Our Extended Family Stories

Here are some stories put together that have deep emotional and psychological meaning for Our Extended Family. Either that or everyone gets a chance to either brag about their own accomplishments or everyone else gets a chance to tell some dirt!

The person listed is the originator or teller of the story.

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Virgie Scarber Mitchell	Yvonne Scarber Waggoner	Gary Douglas Scarber	Sharon Scarber Green
Raymond Lee Dawson	Robert Lynn Goehring	Luann Goehring Bailey	Machelle Scarber Taylor

I can only remember Grandma Campsey spanking my brother, sister and me one time but that was enough. We were staying with her while Mama, Daddy and Grandpa went to Jacksboro. The three of us decided to go exploring around the grain bin. We climbed up on one side but since it was full of oats, we went to the other side. Clifford decided he could swing from the opening. Ruth reached out, gave him a push and down he went-six feet into the empty grain bin. Of course, it scared the heck out of us. Ruth and I went screaming to the house. Grandma came running to see what had happened and when we told her Clifford was in the grain bin it scared her. But we assured her he was not in the side with the oats. She climbed up but couldn't reach him. She had to go to the house, get a rope and chair and come back. She tied the rope to the chair and let it down inside. She had Clifford stand on the chair and hold to her hands while he walked up the wall. When he was safe on the ground, she proceeded to bust our rears. For years Clifford would not go near a grain bin.

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Grandpa and Grandma had an upstairs in their house. None of the small grandchildren were allowed to go up. They had a number of old cranking telephones that had worn out and were stored up there. All I wanted to do was go up there and play with them. The stairs were enclosed in the kitchen and had a curtain hanging over the entry. When I thought no one was watching, I would slip behind the curtain. Of course, they could see my feet! But I thought I was hid and then I would very carefully crawl up the stairs. Once I got all the way up and was playing on the telephones when I got caught. And of course, I got my butt busted! They were always afraid I would fall down in the stairwell as there was no banister around it. (They couldn't have thrown me off there.)

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My son, David, can relate to the hot pepper incident. When he was about 2 or 3 I made a big pot of stew and I always added some hot peppers for flavor but took them out before we ate. This particular time I could only find 2 of the 3. Bob found one in his bowl and said he didn't want that and laid it on his plate. Before we could stop David he grabbed that pepper and said, "I'll eat it, Daddy." and he swallowed it. Of course he was on fire. Grabbed the dishtowel, didn't work, grabbed the dishrag and even my apron. He was running in circles and screaming while Bob & I tried to keep from laughing. Fianlly got him to eat some butter and then drink some milk. To this day he will not eat peppers!

When Robert was five years old, I took him with me every where (almost) -- anyway this time L. V. Carriker and I had made us a go-cart. (no motor). We would take it over to the railroad track that ran along Pecan Creek. Ride it down from the tracks to the creek. Robert kept wanting to ride it, so we finally put him on it and gave him a push down the hill. He didn't drag his feet to keep from going too fast like L. V. and I did. so needless to say he got up a lot of speed on the way down and when he got to the bank of the creek, he was air-borne and landed in the center of the creek. L. V. and I thought we had killed him! But when we swam out and got him and our go-cart, all he said was "Wow, I want to go again!"

The Red Devil was a red wooden race car (so to speak), sort of had roller skates as wheels. Anyway, we took it up a very steep hill. Being the oldest I took over as the driver. You guided it with a rope and your feet. Well, we started down in a hail of glory, and were gaining speed at a break neck rate. I was in full control and yelling comforting words back to my little riders, who were screaming in terror. At the last moment, I had the brilliant ideal to cut the ride short, and spare my little sibbilings the terror of crossing a very busy street at the end of my run. Alas, my spur of the moment turn parted me from both passengers. I stopped the Red Devil in a blaze of dust and gravel. You'll be relieved to know I didn't have a scratch on me, but Judy and Mark didn't fair quite so well. I had splattered them all over the road. They lost quite a bit of skin, and didn't seen to be pleased at all at my good fortune of being unscathed. (Go and figure!) Anyway, I believe I was chased and threatened with bodily harm, and then they did the unspeakable, they tattled on me, and Mother whipped my little behind for me. I've never quite forgiving them to this day. Now I'm sure Judy will have an entirely different version to this little adventure, but we all know she's getting a little older and those Senior Moments are coming more and more often to her. She tends to forget how things really happened. P S No one said Wow, I want to go again, take my word on that.

