Summer Hiatus by Samuel E. Warren Jr.

 

“Surf’s Up” on Yahoo News

Summer Hiatus

by Samuel E. Warren Jr.

 

I write.

 

I love to write.

 

I write something almost everyday.

 

What To Write

 

The challenge of being a writer is knowing that people will read what you write.

Even after you “Officially Retire” as a writer, you may still want to write and know that you have readers.

 

A blog is an outlet for a writer. Of course, there are so many blogs in cyberspace that a writer has to try to figure out how to attract and keep readers.

 

I remember a rule from an English Creative Writing Class in Galena High School: “Write About What You Know.”

 

When you are 13 to 16, you really do know more than you think you do. You just have to figure out how to put the words on paper to interest the reader.

 

Naturally, when you are 57, you have a lot more “Life Experiences” to write about than when you were 13. I sit at a keyboard and the words flow. I am blessed because I have never really had a problem with “Writer’s Block.”

 

I have been away from the blog for a few months. The problem was not the writing or the words. The problem was “The Writer.”

 

Readers’ Comments

 

I have never wanted my blog to be a “Dear Diary” that focused on the mundane routine of Life like, “I got out of bed today. Nothing really noteworthy happened.”

 

I have always aspired to try and find issues to write about that challenge my readers. I read the comment forms on my blog. The comment forms seemed more and more to be robotic software trying to carry out it’s own “Sell You Something” agenda. I periodically go through and delete the obvious email spam.

 

I wasn’t getting feedback and comments from readers that often. March 2013 arrived, which meant the “kids” my nieces and nephews would be out of school.

 

“School Is Out For The Summer”

 

“School Is Out For The Summer” takes on a different meaning in The Republic Of The Philippines than in the United States.

 

The kids were out of school. It seemed a perfect time to “Go On Holiday.”

 

I grew up on a farm in the United States in The Ozarks. The idea of a vacation or a holiday is just not a concept that always translates that well to my mind.

 

Farming is a 24-hour a day job that lasts seven days a week. Forget taking off The Fourth Of July,Halloween,Thanksgiving and Christmas.

 

Livestock does not come with calendars, cattle, horses, hogs, pigs, chickens, dogs and cats all expect to eat. Even the humans, regardless of the holiday or the day of the week, still expect to eat.

 

On a farm, Mother Nature is always The Girl Next Door and she seldom cooperates with your wishes. When you need rain; you will get a drought. When you need a dry spell; you will get a monsoon of rain.

 

“The Extremes” Of Farm Life

 

Since the constant fluctuation of temperatures never seem to be enough for Mother Nature you can count on “The Extremes” in the United States. The United States is a “temperate climate”, which means we have four seasons, but temperatures and weather conditions can always be in “The Extremes”, during the season.

 

The four seasons often have The Extremes. If you expect a comfortable summer; summer will go in the record books as “One Of The Hottest Summers On Record. If you expect a mild winter; winter will break all the records and be “One Of The Coldest Winters In History.

 

In Farming, the weather NEVER cooperates. The chores on a farm are not something you can do in a few minutes and get on with your day. Farming is hard work.

 

In Missouri, by the end of the 20^th Century, small family farmers had to have “public jobs” just to make “ends meet” and to be able to “earn a living.”

 

On Leave

 

Before I enlisted in the United States Air Force, the recruiter told me about “Leave.” I would get “30 days a year.” The word, “Leave”, meant I would be “On Vacation” for 30 days every year with pay. It sounded like a great deal. It was.

 

However, at the time, there were just a couple of items, the recruiter kind of overlooked explaining in detail. First, it is not an absolute guarantee.

 

If the United States is at War – you might not be going “On Leave”, during that year.

 

Second, you have to request the dates you want. The Needs Of The Mission always come first. If you can get the dates you want, then, you get them. However, you may not always get the dates you want.

 

The military, like the civilian world, realizes everyone “Needs Time Off”, so vacations are scheduled. No one ever explains the procedures to wide-eyed kids ready to enlist.

 

“The Needs Of The Mission. . .”

 

Third, “30 Days Paid Vacation Every Year” looks good on paper. Uncle was “True” to his word. I could get my “30 Days.” However, there was no guarantee all those days would be together as in getting “A Month Off From Work.” Sometimes you might get a week here and two weeks there. At the end of the year, you could sit down with your calendar and pencil and Uncle had always kept his word.

 

The Magic Phrase in The United States Armed Forces at the time was : “The Needs Of The Mission Come First.”

 

Since I served in the United States Air Force The Magic Phrase was: “The Needs Of The United States Air Force Comes First.” And, of course, the word, “Needs”, was simply another way of saying, “Mission.” The Mission Of The United States Air Force Comes First.”

 

Regardless, Uncle Sam, also known as, The United States Government did their best to make sure I got my “30 Days Leave” a year; if I wanted it.

 

I came from a family of “Workaholics”, so the concept of, “Vacation” was always more the idea of “A Working Vacation” or “A Vacation On The Road.”

 

As Sam The Senior Citizen Writer, the idea of “A Vacation” is still not something I can relate to or even really appreciate.

