the''one armed ash whuppin''

[balestabber]

i grew up on a small farm in the midwest.times were tough and we wasted no meat or shells as we survived off the land.dad lost his left arm in a corn picker and us kids had to help him alot thru the years.from bed'n down and sloppin hogs to pack'n all those small squares of hay.alot of work with little play.

but ,one hot summer day the city cuzzins,aunts and uncles made a visit from the big city.the city kids thought that the livestock were fun to chase and could ride the 170 pound shoats(hogs) as they came to the water tank for a cool drink.it was about 103 degrees that summer day as dad came driving in the driveway and see'n them cuzzins ride'n those hogs.i'm sure now he was only see'n dollars as he was take'n off that leather belt and there was no time for explain'n or excuses.it was fast and swift and to the point and as cowhunter says he learned em.I learned to ride a horse that dad raised and broke himself.my brother enjoys his mule,but them city kids won't ride anything unless it has a motor and wheels.dad only had one arm,but you'da thought he had 3 or 4 when he gave an ash whuppin that day!!miss ya dad

 

[burnt]

Well how about that, balestabber, you and I have at least one thing in common.

My dad lost his left arm only 6 weeks after he and mom got married, 1939, I think.

He was an electrician hooking up someone's service the day before a new powerline was scheduled to be turned on.

But someone turned it on a day early and he got zapped big time. He was lucky to survive and the only reason he did was because the switch at the road blew.

But he didn't let it slow him down much and through ingenuity and determination did almost as much as an able-bodied man so we kids never thought of him as handicapped.

If that happened today, he would be in for a multimillion dollar settlement and life-long payments but I understand that he was offered a few dollars and he took it and walked away . . .

 

[jigs]

my older cousins tell the story of my grandpa catching them riding the pigs....he told them to each get a switch and go wait behind the chicken coop and he would be there to beat them.
as they all waited for the punishment they decided to go oldest to youngest, hoping he was tired before poor little Joe got his turn,.

3 hours later they realized he was not coming out, and they went on to play ....but they never messed with his hogs again!

 

[cowhunter]

Great story. We never messed with grabdaddys hogs. Out side of throwin a few corn cobs at them. We knew better.