Addendum by Judy Scarber Catania.
No...that's pretty much what happened. I should add Yvonne had control of the brake also, which she didn't think to use. Dad was the "builder" of this famous vehicle and after Mom got through with Yvonne, I think maybe she gave Dad his come uppence cause now that I think of it, I don't remember seeing The Red Devil any more after that now famous ride. Shame on me and Mark for not sharing Yvonne's joy at being the only rider uninjured .... he and I are still plotting our revenge to this day.

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Well, this is not exactly history. But it's a funny story. We were all having a cookout at Grandma and Lewter's house on Rice Ave. in Gainesville, Texas. There were some pretty steep steps coming out the back door. Any way everyone was filling their plates when Grandma remembered that she hadn't brought out a huge bowl of her world famous potato salad. She ran in and got it and as she came back out, she missed the second step on the stairs. Grandma and potato salad went every where. She was quite a site laying there with potato salad all over her. Lewter ran over and with great concern said. "Did you fall, Honey!" Grandma never even raised up, she just said " Hell no, that's the way I always come out the door." Needless to say, we all cracked up. She was a spunky little dude.

Here's a couple of stories about Sharon's first trip to Texas. Sharon and I were making our first visit to Barnhart, Texas (about June 1981). Sharon was about seven months pregnant with our first child. She had not met any of my family prior to this visit and had not really ever been on a farm or out in the country before. Sharon had spent most of her time growing up in Sunnyvale, CA, or East Northport, Long Island, NY. Being on a farm in the country in West Texas was a quite a bit different than her previous experience! Her experience started right off the bat when we finally arrived at the house about 5 a.m. I opened the door (Sharon expected the door to be locked) and when we walked in, the first person to greet us was Mama (Leta) who immediately put her hand on Sharon's tummy!
Later on during the trip, Daddy (Dutch) had bought some feed for the cows, hogs and chickens and we were unloading from Old Blue. Sharon was pulling the cattle feed to the back edge of the pickup when one of the cows tried to get the 50 lb feed bag away from her. Sharon and the cow were having this tug-of-war over the bag. Daddy was laughing so hard he could barely stand. What a site to see a 1000 lb cow and a 100 lb pregnant lady fighting over that bag!
On this same visit was the first time Sharon actually saw hogs. When Mama told her we needed to go feed the pigs, Sharon assumed that they were small, pink animals with cute, curly tails. What she didn't know was these pigs were 400 lb hogs! She was really taken back when she saw them and I think she was a little afraid of these animals.

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I don’t remember the year but I think I was in the second grade. We lived in a little farm house just outside of Gainesville and there was a nice tank not too far from the house. I don’t know if there were any fish in it but there were a bunch of crawdads! I do remember that Mama would take all that we caught and fry up the tails but I don’t remember if there were ever more than just a few.
Anyway, Luann and I decided that ‘wouldn’t it be great if we didn’t have to walk all the way down the pasture just to catch some crawdads?’ So, we spent some time at the tank catching us a bunch of starter crawdads – starters in that they would reproduce in our new ‘location.’ So, we go into the front yard and dug us a hole to hold them critters. I guess it was only a foot or two deep but that was just about all our little arms could handle. We took the water hose and filled that sucker up! Then, we took the ‘catch’ and dumped them into our new ‘tank’. We figured that we wouldn’t have to walk as far to get our dinner the next day! Of course, if you know anything about this part of the country, you know that water just doesn’t stay where you put it.
The next morning, Luann and I get up and run out to our new tank – only to find two things: the ‘tank’ is dry and there’s a bunch of them crawdad tunnels! No crawdads, no water, no dinner and a lot of wasted effort!

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Uncle Warren built himself a house right next to Grandma's house. And, I think, he thought he was a great farmer. Anway, I know he planted some hot peppers, jalapenos, in his garden. I always was interested in food (and still am, just as Sharon!) and wanted to try everything he and Dutch tried. One day, we were over there and Uncle Warren was doing some BBQ'ing. He'd taken some peppers off the plant, take a big bite, and say something like, 'Boy, that is the best pepper I ever had!' Of course, if it was the best, then I had to have some. I bugged them enough and, finally, Uncle Warren gave me one. Before I bit into it, he said, 'You have to eat the whole thing!' I, being all of 8 or 9, naturally assumed that if Uncle Warren said I had to do something, then, by golly, I had to do it!
I chopped down on that sucker and, before I even got a chance to close my lips, the fire went through my mouth, into my eyes and down to my toes! It was worse than biting a red-hot coal from the BBQ!.
I couldn't breath! I couldn't talk! I needed something to stop the fire! So, Uncle Warren gives me his beer. I swig a bunch of it (and, guess what? - that didn't help!). But both he and Dutch kept telling me I had to finish that sucker! So, I tried (and cried).
I don't know if anyone yelled at him or Dutch, but I do know that the next time I asked for something, Uncle Warren asked me if my mother said it was OK first.