 

I used “The Vacation Time” to back away from the keyboard. I did not write articles to publish for my blog.

 

Printer’s Ink

 

However, my calling in life was, “News.” I worked as a reporter and editor for several United States Air Force newspapers. Printer’s ink has always flowed in my blood.

 

On duty, Uncle Sam spent a tremendous effort to teach us the specifics of journalism from punctuation and grammar to the ethics of “Objectiveness.”

 

A Military Reporter like a Civilian Reporter was suppose to be an independent and impartial observer, who collected the facts and wrote a balanced story, which offered both sides of the story to allow the reader to decide.

 

The Editorial Page

 

On duty, we were taught never to “Slant” a story. “Reporters do not have opinions,” would state the numerous editors time and again through the years.

 

Opinions, Comments, Commentary are all saved for The Editorial page. If you have an opinion, a comment, a commentary, a personal view on an issue or situation, then, you write an Editorial for The Editorial Page.

 

In retirement, I am still a newsman, which means I keep up and read the news.

 

However, since I am retired – My Opinions are my own. I often express my opinion in print.

 

The Opinion Man

 

My favorite news source is Yahoo. My Yahoo News Page lists The Top Stories, Yahoo News, ABC News, Associated Press and Reuters. I glance at the headlines and select stories to read.

 

I have always been “A Man With An Opinion.”

 

I read a story and being the emotional person that I have always been – I always have an opinion.

 

I go to the Comments section of Yahoo News and leave my opinion in the form of a Comment. To find my Comments simply look for the names: Sergeant Sam or Samuel Warren in the Comments section.

 

Life has taught me when you Live long enough You will have an opinion on everything.

 

I have Lived past the Half-Century Mark, so I definitely have an opinion on every issue imaginable

 

I choose my words carefully to get my point across. I am not a “Politically Correct Person”. I am well past the silly stage of “Political Correctness” in my Life; so I don’t play the silly word game.

 

I do not pull punches with my comments. I write what I believe. I usually write like I talk.

 

Country Boy Commentary

 

I am a proud country boy. Thus, I tend to use the colorful expressions of The Ozarks often in comments and editorials. The expression, “I told them how the cow ate the cabbage”, means the speaker was angry, mad and upset to the point that he opened his mouth and let the words fly.

 

“How the cow ate the cabbage”, is just one example of an Ozarks expressions that has a colorful way of getting to the heart of the matter to express an issue.

 

Politics

I find Politics invigorates. It is a challenge to bring people together on a variety of different social issues. The goal is to get people to reach a working compromise on an issue for a domestic or foreign policy.

 

Still, I have little use for professional politicians. Professional politicians try to wiggle around an issue to arrive at a solution.

 

When it comes to American Political Parties – I am a Democrat.

 

I grew up in Stone County, Missouri, in The Ozarks, which is one of The Most Devout And Hardcore Strongholds of Republican Politics in The United States.

 

In my opinion,The Grand Old Party is conservative to the extreme and cements Christianity into the approach to changing social issues. I grew up exposed to that stringent political philosophy in the southwest Missouri Ozarks.

 

Since my twenties I have worked in political campaigns against America’s “Greedy Old Politicians” and their problematic, pilgrim, political party platforms.

 

I have no use for Republicans.   

 

Religion

 

I have no use for Religion.

 

Religion is the Providence Of Fools – created by Fools and for Fools.

 

Some people have a Fear Of Death, so they seek some belief that when The Day Of Their Death comes – they will not cease to exist.

 

Instead of an intelligent person using their mind to reach a logical, rationale solution, some people do what centuries of people have done before them and turn to the flawed fairy tales of The World’s Old Major Religions.

 

The temptation of the insane and archaic prophecies by old dead foolish storyteller prophets seems to entice many people to believe.

 

Many people never seem to stop and question what it is the prophecy is asking them to believe in.

 

In Catholicism, Christianity and Protestant religions you are expected to believe in a ridiculous old dead Arab hippie criminal who destroyed business property. Jesus Christ The Bum, who trained as a carpenter,never worked a day in his life.

 

In Islam, you are expected to believe in an old dead Arab prophet, who could not use religion to unite The Arab World, so he proclaims on-going Holy Wars to destroy The World for Allah, who created The World.

 

Regardless of which silly faith of The World’s Old Major Religions that you fall victim to – you get to spend an Eternity with a Jealous, Hateful sadistic, psychotic, misogynistic entity, who really enjoys punishing people and destroying them for the fun of it.

 

“Who gets to be The Martyr Today ?”

 

Religion is of Fools, by Fools and for the Fools, who are afraid to experience the reality of Life.

 

Thus, most of my Comments will be found in Politics and Religion.

 

For All The World To Read

 

I leave my opinions for all the world to read.

 

When you put your opinion out to the public; you can expect feedback. Not everyone will agree with you. The purpose though of putting out your opinion is to get people to think and express their own opinions.

 

At first leaving comments on Yahoo News was simply “Putting In My Two Cents”, but, now, it is an opportunity to get my ideas out there to The Readers Of The World. It is a daily task I enjoy.

