Mom and Dad at the Homeplace - circa 1980 |
BigSurveyor
I have stories to tell...
Friday, January 19, 2024
My Mom - The "Snake Handler"
Sunday, January 14, 2024
The Value of Second Impressions
John and I in October, 2023 |
The cowboy philosopher, Will Rogers, famously quipped, "You never get a second chance to make a first impression". While Mr. Will is technically correct, I'm glad for the opportunities I've had to get those second impressions.
And such was the case with my late good friend, John Stevens.
I met John early in my surveying career while I was working for a local surveying company. John worked as a Land Surveyor for the U.S. Forest Service and our company had several contracts for work in the Mark Twain National Forest. I really don't remember our first meeting but I do know that my first impression of John was not that rosy. He was gruff, abrupt and very, very sure of his opinions. In his defense, my boss at the time had the bed-side manner of a water buffalo so it was inevitable that they would clash.
In the late 1980's, I went to work for Riggs-Norsworthy Surveyors, a company owned by my brother Ralph and Rolan Norsworthy. We also had contracts for surveying in Mark Twain and I was destined to have John as the COR (Contracting Officer's Representative) for several of my projects.
For those that may not know, surveying is not an exact science. It is an opinion and believe me, most surveyors (myself included) can have a very high opinion of their opinion!
When John, myself and my brother would discuss corner evidence found, statutory procedures, proper line clearing, tree blazing and a myriad of other situations; things could get a little testy. But I soon realized that I had not seen the real "John" in my first encounters. And so, my "second opinion" was formed.
I found out that John would listen to, and consider your thoughts on a survey question. And he could be persuaded (although begrudgingly so!) to change his mind.
I realized that John was genuinely interested in mentoring young surveyors such as myself. He would brook no foolishness but if you were willing, he would share his knowledge and wisdom. There have been many a time I have sat down with John and his side-kick, Johnnie Young and discussed a difficult section breakdown or conflicting corner evidence. I always came away bettered from the experience.
John was a meticulous proof-reader. On one project I had in the Hercules Glade Wilderness, I tried to sneak some humorous plat notes by him. It didn't pass muster. He found them and politely asked for them to be re-written!
John was a man of integrity and principles. When we were contractually obligated to the Forest Service, John represented them to a T. We would go out to lunch after one of our meetings and would offer to buy his lunch. He would have none of it. He didn't want even a hint of cronyism or favoritism to smudge his career.
On a personal level, John was a friend. After his retirement, most of our contact was through Facebook and at MSPS meetings but I was always glad to "swap howdys" with him.
Last October, when John's cancer returned after years in remission; I went to visit him and Jan at their home in Rolla, Missouri. We talked and laughed about the good old days and some of the crazy situations we ran into. We had prayer together and I left, promising to visit when I passed through Rolla again.
I received word this morning that my old friend, John Stevens, has made his crossing to his heavenly reward. It was my privilege to cross paths with him and someday, maybe we can survey off a little corner of heaven together!
Please keep Jan and the family in your prayers.
John with Bob Shotts at the 2001 Rendezvous at Loggers Lake |
John with Johnnie Young at the 2002 Rendezvous at Loggers Lake |
Monday, September 4, 2023
Take Me Out To The Ball Game
Friday, November 25, 2022
Mom's Unique Shell Game
A post on facebook, prompted this blog entry. It showed several opened plastic Country Crock butter containers, with the caption "Growing up, I never knew if I was opening the butter or leftovers"
This reminded me so much of my dear old Mother, that I just had to tell a story!
Mom was not a hoarder but she did save certain things that other people would just throw away. One of the things on this list was small plastic containers. When the food in the container was used (butter, cottage cheese, cake icing, etc. etc.) the container was washed and put in the cabinet, ready for those small portions of leftovers. Our refrigerator was usually occupied with an array of these containers, with only my mom knowing the contents of each and every one (or so I thought!).
In the old slight of hand shell game, a pea is put under one of three walnut shells lined up on the table. The short-con operator (the swindler) then shuffles the shells, arranges them again in a row on the table and asked the mark (the one getting swindled) to choose the shell with the pea. Depending on the ability of the con man or the luck of the mark, the right shell is chosen (or not).