Addendum by Yvonne Scarber Waggoner.
When I was 16 I had a similar experience, I told my Dad all I wanted was a cigarette and a shot of whiskey for my birthday. I was beside myself with joy when he okay'd the ideal. He made me smoke the cigarette first, after I finally hack my way through that, he poured my shot. I had seen the cowboys on "Gun Smoke" slug their drinks down, it looked so refreshing. So I took my shot in one gulp ... I think I stopped breathing for ten minutes, my eyes watered up, my short little life danced before me. I have since learned this is the Scarber method of teaching a kid, that some things are not good for you. Why waste all that air trying to explain to a hard headed child, that this will burn or that will not be a good idea ... just let 'em do it and sit back and enjoy the show. He also let me eat a carrot at El Chico's that I believe was the hottest thing I've ever had the misfortune to put in my big mouth. At least they could warn you, even if it probably would fall on deaf ears! I soon learned to look at my mother, if she had that look on her face, I knew to decline the offer. And that's the way I survived the trials and errors of childhood in a Scarber house hold..

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A few of you will remember the old house on Lawrence Street. I think it was 1603 or something like that. Anyway, Grandma’s house and backyard were great places to explore and play. One particular fine toy there was her chinaberry tree! Her berries attacked everyone who visited. I remember one particular time when Butch, Yvonne and Judy were there. They pelted me with chinaberries after innocence Bobby ‘accidentally’ hit each one with a berry.
For all of you poor people who have never had a chinaberry fight, I must tell you that they can hurt if you get hit in the forehead with one thrown by a much bigger opponent (Butch). I should also tell you that they taste horrible – they never get ripe.

Addendum by Judy Scarber Catania.
I also remember Butch telling us a "tall tale" about that horrible rooster beating up on all those hens, giving Von and I the idea of pelting him pretty good with slingshots and chinaberries .... Grandma was none too happy with the results of our attack. That rooster would shudder and faint everytime a hen would even walk close to him. We got our hineys wupped but Butch got it even worse when he got back home, but the rooster made a fine Sunday dinner.

Addendum by Yvonne Scarber Waggoner.
I remember Butch and the Chinaberry tree, he shoved me out of it, cause I wouldn't hand him something. Seems we all have some Butch issues from our childhoods. And he didn't tell us the rooster was jumping on the hens, it was that big chicken was a bully and look at the way he jumps on the little chickens, we had slingshots, and that poor thing never had a chance, it was the only time in my life that Grandma ever raised her hand to me. Now I'm daydreaming about the scene in Frankinstein, Butch is the monster and we are all the guys with the torches goin' after him!!! And as for little innocent Bobby and the accidental hits, I remember that. It was only an accident when we turned on him and he was getting the worse of things. I think the forehead shot was well deserved that day little buddy. Didn't your Mama ever teach you not to start something you can't finish? And also to never have three accidental hittings in a roll?

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We were living in Perryton (on Colgate) and I must have been in the 5th grade. I decided that I'd like to try me a cigarette and tried to sneak one out the side of the house. I didn't get too far until Mama caught me. I figured I'd die then - being beaten to death when Dutch got home. But, as I remember, he sat me down and gave me one of his cigars and made me smoke that trash. The first puff - boy, was I cool! But then, it started getting nasty. I don't recall if I finished it but I'll tell you I didn't have another cigar until I made Chief in 1985!