 

Since I love to write, I will continue to write articles for my “Sam I Am Blog” and my “Samuel E. Warren Jr. The Prophet” blog.

 

However, I am not going to be as “deadline driven” as I have been in the past. I want to continue to inspire, motivate and challenge fellow readers on Yahoo News.

Sam

“Opal” The Hog Farmer by Samuel E. Warren Jr.

Parental Portrait for Christmas

 

“Opal

The Hog Farmer

 

Opal

Missouri Hillbilly

Opal M. DeLong Warren, would proudly proclaim to someone she had just met, “ I am a Missouri Hillbilly.” Opal may not be The Show Me State’s First Woman Hog Farmer, but, she should certainly be in the rankings as “One Of Missouri’s Most Prolific Women Hog Farmers.” From 1960 until 1982, Opal had 25 sows of the Yorkshire, Hampshire and Duroc breeds that raised litters of pigs that averaged 12 to 18 pigs per litter. Of the awards that she earned in her lifetime, one of her favorites was the year, the Galena Chapter of the Future Farmers of America presented her with a Chapter Farmer Award.

by Samuel E. Warren Jr.

In 1960, momma and I moved to a farm in Missouri. Through the years, her herd of hogs would expand to 25 sows of Yorkshire, Hampshire and Duroc breeds.

 

Our United Nations of Pork would welcome litters of 10 to 18 pigs, running, rooting and squealing over the landscape for 20 years.

 

In the process, the 10 acres of land would come to resemble the lunar landscape thanks to the dedicated snouts of hogs rooting into the soil. The air was always fresh and clean.

 

Of course, when the wind shifted and the aroma of hog manure assaulted your nostrils, people would always reconsider their “Tom Sawyer” and “Little House On The Prairie” philosophies of “Life In The Country.”

 

“The Good Ole’ Days Of Pork Production”

 

Hogs always got the “bad publicity” for the smell of livestock manure in the country. Every time people “pushed” to implement “Planning and Zoning” one of the favorite fairy tales that the critics would shout is, “You don’t want your neighbor to put in a ‘hog farm’, next to your property.”

 

The Planning and Zoning argument is silly. If you have a “sensitive nose” – stay the hell away from a farm !

 

Hogs always got the bad publicity. Yet, all farms have barns, barnyards and feed lots. It does not matter if the farm is a dairy farm, a cattle farm, a mule farm, a horse farm, or a horse ranch, livestock takes care of their daily body functions. When the breeze shifts, your nose will notice. Manure is manure and it always smells bad.

 

Nonetheless, the 1960s through the early 1980s were “The Good Ole’ Days Of Pork Production,” when hog buyers through the country would stop by and pay you top dollar for a litter of well-fed feeder pigs ready for market.

 

Lost In Place

 

“Green Acres” was one of my favorite television shows as a kid. Eddie Albert played the New York City lawyer, who moves to the “boonies” to live the simple life of a farmer. There was a major element of truth to the script; you really do need “a successful lawyer’s salary if you want to be a farmer in the United States.”

 

Hungarian bombshell actress, Eva Gabor played the role of the New York City socialite wife, who was miserable living out in the “boonies” on a farm. The actresses discontent is another major element of “truth”: rural life is not as convenient as city life.

 

In Galena, Missouri in 2011, the nearest hospital was at least 40 miles away in Springfield, Missouri and Aurora, Missouri. There is also a hospital about 25 miles away in Branson, Missouri. Medical emergencies rely on the ambulances and sometimes medical helicopter flights.

 

The nearest pizza in the rural area around Galena in 2011 was about five miles away at Speedee’s in Galena or 10 miles away in Crane, Missouri.

 

In the rural surroundings of Galena, Missouri, after 8 p.m., you will have to wait to the next day or get in the car and drive to Springfield, Branson West or Branson if you want a pizza, taco or movie.

 

The Biggest Gamblers In The World

 

A curious irony of life in the Midwest is the conservative, religious culture is against “gambling”; yet, farmers are some of the ‘Biggest Gamblers In The World” because nature and weather always seems to be “rigging the deck” against farmers.

 

Everyday is a “Gamble” for a farmer because nature, weather, falling crop and livestock prices can leave a farmer and his or her family homeless in a couple of years.

 

Cash Cows Of Farm Finances

 

A cow will have one calf a year, while an old sow can have two to three litters a year with the number of pigs ranging from six to 18.

 

In farming, cattle are usually considered as the “Cash Cows of Farm Finances” in raising livestock, but, in southwest Missouri in the 1960s, it was easier to get into hog farming. Hogs provided a stable, consistent revenue stream which allowed a farmer to expand into other areas of livestock production like beef cattle. Momma’s hogs provided the money for her to get a herd of about 50 Black Angus cattle. Photo by Samuel E. Warren Jr.

It takes about a year to raise a beef heifer or steer to the size to send to market. It takes a few months to raise a pork litter of pigs to the size to send to market.

 

If you have the land and the money then buy your Stetson, boots, high priced tractors, babe magnet farm pickups, fancy stock trailers and invest in a herd of horses or cattle.

