Cranks My Tractor

Published: Thursday, October 3, 2013 at 09:24 AM.

One of the legs had broken on the chairs and Mr. Reese sawed the legs off so they could still be used.

Mr. Reese was my friend and as I got older, he was the fellow who kept me from doing too many stupid things or getting hurt while I was working at the newspaper. 

I started working/getting paid at the newspaper when I was 12, cutting the grass and moving things.  As I got older, I got to clean the restrooms, move big rolls of paper and pretty much anything Mr. Reese wanted me to do.

However, the best times, were those times sitting in those short-legged chairs “taking it easy,” as Mr. Reese would say.  We would work for 30 minutes or so and Mr. Reese would proclaim, “We need to take a break.”  And we would.

Mr. Reese would always justify these breaks by saying my Daddy didn’t want me getting hurt or overdoing it.  I’m pretty sure; especially as Mr. Reese got older that our breaks were because he enjoyed doing nothing and talking about life with me.

So did I.

Mr. Reese knew all about baseball and knew all about the stars of the old Negro Leagues.  He taught me about Cool Papa Bell and Satchel Paige.  He looked as if he would have been a good ballplayer in his younger years; he was probably about 60 years older than I.



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