One cold winter day, mom had packed my lunch with something hot in my soup thermos, cornbread or crackers for the thermos contents, perhaps a banana; and a plastic cake icing container full of strawberry shortcake. With coffee from my Aladdin Thermos, I was all set for a great lunch and dessert, while warming up in the truck.
I ate all of what mom had packed, saving the container of strawberry shortcake until last; a grand finale of sorts.
When I opened the cake icing container, with my spoon poised in the air, ready to dig into the succulent, sweet, delicious dessert... I saw brown... oblong things... in a brownish gravyish stuff...
It was cold PINTO BEANS!!!
Yep! I had been duped! cheated! played! Hornswoggled! By my own Mother!! Egads!
We all had a good laugh and mom was super embarrassed; when I got home and told her and the family about the "The Brown Bean Swindle!"
Monday, May 30, 2022
We Remember... All
Memorial Day - The day traditionally set aside to mourn our American Soldiers who have fallen in the line of duty. Through the years, this remembrance has expanded to include all those who have passed away.
Every Saturday before Memorial Day, my family, my brother Ralph Riggs and his family, all meet at various cemeteries and decorate the graves of our loved ones (And there is the traditional stop at the CrossRoads Store at Crider to get a candy bar and a Sodee Pop!) We have done this for at least thirty-five years.
There is also another tradition that is observed.
In the southwest corner of Ledbetter Cemetery at Crider, Missouri, there is a little red granite gravestone. In my childhood, there was just a rough stone marking the gravesite and I was told that a black lady was buried there. Through the years, by visiting with my Mom and others, and doing some history research, I have pieced together the story.
Aunt Mime and another un-named black lady were slaves, owned by Turpin Good Scoggin, who lived in the Crider area. Evidently, Aunt Mime became unruly and to punish her, Scoggin set her free. Although this sounds like the best thing that could have happened to her, it was a severe punishment. As a freed slave in the pre-Civil War era, she had to depend on the support of neighbors in the Crider community, to give her support and shelter. There were kind-hearted people that took her in and she was a fixture in the Crider area until she died in 1921.
Although the community took her in, it seems they weren't quite ready to let her be buried among "the white folks". So her grave was relegated to a lonely corner of the Ledbetter Cemetery.
On our yearly visits, we would recount this story and one year, a new red granite stone was found marking Aunt Mime's gravesite. When she was old enough to understand, Claire, Ralph's oldest grandchild heard the stories of the former slave and her heart was touched. The next year when we went to Ledbetter, Claire and her "Papa" placed some flowers at Aunt Mime's stone.
This tradition continued on Saturday when new flowers (and a couple of cacti) were placed by Claire and Ralph to decorate the stone. In a world that seems to be increasingly dangerous, angry and hostile, it is gestures like this that give me hope and brighten my day.
Wednesday, September 22, 2021
A Place Called Pucky Huddle
Pucky Huddle store as I remember it in the early 1990's |
Sunday, September 5, 2021
A Very Fowl Comet
This is Merriam-Webster's definition of a Comet: "A celestial body that appears as a fuzzy head usually surrounding a bright nucleus, that has a usually highly eccentric orbit, that consists primarily of ice and dust and that often develops one or more long tails when near the sun."
However, if you want to hear Ray-Ray's definition, you'll hafta keep reading!
A few days ago, I decided to burn a big brush/trash pile behind our house. Over the course of a month or so, we had accumulated several large limbs, cardboard boxes, sacks of old clothes, boards and other trash.
Unbeknownst to me, we had also collected something else in the big mound of refuse...
We had several "free range" chickens that had been roaming around our property that I guess belonged to our neighbors to the west. And... it appears that one of these chickens was sitting on a nest, somewhere up in the middle of the BRUSH PILE!
I grabbed my lighter fluid and proceeded to soak three or four places around the pile, then touched it off with my trusty lighter.
For a minute or so, nothing happened except the flames went higher and higher. When the inferno reached fifteen to twenty feet in the air, something spectacular happened.
Out of the scorching, blazing, pile of fire and brimstone - A Very Fowl Comet appeared!!!
It was a flapping, squawking, smouldering, smoking white comet that came shooting out of the flames, headed for Arkansas or other parts south!!!
This was all pretty hilarious!... Until I realized that this flaming terrestrial comet was flying right into the neighbors dry hayfield!! Yikes!!!
Ole Leghorn must have burnt out before hitting the ground and I haven't seen nary a chicken around the place for a few days now!