 

If you have a small budget and need to get into livestock farming quickly, buy you a couple of sows, rent you a couple of acres of land away from nosy neighbors and planning and zoning bureaucrats and get into hog farming.

 

Farming is a business like any business with it’s own up and downs. Cattle and horse farming is like trying to build a multinational, global corporation overnight. Hog farming is like realizing you need a small business to build into a global corporation.

 

Momma grew up on a farm, so she knew that hogs is your best overall money-making agricultural investment.

 

Chicken farming and turkey farming makes money, but, there is a sizable investment in building the big, long chicken and turkey houses for poultry. Raccoons, foxes, wolves and snakes love chicken and turkey, perhaps, more than people, so the “hen house” and turkey houses have to be designed to keep out these types of wildlife.

 

Crop farming takes a lot of land and you have to rely on the weather to give you the right amount of rainfall and sunshine at the right time. Weather never cooperates with farmers.

 

Plus crop farming takes several months to get the seeds in the ground up to a harvest height. If the weather doesn’t get you, then, falling prices and insect pests will. After the American Civil War, a small pest,called the “boll weevil” kept cotton crop production down in the south until during the 1980s.

 

Hog farmers usually stand a greater chance of success than other types of farmers based on the investment needed to get up and running and the ability to keep things up and running over time.

 

As you make money, then, you can invest in cattle or crops and consider setting aside your rubber boots for the hand tooled leather cowboy boots to wear to the stockman’s club.

The Coal Oil Lantern

Farmers in the Missouri Ozarks usually called the lanterns, “coal oil lanterns”, instead of kerosene. In the 1960s, in southwest Missouri, electricity wasn’t always stable, especially when heavy snowfall had tree limbs freezing, breaking off and taking down power lines for two to three days at a time. The lanterns provided light in a hog shed at night, which came in handy when an old sow was giving birth to a litter of pigs. By the mid-1960s, Samuel E. Warren, my father, used his electrician skills to put lights in momma’s hog sheds. Still, we kept a lantern, in the corner of the sheds, just in case the lights went out. Photo by Samuel E. Warren Jr.

Thank God For Hogs

 

Momma’s hogs put me through grade school, high school and let me chill out in college until I signed up for a military career.  

 

Around 1965, momma got some Black Angus cattle, which made money. But, the real dollars and sense of southwest Missouri farming for our family from the 1960s through 1980 came from the hogs.

 

Opal M. DeLong Warren, my mother, the business woman, knew the secret of financial success is saving and managing your money whether you work in public or are self employed. I should of learned these lessons earlier in life.

 

Perhaps, now, that I have written down these lessons, people will read and understand the common sense Ozarks logic, so that you never go hungry or thirsty and you don’t always have to worry about the roof over your head at night.

 

As long as people enjoy a good steak or a slice of ham, farmers will have jobs. In my country boy opinion, vegans and vegetarians are welcome to their plants and pasture grasses.

 

Keep in mind, though on any farm I live on, “The cattle have first choice at the pasture grasses. The vegans and vegetarians will just have to settle for the blades of grass in my front yard.”

 

And, come breakfast, I usually have a “hankerin’” for some pork chops, ham,sausage,and bacon.

Sam

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons license.

“Have A Green Christmas” by Samuel E. Warren Jr.

“Have

A

Green Christmas”

 

Have Yourself A Green Christmas !

If Christmas Day this year is “too close” to put the”green” in your stockings and brighten up the gifts under your Christmas Tree,then, a simple act of “saving” should be the shine on your Christmas tree and keep more bills in your wallet for next Christmas. Photo by Samuel E. Warren Jr.

by Samuel E. Warren Jr.

 

I always got my “Letter to Santa Claus” request.

 

Regardless of the economic conditions at the North Pole and in “The Lone Star State”, Mom and Dad always made sure I had a “Merry Christmas.

As a child, I simply came to expect that I would have a wonderful Christmas. After all, both of my parents were workaholics.

 

My mother left “public work” to stay at home and “raise me.” I appreciate her decision. Throughout my childhood, my dad ALWAYS worked a second job. In 1960, momma and I moved to the farm in Missouri.

 

My mother was one of the few “Women Hog Farmers In The United States Of America”, especially in 1960. Momma raised hogs and used the money to provide for my every need from grade school through college.

 

Daddy stayed on the job in Houston, Texas to “maintain his seniority” and continue working toward a retirement plan.

 

Like most kids, I knew, the vast majority of my toys on Christmas morning came from the money in daddy’s wallet and the cash in momma’s purse.

 

The Big Picture

 

What I never saw was “The Big Picture” of earning a living on a daily basis.

 

The reason the wrapped, brightly colored boxes, sporting bright bows, under the Christmas Tree made my home look like Santa Claus’ North Pole Showroom and a Toys R Us store is because my mom and dad were “bound and determined” that I would have a better childhood than they had.

 

I did.

 

Dirt Poor Childhoods

 

Opal M. DeLong Warren, my mother, was born in a small house in Peach Tree Holler, near Reeds Springs, Missouri. Opal’s mother, Martha, and father, Charley, loaded their personal belongings and their son, Richard, into the covered wagon and moved from Versailles, Missouri to a place, near Reeds Spring in Stone County in 1907.