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Back in the days when I was assigned to the Azores, Portugal, I volunteered to fly in the Navy's P3 aircraft - on the days I didn't have to work. I was usually assigned as the forward starboard observer (since the forward port observer was the radio operator). The missions involved leaving the runway at 0500 in the morning. That means that they pre-flight briefing began around 0400. After the briefing, we would get in the aircraft and take-off. The P3 Orion (on these missions) held about nine personnel (or so) and we would expect to get back home in 10 or 11 hours. The most memorable flight (for me) was when our mission changed about 5 minutes before take-off. We had to find an Army tug boat which had left the Azores enroute to Liverpool and had not been heard from for 2 days. Our original mission was to locate a Soviet freighter off the coast of Spain but finding our Army companions was a little more important. After take-off, we flew along the tug's most likely line of bearing to see if we could find her. In a few hours, we saw a blip on our radar screen and made a bee-line for it. As we flew into her course, we dropped to 100 feet above the oscean (let me tell you, that was exciting! 100 feet is really close). We noticed that her bridge had all of the windows broken out and her radio mast was listing badly. In fact, the radio mast was touching the water! By hand signals, they indicated they were OK. We reported their position to Spain, England and Portugal to let everyone know the tug was OK, but damaged. The tug got to Liverpool the next day. However, our flight continued. Since we found them so early, we were sent back on station for our original mission - to locate a Soviet freighter hauling weapons to Cuba. After another 2 or 3 hours, we found the ship, and positively identified him (the Soviet ships were 'him' and not 'her' as are US ships). We eventually got back to Terceira where we did 'stop and go's' (ask Gene what that is) for another 2 (!) hours. Total time in the plane: 13+ hours. Those planes can really stay up a long time! By the way, the cook onboard made some really great fried chicken on this flight.

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In 1977, the local military TV and radio station on the Azores decided to have a telethon to help the local community raise funds to repair the milk factory. My shipmates knew I was from Texas and, being the only one in the NSGA from Texas at the time, was picked on by all the Yankees. My commanding officer (from Oklahoma) was particularly fond of 'dissing' me about being from Texas. Anyway, I had gotten off of work at 0600 in the a.m. and was wanting to go to sleep. I heard, as soon as I got back to the barracks, that the first thing that the TV station wanted was for me (remember, there were more than 2500 US military on the island) to sing the 'Yellow Rose of Texas' for the lead-off of the telethon. - For those of you who know me, there is no way I would ever get in front of anyone and sing. The CO promised $15.00 if I would sing the song. I got into my TR-6 and drove to the far end of the island (about 10 miles away) and listened to the radio. A lot of my friends called up and raised the ante every 30 minutes or so. After a few hours, I was getting pretty sleepy, but was sitting in a wine bar, and eventually the pledge got up to $200 before I decided that I ought to head back to the base. I left my TR-6 in a small village and got a ride back to Lajes, the base. I went to the TV station and, in my most off-key voice (which is my normal singing voice) sang the first verse of Yellow Rose. Before I finished, I had 4 others in the studio singing the song with me (all Texans). They already had a band set up to play the background music! They finished the song without me (cause I didn't know all the words) and replayed the song several times on the TV. The telethon eventually raised about $5000 dollars and helped repair the milk factory.

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While we were in Pensacola, Florida, in about 1983, there was a grocery store called Skaggs Albertson. Although it was a bit pricey, we shopped there many times because of its fine selection of products and because the store would give out a free cookie for the little shoppers. Becky got her own Cookie Credit Card that allowed her to get a cookie each time we went shopping there. She really enjoyed the cookies and it usually lasted the entire time we were there. Her card really came in handy one day outside of the store, though. We applied for a Social Security Number for Becky and, after we got her number, we lost her original card. When we tried to get a replacement for the SSN card, the lady asked for some form of identification. We had brought her birth certificate but, evidently, the Social Security Administration would not accept it for a replacement. So, here we have a two-year-old daughter and they require some other form of identification! Sharon, always the smarter of the two of us, pulled out Becky’s Cookie Credit Card from Skaggs Albertson. It had “Rebecca Goehring” written on it along with something like “Skaggs Albertson Cookie Credit Card.” To my amazement, the lady at the SSA looked at it, smiled and said, “Let me ask my supervisor.” She returned a few minutes later and issued the replacement SSN card for Becky.

