woods and the family depended on his efforts in order to have meat to eat. His game might be squirrels or coons and the family was not picky as this was meat on the table during the depression and the war years. I can remember going fishing with Grandpa and we always caught fish for dinner. He would bring in the stringer of fish and drop them in the kitchen sink for my Grandma (bless her heart) to clean and prepare for dinner. To say the least, he was an outdoors man of necessity. I am thankful that he was as I think I inherited my love of all things outdoors from him.
I know that he was a master carpenter and that he helped build Fort Chaffee in Fort Smith Arkansas. He would catch a bus on Monday to Ft. Smith from his home in Stilwell, Oklahoma and he would work all week for about $1.00 per day and return home by bus on Friday night. I don't remember him going to work during the times I spent a week or two in their home, though I am sure he did. He also sharpened tools and saws for a fee. He and Grandma grew a big garden and nothing was wasted. I have his handsaw and a wooden sheath he made to cover the blades. He also was a very talented wood carver. He carved with his pocket knife which was razor sharp. He would hand carve bean flips for us and he would practice with that bean flip all the time. He once carved twelve monkeys from peach seeds and placed them around a table he carved and he said that it was the supreme court.
He and grandma would come to our home in Arkansas and stay a few days with us from time to time. Dad and I would take Grandpa fishing. We always went night fishing for crappie. I can remember that Grandpa would never trust a rod holder. He would hold his rod so that he did not miss a bite. Many nights we would get home around three in the morning and I can remember Grandpa waking me up at seven, saying it was time to go fishing and we would go to a local lake and catfish the whole day. I do not know where he got the energy, but he could last much longer than us without sleep. He simply loved the outdoors.
My dad always loved big cars. He once bought a Chrysler Imperial. It was purple and featured gigantic fins on the back. It was loaded for those days and one feature was a radio that would change stations when you hit a switch in the floor with your foot. Grandpa was riding in the front seat with dad on a trip and dad started changing stations with his foot and continued until Grandpa could no longer take it. He said "Bob, you've got a problem with the radio that you need to get fixed."
There are so many stories I could tell you about Grandpa, but time and space will not allow. I remember one instance when he was cleaning his 12 gauge shotgun in the living room of their home. He was a very safe hunter but for some reason he left a shell in the old gun and as he was beginning to clean the gun it went off and tore the pages of the family Bible and blew the leg off of the coffee table. I don't think my Grandma was too happy.
Grandpa lived to the ripe old age of 85. They said he died because of smoking. He did love his tobacco. He smoked Prince Albert, roll your owns and eventually he switched to a pipe. I confess that I also loved tobacco and I probably came by this love from Grandpa. I can remember smelling that pipe and it smelled like heaven to me.
Grandpa was a good man. He loved kids and he always had time for us. He could tell great stories that would have us all laughing. He was an artist. He could make wood come to life with his little pocket knife. I doubt he received any education after grade school as times were hard as he grew up, but he was as smart a man as I ever met. I am thankful that I knew Grandpa Watkins and that he shared his life with the little children. I was twenty five when he left this earth and I regret now that I did not spend more time with this very talented man. I would urge my readers that even if you are older to seek out an elderly person from whom you may learn. Time on earth is short. I thank my Grandpa Watkins for always having a story for me and always teaching me about the outdoors.
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