 

All the rest of the DeLong children were born in Stone County. Richard began farming as soon as he was big enough to do the farm chores. The other boys: Willie, Hobert and Joe didn’t go to school very long.

 

Opal DeLong liked school and graduated from the 8^th Grade. Every year, Martha, her mother ordered three dresses a year for Opal out of the Sears and Roebuck catalog to wear to school. She rode a pinto-mix horse, named,”Shorty” to the Wilson’s Creek School in Bear Den Holler.

 

Samuel E. Warren, my father, went to school in Perryville in east Texas. Joseph Samuel Warren, his father, was a tenant farmer, which meant J. Frank Couch, owned the land that “Papa” Warren farmed.

 

“Dirt Poor” is an accurate financial description of my parent’s childhood years.

 

To add insult to injury, Fate unleashed The Great Depression around the time of their teenager years.

 

Daddy’s Short Range Financial Plan

 

Daddy adopted the policy of “Live For Today ;Tomorrow Will Take Care Of Itself.” The major flaw in his long-range financial plan is “In Order To Spend Money – You Have To Earn Money. The More Money You Spend, The More Money You Need To Earn To Keep Your Comfortable Lifestyle Going.”

 

At the end of the day, Daddy’s financial plan meant, “He had to be a ‘workaholic’, in order to keep earning money to spend. The irony is you spend so much time working,you never have “any fun” spending your money.

 

I remember, Monday through Friday, he would arrive home from work at about 4:30 p.m. He would sit down for supper and talk about his day. He could only relax a few moments and then, he would have to start getting ready for his “night job” as a bartender or bouncer.

 

His gray pressed Cameron uniforms would hang in the wardrobe beside his double breasted suits and neckties. By about 6:30 or 7 p,m,, the pickup would ease down the narrow driveway to take him to his “part-time job.”

 

Sometimes momma would wake me up about 2:30 or 3 am, so I would be waiting for daddy to come home from work. The headlight beams would dance down the narrow driveway and in a few minutes I would smell the aroma from a box of a dozen Dunkin’ Donuts, which daddy usually would stop and pickup on the way home.

 

Daddy did make a lot of money. But, he met himself coming and going.

 

Daddy always had “a wad of bills” rolled tightly that looked like a short, fat, pill bottle, with a rubber band around them that he carried in his front jeans pocket. In addition, to the roll of bills in his front pocket, he always had several bills in his wallet.

 

The roll of bills was one of those “Games Of Life” that when you take it out to pay a bill, people notice and they just naturally assume you are some kind of financial genius.

 

The stated “Big Picture” was daddy and momma were working to build their “Dream Home” on land momma bought in 1938, near her mother and father.

 

The Coffee Service

 

Daddy told me he offered the coffee service in his shop “at the plant.”

 

From 1960 until his death in 1978, daddy always made two trips a year to Missouri. One vacation trip always came for the Fourth of July. The second vacation trip depended on the vacation schedule at Cameron’s, which meant his two weeks began either at Thanksgiving or Christmas.

 

Whenever he came to Missouri, he would stock up on three-pound cans of Folgers coffee. He said it was cheaper to buy the coffee in Missouri. About once a year, he would buy a huge coffee pot that could make about 50 cups of coffee. Daddy wasn’t a shopper. He went into a store, picked up what he needed and paid the cashier at the checkout register.

 

However, if Sammy walked past Craftsman tools, he would stop and browse slowly at all the tools. Daddy loved Craftsman tools and bought all kinds of Craftsman wrenches, vise grips and other tools.

 

One trip each year, daddy would “shop” for a new coffee pot to take “to the plant.” He would shop around at the different stores and compare the features of the coffee pots.

 

I have, no doubt, there are people who bought bass boats with less research than daddy put into buying the right coffee pot. Despite his dedicated “shopping around for the right coffee pot”, he always ended up with the same type. And, he would buy a huge cardboard box full of Styrofoam cups to take back to Texas.

 

I remember the huge coffee pots because their shiny silver cylindrical design made them look like huge vacuum tubes that went into the back of a radio.

 

“I get to the plant in the morning and I make the coffee for the shop. I have a coffee can with a slit in the lid. The guys know that coffee is 25 cents a cup. They put a quarter in the can. If they don’t have a quarter, then, they put in some change. I don’t really worry about it because the guys are honest. At the end of the week, I take the coffee can of coins home. Monday morning I always bring in a new empty coffee can for that week’s coins,” said Daddy,

 

In 1978, daddy was suppose to leave at the end of June for his Fourth of July trip to Missouri. He never arrived. The Houston Police Department notified momma of daddy’s death at home.

 

A few days after daddy’s funeral, momma and I made the trip to Houston. We found Folgers coffee cans stored in rooms around the house. Each can was filled to the plastic lid with mixed change from pennies to half dollars and a few silver dollars. The cans all had coins and none of the coins had been wrapped.