I don't remember exactly what year this occurred ... but Bob, Leo and I were teenagers. Bob, you'll remember this one also.
It was Christmas and all the family was at Grandma's. After a good supper and some good visiting, everyone started settling down for the night. We three boys were sent out to Grandma and Lewter's camper for the night.
Bob had a brand new tape recorder and he and I were having a blast recording all sorts of stuff.
I remember that a new commercial for the marine corp. had come out recently that showed a marine at the end of the commercial flipping his sword up into the, I suppose, position it would be when he was at attention.
Anyway, Bob and I were having all sorts of fun with the idea of this goofus maybe accidently slipping and hitting himself or someone else with this sword. We were recording all the funny noises and sounds we figured he'd make and just having a ball. We got the two bunk beds to the right of the entry door and Leo took the couch that made into a bed. This bed ran lengthwise in the trailer.
Since Grandma didn't have the propane turned on in the trailer, she had provided a small electric space heater to go on the floor in the walkway towards the back bathroom. It was pretty cold that night and Leo got tired of our chat session rather quickly. He was also cold, and so reached over and pulled the small heater closer to the bed area. Bob saw this and quickly got up and moved the heater back to where it originally was. He reprimanded Leo rather strongly about the dangers of that heater being so close to the area where we were sleeping, as Grandma had already set us straight about that earlier. So, Bob and I went back to our recording session and Leo puffed up and turned over and went to sleep.
We recorded into the wee hours of the morning and finally ran out of tape and decided to turn in for the remainder of the night. It was about dawn, I was on the top bunk and I remember thinking to myself that this was the smokiest dream I had ever had. About the same time, Bob came up out of his bunk yelling that we were on fire! He began grabbing the covers on Leo's bed and started out of the trailer with them. I fell out of my bunk and helped him get them out into the yard. They weren't fully on fire, but were smoldering heavily. We rolled them around until they quit smoking and then I realized that we were standing outside in our underwear and we had succeeded in waking up everyone in the house. I remember that there were reprimands all around. Don't think it really dampened the Christmas celebration , tho.

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This one happened in Loraine when Sharon and I were in grade school.
We came home from school one day and Mom and Dad were still at work. We did our usual after school stuff and then it occurred to me that we could use something to eat. Some toast perhaps. With this in mind, I decided that the only way to properly make toast was in the oven. Sharon thought it was a bad idea, but I was the oldest and quickly set her straight...yessiree!
Anyway, I turned on the gas in the oven and proceeded to look for a match. Sharon kept telling me that this was a bad idea. I had to reprimand her again, the nerve of some younger sisters!
I found my match, and with a hail and hearty last gig hurled at Sharon, opened the broiler door and stuck the match in to light the oven.
You can imagine what happened next, with gas running for a full 5 minutes while I dressed Sharon down real good.
I remember there was this big fireball that engulfed my head and it was suddenly mighty hot! The next thing I remember, I was out in the back yard trying to put my head out. I finally got everything to quit burning and decided to chance opening my eyes.
I opened my eyes and just as my vision cleared, there was Sharon. She yelled, " I help you Gary!" and sprayed me in the face with Hot Shot bug spray to help put the fire out! Needless to say, Sharon was right.....not a good idea.

Addendum by Sharon Scarber Green
I am very sorry that I have to 'snuff' the punchline gary, but it was Windex that I put you out with. The Hot Shot was a whole 'NOTHER story. Remember the chase? Remember the chair beside the fridge? Remember....."THE FORK"

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Having expounded on the obvious hazards of mis-handling fire in the two earlier tales, I'll now move to the dangers of ice and the cunning of a friend.
It was Christmas vacation in the year 1969. Early in the vacation, it had begun to rain and freeze on everything. Several days of this produced an admirable layer of ice on the whole of the countryside 'round about Loraine, Texas.
We kids were, of course, delighted in the new found ice-with-just-a-powdering of snow on it.It was truely a winter wonderland and we couldn't wait to get at it. A friend of mine, Mouse, was originally from St. Louis, MO. and seemed to know all that there was to know about how to have fun in winter. He showed us many cool tricks and things to pass the time with. Eventually, we arrived up at the school. This was the only hill of any size near us, and so, would have to serve the purpose for what Mouse had in mind.
This being West Texas, we weren't really equipped to have fun in this kind of weather, and so, had to make due. Mouse and I gathered up some old inner tubes and large boxes and carried them with us to the top of the hill. When we got there, Mouse suggested that I take the inner tube and he would take the old box, which we had cut open and was now flattened. He didn't suggest this with a great amount of confidence and I began to suspect that his bravado was covering up something else. Nevertheless, having no good evidence to dispute his word , I took his suggestion.
He laid out how it was going to work. We'd get a good running start and then fling ourselves onto the "sleds" and we'd be off and sliding. Seemed a reasonable plan to me and I quickly agreed. We were off.
I had just launched myself at the proverbial "sled" when I heard Mouse stop and say " Wait a minute...." I didn't hear the rest, because I was on my way down the hill. The ride started great. I thought this was one of the best things going. Then...disaster struck!
I had drifted over to the left, this being a street you understand, and was headed for the concrete curb. It was only then that I realized that I had no steering or brake control whatsoever.
Have you ever had one of those times when you realize that no matter what you do, the outcome of a situation is already determined? Well, this was one of those times. Best I could do was buckle down, ride it out and hope for the best. It didn't take long to prove out that it wasn't gonna be the best.
I hit the curb at a high rate of speed. The curb threw the inner tube and me back into the street....only I wasn't all the way on it now. I continued my descent in this fashion for a short distance, until, low and behold!!!, a cotton-picken chug hole that the city hadn't fixed!!! I hit that sucker and it launched me and the inner tube into the air. I came from undone and hit on my head and shoulder in the street and slid, it seemed like forever, to a final stop, some 30 or 40 feet later.
I'm laying there thinking about whether or not I've still got all my parts when Mouse comes slowly over to where I am.
" Harry( he always called me harry for some reason )...Harry, you know, we really need some kind of a way to steer and stop these things, don't ya think?"
People, if I could have gotten up right then, I'd have brained him!
The moral, if you have a gut feeling that someone doesn't know what he's talking about, go with that feeling.

