The man in the Moon

I have known for over 55 years that there really is a 'Man in the Moon'.
I watched the astronauts land there in 1969, but I knew they wouldn't see him. Oh, he's there, alright, but you've got to know how to look for him.
I learned to do in back in 1954 when I was six years old.
I'd sit on my Grandpa's lap out in his back yard, when the mosquitoes weren't too bad.
He had a big wooden chair, I think they call them Adirondack chairs now. We would sit together and look at that big yellow moon through his old binoculars. When the clouds co-operated, we could see the 'Old Man' and imagine he winked at us.
When we got tired of looking at the moon, my Papa would tell me stories of his boyhood in Indiana. His tales were like reading Tom Sawyer and Huck Finn. I never got tired of hearing them.
As I grew older, we enjoyed many wonderful things together. He had been a great fisherman all his life, but he loved to take me down to some lazy river and rent a leaky old rowboat. He'd row while I bailed water out.
His smile would be ear to ear when I caught something, always encouraging me.
As I grew older, we deer hunted. He was with me when I got my first buck at age ten.
I believe he was reliving some of his youth with me.
My parents let me spend as much time with him as possible. His health was failing and his time was short, but I never knew it. I just loved every minute we shared.
As I grew older, Papa shared a bit more earthy knowledge with me.
He had an occasional taste for the spirits; to say he was a drinker would be an exaggeration, but he always had a bottle of 'Old Hickory' around and enjoyed a few cold Pearl beers.
Our county was 'dry', meaning you couldn't buy hard liquor. Papa and I would occasionally drive over the county line for him to buy a pint.
Papa had a friend, Oscar, that owned a small liquor store out in the middle of nowhere. A small building surrounded by corn fields on three sides. I'd drink a Coke while Papa and Oscar shared a sip of whiskey or a beer and talked.
The store had wooden floors and Oscar had a fifty cent piece bolted to the floor. We always enjoyed watching some unwary customer try to discreetly pick up the old worn down coin when they thought no one was looking.
Sometimes we would go deep down into the Brazos River 'bottoms' to an old beer joint.
Out back, there would sometimes be a cock fight between roosters. It was illegal, of course, but we were so deep in the 'bottoms' that the law seldom bothered anyone. The fights were brutal and exciting, with money bet on the outcome and much yelling among the crowd.
Once in a while, a fight broke out between a couple of men over some bet or grudge or woman. Mostly, it was the beer fighting.
That old juke joint taught me a lot about life, another lesson my Grandpa wanted me to learn.
We went to small saw mills to see lumber made; at another place I saw cane syrup made on a long trough over a wood fire.
Papa was a Foreman in a sulphur plant and let me see how sulplur was processed. We went on dredge boats in some backwater place to see hout they deepened the canals. He showed me a thousand things in what time he had left.
Many of the men he knew down in the 'bottoms' had worked for him at the sulphur plant. They were old now. He always checked in on them. I know now that was the main reason we went down there.
Some lived in shacks without even a water well. They would get water from a friend in two fifty five gallon barrels and use an old wagon pulled by two worn out mules.
A little money or a ride to town or a store made a lot of difference.
My Papa died in 1959. It was a time of segregation and most churches didn't have a mixed congregation. At his funeral, the entire balcony was filled with people from the Brazos River 'bottoms', all there to pay their respects and say 'good-bye' to Mr. Lee.
Of all the things he taught me, the most important was that respect among men is earned, not given.
I still have that old pair of binoculars; the leather straps have fallen off long ago and you can barely see through them.
But someday, maybe I can use them to show my grandsons how to look for that Old Man in the Moon.
The best place is out in the back yard, in a big wooden chair, when the mosquitoes aren't too bad.