 

Momma asked Wanda Brinkley, a next door neighbor for help in wrapping the coins. Wanda had momma take the coins next door to her mom and dad’s house, Mr. and Mrs. Pete Pippins. Momma ordered the pizzas.

 

All day until after midnight, Momma, Wanda, Mr and Mrs Pete and I wrapped coins. Wanda’s two daughters, Donna and Debbie also joined the coin wrapping adventure. At this point in US history, American banks did not accept coins unless they were wrapped in bank wrappers.

 

Using the bank coin wrappers that daddy had on hand and some of the wrappers that Wanda had, we all wrapped coins all day and until well past midnight, It was after 2 am, when we finished.

 

Bank Robbery ?

 

The next day, Wanda, Momma and I went to the drive thru lane of the local Reagan State Bank. Wanda would put about 10 rolls of coins at a time up to the drive thru teller’s window.

 

“You have a lot of coins,” remarked the teller.

 

“My husband, Sammy had the coffee concession where he worked. He died recently. We just discovered, he never wrapped any of the coins from the coffee fund,” explained Momma.

 

The teller nodded. A bank guard showed up with a dolly. The teller seemed to slow,at one point, in tallying the amount of coins. We sat in the car at the drive thru for a couple of hours.

 

After about an hour, the bank guard emerged from a side door with the rolls of coins in the familiar purple bank sacks stacked neatly on the dolly. He pushed the dolly slowly across the several lanes of the drive thru into the rear entrance of the main bank.

 

The bank guard made about four more trips with his dolly from the drive thru to the bank.

 

A couple of days later Wanda spoke to a friend, who worked at the bank. The friend had heard about all those sacks of coins that came through the drive thru. The friend laughed and told Wanda it was not uncommon for people to drop of rolls of coins at the drive thru and she told Wanda the rest of the story.

 

Then, Wanda Brinkley, telephoned momma.

 

“When we dropped those coins off at the bank. The bank got worried and called the local office of the FBI. They told the FBI why they were calling and asked the bureau to check for recent bank robberies because they could not believe that anyone would save that amount of coins.  

 

      “ While we were waiting in the drive thru lane and the teller seemed to be taking the time tallying up the coins, they were waiting for a call back from the FBI to tell them if there were any reports of bank robberies where a large amount of coins had been taken,” Wanda explained and laughed.

 

We wrapped about 20 three-pound coffee cans of coins to take to the bank. Momma also brought about 10 cans of unwrapped coins with her back to Missouri. It was two or three years before I ever wanted to wrap rolls of pennies, nickels, dimes, quarters,half dollars and silver dollars.

 

My father died at age 52. The Harris County, Texas Corner’s Report listed the cause of death as a “possible ‘double heart attack.’” Daddy had literally “worked himself to death” through the years.

 

Momma’s Big Picture Financial Reality

 

 

Momma would never be a “Victim Of A Global Financial Crisis.” She had a poor childhood and realized ”Money Has To Be Managed.”

 

Momma always put aside a few dollars to have when she needed it. “Save” wasn’t a word, it was a philosophy and a way of life.

 

People would tease my mother that she probably had the “First Dollar” she ever earned. Momma would smile and shrug off the comment.

 

Opal M. DeLong Warren was “never broke.” Maybe, she didn’t have a lot of money in her wallet or handbag, but, Momma was “never broke” financially.       

 

Momma loved to remind me “I bought the first car, your daddy and I ever owned. And, I paid cash for it. I bought the first home, your daddy and I ever owned. I bought the land in Missouri, under my own name with my own money, before I ever met your daddy.”     

 

All the claims were true statements. Momma’s message was not that she was a suffragette or a women’s libber, but that she knew “How To Spend And Save Her Money.”

 

Opal M. DeLong Warren is the woman, who went to the Reagan State Bank in Houston and arranged for the money to “buy the home in Houston at 313 East 26^th Street.”

 

Stubborn Sammy

 

During World War II, US Army doctors had told daddy that he had contracted “malaria in the Philippines.” In the late 1940s and early 1950s, the Veterans’ Administration wasn’t always able to convince Congress to provide medical care and decent pensions to veterans.

 

In the early 1950s, momma found out that daddy was eligible for VA medical care payments thanks to the hard-nosed efforts of Texas Congressman and Speaker of the United States House of Representatives Sam Rayburn.

 

Daddy told Momma, Uncle Sam had sent him into World War II and, “I don’t want nothing else to do with the ‘Damn Government.’”

 

Momma reminded Daddy that some days it seemed difficult for him to get out of bed to go to work. Grudgingly, Daddy did the paperwork and accepted “Uncle Sam’s Official Help”, which didn’t last that long. By then, daddy’s health had improved and he did go to work everyday.

 

Momma The Family Banker

 

Martha Lou Marcum DeLong, my grandmother, kept her coins in a coin purse and her dollar bills in a sugar bowl in a plain white dish cabinet in the living room.

 

Everyone knew Grandma DeLong had worked hard all her life, but, Missouri’s “old age pension” provided her the money to live out her senior citizen years.

 

Opal M. DeLong Warren had the reputation in the DeLong Family, Stone County, Missouri, Upshur County, Texas and among neighbors in Harris County – Houston, Texas of “Saving For A Rainy Day.”