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Folks, this is the only really clear memory I have of Great Grandma Campsey. It was over on Lawrence St. and we were there visiting. I remember coming into the house from outside and going in to get myself a drink of water or some such. Great Grandma was sitting in the front part of the house, and as I sped thru on my way back outside, she said something to me about stopping or saying hello. I didn't know what it was, but I turned around and went back to the couch where she sat and sort of leaned on the couch beside her.
She began by asking me how I was doing...you know...just making conversation with a little kid. She asked me all about where we lived and how I liked that, etc.
She had broken the ice with me, and as we all know, I'm sooooo shy and retiring...it wasn't long until we were going on a good conversation. I was expounding on everything I could think of and then it struck me....I had the most bestest conversation piece ever for a six year old...I had just lost my first tooth!!
" It was a very big deal, indeed," she said, "Let me have a look at the gap left behind by the exit of this tooth!"
Oh people!..I was in hog heaven...I had an adult that really was paying strict attention to my line of b.s....or at least my six-year old mind had fooled me into thinking so. She clasped my chin and really gave my gap toothed grin the once over and over again. Turning my head this way and that to get a better look. I was almost giddy with delight to be fussed over so much! After a thorough inspection of the gap in question, she said there was something very important that I should know before I went any further. There was?? I thought. She put on her best conspiritorial look and made sure no one was close by. She leaned over to me and motioned that I should lean close and pay special attention, as this was highly important and confidential information that I was about to receive.
I leaned over close and she whispered to me that if I would only keep my tongue out of the gap left by the missing tooth, I would grow a gold tooth in it's place. My eyes widened, she continued and asked me if I had ever seen anyone with a gold tooth. I shook my head yes, by now my mouth was gaping open and my six year old mind was reeling with the possibilities of what she had just told me. She then told me that there was the proof...this was the secret of how those people had gotten their gold teeth! My God, the humanity of it! She then dismissed me to the outside world to see how long I could last. Didn't take long either. In fact, I think I put my tongue in that gap before I was even out the front door.
Never was able to keep my tongue out of any of the spots where I was missing teeth and so, as a result, have no golden teeth......
Or......do ya think she coulda been shinin' me on???....surely not.....

Addendum by Judy Scarber Catania
That's where alot of that "shinin'" came from! I'm sure I grew up as the daughter of the KING OF SHINE. With Uncle Bill, Uncle Warren and Aunt Leta very close behind in the Royal Court.