 

The Burial And The Banker

 

When daddy died in Texas, I asked momma if we could bring his body back to Missouri for burial. I went to the bank with momma. She told the banker, “I need money to bring my husband’s body back to Missouri for burial. I don’t know, when or how I will pay you. But, you will get your money back.” I watched momma tell the banker those words.

 

In the 21^st Century, most bankers would find a polite way to show the widow to the door out of their office.

 

In 1978, the banker nodded, “Okay, Opal. When you know how much you need for sure, let me know. You’ll get the money,” I heard the banker tell momma.

 

I was already a college student, so I was impressed that a banker would listen to a widow without demanding various forms of collateral.

 

The banker was not going out on a limb. He knew momma owned her “80 acres” of land and owned the other “10 acres” of land that she lived on. He knew she still “owned her home in Houston, Texas.”

 

The banker wasn’t gambling; he was investing.

 

The worst case scenario would be the bank would end up with Missouri real estate and maybe Texas real estate. Real estate in a city is usually more valuable than farm real estate,

 

In the late 1970s and early 1980s there was an active real estate market in Missouri and Texas.

 

But, everyone from Stone County, Missouri throughout southwest Missouri knew “Opal Warren always pays her bills.”

 

Samuel E. Warren was laid to rest in Yocum Pond Cemetery, near Reeds Spring Missouri. The financial cost of moving daddy’s body from Texas to Missouri was $7,000. The bank let momma borrow the money. Momma paid the bank off ahead of time.

 

Momma used money she already had saved for the associated funeral expenses and the double headstone. Uncle Sam provided the “foot marker” that was placed at daddy’s grave.

 

Save And Manage Your Money

 

Through the years, relatives would have financial issues come up in their lives. When they had no one to turn to, they would turn to “Opal.”

 

If a relative was out to buy a big screen TV, then, they were on their own.

 

But, if it was a valid emergency like a mortgage, insurance, food for their kids or medical bills then momma would “loan” the money. A few of my relatives paid Momma back. The majority did not.

 

Momma had a better financial plan than daddy. Momma never invested in the stock market. I had the debate with her several times and she always told me, “Son, I hang on to my money.”

 

Momma quit farming around 1982. The only “risky investment,” momma ever made, other than her son, was in Land.

 

Land That Pays For Itself

 

But, she always said, “Invest in Land, that will pay for itself.” Her Land did pay for itself because she “rented the pasture to other farmers for their cattle to graze on” and “loggers would cut some trees off the Land every three or four years for lumber.”

 

The Other Land

Through the years, momma would tell me that people had called her and tried to sell her land in Galena or elsewhere in southwest Missouri. I asked momma why she passed on the offers.

 

“I have the land I want. The land I have been offered isn’t land I would want to buy at any price,” Momma would answer. Momma lived on one parcel of land. She could open her front door and look across the road to see the land that she had bought back in the 1930s.

 

Momma is one of the few people in the world, I know of, where bankers would call her and try to persuade her to move her money to their bank. She would smile, “The Bank Of Crane has always done right by me. Until something changes, I will stay with my bank.”

 

At age 84, momma left “The Real World” in 2004. She had a double wide home that had central heating and air conditioning. She never went hungry and there was always food in the ice box and the pantry. She always had her coffee and cigarettes. When she went to the doctor or the hospital, she could always pay her medical bills.

 

Momma’s Financial Secret, “She Learned To Save Money And Manage Her Money.”

 

Momma and daddy made sure I always had a wonderful Christmas. I got enough toys to outfit a museum.

 

I was an “Only Child”, which meant I had to play by myself most of the time, but, I had a huge wooden toy box in the garage full of toys to choose from each day.

 

In Missouri, every other weekend or so, my Cousin Donna would be at Grandma DeLong’s and Uncle Richard’s. I would of brought toys with me or we would go off in the woods to play. In Missouri, the toys were in a big cardboard box in the garage.

 

Samuel E. Warren Jr., the senior citizen, realizes now, Momma’s ability to always put “The Green In My Christmas” came from her daily financial sense of saving and managing her money. Thanks to my mother, “My Merry Christmas” was always “A Green Christmas.”

 

“Merry Christmas, Momma .”

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons license.

The Saga Of Ramon’s Trike

The Saga Of Ramon’s Trike

by Samuel E. Warren Jr.

As a child in Houston, Texas, I had a tricycle. It was made out of heavy black metal. It had a large wheel in the front and two smaller wheels on the side. I would zip up and down the concrete driveway of 313 East 26^th Street on my tricycle.

Of course, when I got stationed in the Republic of the Philippines in 1988, I quickly learned the word, “tricycle” had a totally different meaning in the Philippines.

I could still zip up and down the road to Clark Air Base in a tricycle. But, it wasn’t my “trike” and it always cost me a few pesos

Saturday afternoon, Ramon explains the neat features of his tricycle to his family. 

Canon EOS 40 D Photo by Samuel E. Warren Jr.

 

Monday, March 5, 2012 – The sun rises in the Republic of the Philippines and the morning breeze of Leyte carries the sound of a new tricycle through the coconut trees.

Ramon bounces along on this older motorcycle to try and use it to move sacks of coconuts.  In the Philippines, a motorcycle can sometimes be expected to perform like a farm pickup in the United States. 

Canon EOS 40 D Photo by Samuel E. Warren Jr.

Saturday, Ramon Q. Saldana Jr., took delivery of his new tricycle. While Ramon got his new Honda TMX 155 motorcycle, February 24, 2012, he had to wait for the sidecar modification.

February 24, 2012 — Ramon is proud of his new motorcycle.  He is happy to pose for a picture.  Of course, once you get the motorcycle, then, you have to wait for the sidecar to be built to transform the motorcycle into a tricycle. 

Canon EOS 40 Photo by Samuel E. Warren Jr.

Once Ramon got his motorcycle, he would need a sidecar modification to turn the motorcycle into a “trike.” In the Philippines, a tricycle, often called a “trike,” is a motorcycle with a sidecar that is used to transport passengers and products.

Ramon visited a local welding shop, in a nearby barangay, famous for their sidecar modifications. His name was placed on the waiting list behind the other orders. It appeared, at the time, that it might be the second week of march before the shop could begin work on his motorcycle for the conversion. Ramon picked the color and the design and in a matter of days, his new tricycle was ready to ride.

Ramon gives his sister, Christy Warren, and his brother, Rafael a ride in his trike. 

Canon EOS 40 D Photo by Samuel E. Warren Jr.

Of course, vehicles have to be licensed and registered. The paperwork procedure proceeded along on schedule. Unfortunately, electricity in Leyte is not always reliable.

Everyday for a week, Ramon, went to the appropriate government office. However, the persistent power outages kept the computers off line. Finally, the last week in June, with all the paperwork completed,

 

Ramon was finally able to heed, “The Call Of The Open Road.” Now, Ramon get to zip up and down the road on his trike taking passengers to their appointments and taking kids to and from school.

Ramon heeds “The Call Of The Open Road” and motors along the highway on his trike. 

Canon EOS 40 D Photo by Samuel E. Warren Jr.

Sam

Leyte Land — Photos by Samuel E. Warren Jr.

Leyte Land

Green Acres In the Philippines

If you have ever dreamed of a farm in the country – here is a farm in the country of the Republic of the Philippines.  This rural homestead is in the jungle, on the island of Leyte, in the Barangay of Baras. 

Canon EOS 40 D Photo by Samuel E. Warren Jr.

by Samuel E. Warren Jr.

Welcome to Leyte Land.

Homes are all different depending on the families that live in them and the terrain that the house is constructed on. If you have ever been to rural areas of the Ozarks, at first glance, the rural homes of the Philippines might not seem that different, except, of course, instead of sycamore, walnut, white oak and black oak trees; there are the coconut trees.

Canon EOS 40 D Photos by Samuel E. Warren Jr.

The Ozarks has brush like briar bushes, poison oak and poison ivy vines, old grape vines dangling out of the trees to blend with the pasture grasses. In Leyte, in the Philippines, you have dense green grass that spreads into the rural jungle, which accommodates rice fields and coconut trees.

On this walk, I took my camera and strolled about a quarter of a mile into the jungle. Ecology architects should appreciate how well the homes seem to blend into nature.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

On another walk, I took my camera and strolled up the road to photography homes beside the road up to the barangay boundary.

 

Nikon D 100 Photos by Samuel E. Warren Jr.

 

 The Sari-Sari Store, in the photo below, is a quick stop for everyday items used in households from snacks to toothpaste to soda and washing detergent.  This sari-sari store is near the Barangay Baras and Barangay Cameri boundary. 

Nikon D 100 Photo by Samuel E. Warren Jr.

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Flickr Tags: Leyte Land, by Samuel E. Warren Jr, homes, houses, buildings, structures, architecture, construction, bamboo, concrete, living quarters, billets, families, terrain, geography, landscape, land, Ozarks, rural, farm, Philippines, sycamore, walnut, white oak, black oak trees, coconut trees, briar bushes, poison oak, poison ivy vines, old grape vines, pasture, grasses, eastern visayas, island, tropics, P.I., rice fields, jungle, ecology, architects, nature, photography, barangay boundary, Canon EOS 40 D Photos by Samuel E. Warren Jr., Nikon D100 Photos by Samuel E. Warren Jr.

My Pacific Island Neighborhood

My Pacific Island Neighborhood

 

by Samuel E. Warren Jr.

Take a camera and stroll a few yards through your neighborhood and you see houses. 

In subdivisions, the style tends to be uniform.

In rural settings, the homes always tell a story of the people that live in them.  The style and size of American farm homes in the 1800s, always revealed the impact of weather and nature, by the location of the home, and the materials used in construction.

 

The idea of form follows function seems to be a useful idea in construction from budget to building.  The photos of these homes in my neighborhood, a few yards from my front door and reveals that the tropical temperatures and climate are a consideration in construction and style. 

Nikon D 100 Photos by Samuel E. Warren Jr.