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This is a story that also took place after school....funny, seems like that was a bad time of day for me...oh well, here goes.
Sharon...add the parts that I miss.
Best I remember, Sharon and I had gotten home and were doing our usual afterschool routine...watching a little tube, fightin', etc. You know, the usual stuff. Anyway, Sharon heads to the kitchen to get something to eat. After just a few moments, I decided that that wasn't a bad idea. I quickly made my way to the kitchen to see what I could come up with.
Upon arriving in the kitchen, I noticed Sharon had gotten a box of ice cream out of the fridge and was proceeding to the cabinet with it. I thought to myself that this was most convenient, as I really was in the mood for some ice cream myself. I walked over to the cabinet, got myself a bowl and spoon and then proceeded to commandeer the box of ice cream...after all, I WAS the oldest, I just knew that I deserved the ice cream first. Position of authority...seniority and all, you know.
Anyway, you know what happened then....a fight for the box..actually a minor scuffle, I decided early to end the struggle before it began, so I hit Sharon in the head with the box and turned around to begin dishing out my stolen loot.
As I was spooning out the ice cream, suddenly, behind me comes this ear piercing scream and I turn around just in time to catch a fork in the shoulder! Folks, Sharon was pissed...She buried the fork in my shoulder as deep as she could and before I could yelp and get away, she had jerked the fork free and started to hit me with it again. Everything after that was a blur. I remember that the "chase" began immediately after the fork incident. As I recollect, it involved me running for my life, with several interludes to try and fend off the fork in question. Sharon stayed pissed quite a while as I remember it.
Ask Sharon for the remainder of "the chase" and what followed.
Sister......after you......

Addendum by Sharon Scarber Green.
Well Judy and Luann probably know what happened! The very moment that I laid down the fork, that older sibling; gotta have the last word/punch started after me. After running in tight little circles a couple of times, I made a B-line for the backdoor and he headed me off. I was already in motion, so I went up into the chair, actually thinking that I might continue to the top of the fridge if I had to [I knew this would be a real torture session if caught]
By then he had me by the leg pulling me down. Something!! To Stab With! To Hit With! To.....spray with. Right in the face. How he survived pickin' on me, I will never understand.

Second Addendum by Gary Scarber.
aaahhh.......yes, I remember, that's when I got the bug spray in the face! An effective weapon as I remember. God, that stuff stings and stinks!!!!! And there you have it, folks......"the chase".....thanx, sis...and I don't know how I survived it either. Remember, folks, more to follow and "thank you for your support".

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This story takes place in the Mountains of New Mexico, just below Colorado. It was Tuesday of the annual fishing trip and everything was going well. We'd caught a few nice trout for the pot and were enjoying marvelous weather. Pop and Rodney came up to the truck and we decided to eat lunch. Whils sitting in the truck, we discussed what we were going to do the following day....try to get a game plan, as it were. We finished up lunch and Rodney said he was going to go up-river and fish a spot he'd found. Pop said he was going to a spot downriver. I said that I was going to finish my lunch and then decide...it was too great a day to hurry. I finished my lunch and decided that I needed to practice up with my " big stick ", since we were going to the Rio Grande the next day. I got everything out and set up and proceeded to walk down to the water near the truck. I false casted some to warm up and then made the most perfect cast to a spot between some rocks in a pool in front of me. I was really congratulating myself and began to strip back the line to make another cast. I'd stripped only a little way back and suddenly the fly that I had on exploded into the air! I just about swallowed my teeth! On the end of my line was the largest rainbow trout I'd ever hooked into! He ran up and down this small " chute " that was in front of me, jumping several times! It was awesome! At about the third jump, however, I realized that I had a very light tippet on and if I didn't watch it, I'd lose him entirely! Oh, what to do...what to do!?? I resorted to an old technique that Maw-Maw used very effectively. I simply backed up and backed him out onto the bank. Got him out on the bank and just as I reached down to " lip " him, the tippet snapped. After I got hold of him and carried him to the truck, I looked around and no one was anywhere to be seen. Just my luck...the fish of a lifetime and nobody saw it! I measured and weighed him and then put him on a stringer. After a while Pop and Rodney showed up and snapped some pix. I then placed him back in the river for the future. It's my wish that he live to be one-hundred years old in fish years. Then, die in his sleep very quickly and quietly, after which his body floats to the surface where a bear gets it. I think it would be a fitting end for such a magnificent fighter! It was awesome. By the way, he was just over 23" long, had a 13.5" girth and weighed in right at 6 lbs.

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Ok! Is everyone on pins and needles with the suspense? One summer, I had stayed at Aunt Gracie's while mom went on to Gainesville. I was going to ride ride with my two older cousins who I thought hung the moon and were perfect angels. We were driving down the interstate in this really sporty little car, when some guys pulled up beside us. I, of course, being the innocent young thing that I was, had no idea that anyone in our car might look at some really good looking guys in another car. (this is what they told me because I didn't know what good looking guys were until much, much later in life). As I remember one of the occupants of our car (who will remain nameless) was flirting a little and the other two were not so sure this was a good idea. I was just so totally scared to death!! We would speed up, they would speed up, we would slow down, they would slow down. Well, to make a long story a little shorter, the guys followed us all the way to Grandma's house. When we puled in to the driveway, they honked and kept on going. Were we relieved or I think maybe a little disappointed? You make the call. Needless, to say, this brush with adulthood - boys, cars, high speeds?? - scared me for life. Ohers may remember this a little different, but I can assure you, my story is the right one.

Okay guys, but I'd really rather tell you ABOUT chelle. In order to truly appreciate a story on the child, you have to understand her personality.
She is a very slow and passive little soul.
For example: The time mom choked on peanuts in her coke drivin the car? Chelle just sat there.
The time there was a rattler in front of the house? I frantically shot at it twice. Chelle strolled out there with her bow, slipped an arrow rite thru it.

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While everyone else around her is a spaz, Chelle is the epitome of cool ... except for this one time. She showed sheep in high school and it was getting near the show. We were all down at the pens and Mr. Knows Everything About Everything [a.k.a. Gary Scarber] was giving her heck over what she was doing wrong and what she needed to do and what she hadn't done and this went on most of the day. She had very quietly gone on with her rat killin in spite of the relentless lectures and razzin. we were rappin it up and comin out of the gate, mom, dad, gary, chelle and then me. It was soooo unlike him, but Gary just had to smart off one more time and that was 'the straw' .. Chelle grabbed the top of the gate post, raised herself up and put both boots right in the middle of Gary's back and he went face down in the sheep poop! Chelle just STROLLED on up to the house...

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The time she was working at the kennels and a full grown rotweiller [in a very bad mood, I might add] got loose and chased one of the male employees all over, trying to bite him, and was finally cornered in the feed closet? Chelle strolled into the closet [she strolls alot] got the dog by the collar, says,"you want me to whip your butt." and takes him back into custody.

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The time she was having Jon (her son) and had 45 miles to travel to the hospital AND her water broke? Chelle strolled into the house, "Mom, ya gotta towel I can borrow" looks at me jumping through my skin and says, "Well, ya goin or not."

Addendum by Machelle Scarber Taylor
I had to put a disclaimer in on these stories that Sharon sent in! Now the story on the dog was about right except I believe it was a Chow, but he didn't like men or males in general anyway. But I think she's trying to get back at me for the pizza story! So next time I'll run it by her first!!! HAHA The incident at the barn w/ the sheep and Gary I don't recall, but that don't mean it didn't happen. I tend to forget things that don't impact me greatly!

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We went on our summer vacation my 17th year and I had started smoking by then. I was standing outside the camp and daddy walked up behind me and said, "I know you're out here smokin'. just come up here and sit down before you get snake bit." Well! I thought that little confrontation had gone marvelously!! I sit back and lite me one up. Sittin' there puffin' away with the grown-ups. So this is waht it's like..ggrrreaat! Mom walks out of the camper. Takes one glance at me and slaps that cig right out of my mouth and very quietly and calmly says, "What do you think you're doin'?" And that's was the end of that tune until I was nearly 20 years old.

I do have one story on Sharon! I guess I was about 4yrs. old and Sharon had been left to 'babysit.' She decided we needed to have throw in the oven pizza for supper. She preheats the oven and puts the pizza in then she sets the timer. We were set or so we thought! She goes in to check on the pizza because she smelled something burning and the pizza was ON FIRE in the oven! Sharon panics and runs OUTSIDE to get DIRT to throw on the pizza! She was a heroine, but she had ruined the pizza and damaged the oven! When Uncle Bill and Aunt Faye got home they were at first concerned about us, then oncerned about the oven. Aunt Faye couldn't stop laughing when Sharon told her how she had put the fire out! Uncle Bill had already eaten a piece of the pizza DIRT AND ALL! Sharon to this day is mortified when I tell this 'cause EVERYONE knows that you can use baking soda and without the rocks!

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Gary Douglas always had this annoying habit of picking on the smaller children in the family! Namely me! I don't know if he picked on anybody else (hint hint)! Anyway, he was picking on me by slapping me on the sides of my face and of course his arms were longer so I couldn't fight back even though I was in Junior High by this time! He thought it was too funny so he let down his guard 'cause he was winning and I proceded to punch him right in the nose! Boy were we BOTH surprised! So from then on he dodged every time he picked on me!