For the last several years, I’ve spent a lot of time studying the Here After. Since reaching the wonderful age of 65, it seems every time I walk into a room, I have to ask myself, “What in the world am I here after?”
Coming up with a column for readers across this state each week really puts a charge on the electrons of your brain. I’ve written “Read All About It” since 1984, and weekly beginning in 1995. I’ve been very fortunate to have an organization like the Tennessee Farm Bureau give me this opportunity to be as creative as I dared without doing harm to those who made me and those I used for fodder.
I retired from the Tennessee Farm Bureau at the end of 2013 after 44 years of service but continued to write my column with their blessing because I just could not leave my weekly readers. It has been a pleasure and a privilege that the newspaper editors across this state have allowed me this space to chat with my friends each and every week, with many becoming just like family members.
Whenever I put my fingers to the keyboard to write one these epistles of rural understanding, I feel somewhat like a child writing to his parents about his first day at camp. Each one contains thoughts I initially begin with, but by the time I finish my writing exercise, the project becomes a collection of what I think you should know.
Now, as my fingers once again cross the keyboard of my old Apple computer, I think you need to know something else very important in my life that will affect our weekly friendships. It’s tough to say, but it’s something I must do – announcing to all of you that this is the last “Read All About It.”
As I write this, I’ve just returned from a musical presentation that included by granddaughters, with each one of them breaking ranks during their numbers to wave and scream at the top of their lungs, “Hi Granddaddy!” The needs of my family and the smiles of my grandchildren are now coming before my writing. Time is so valuable now, and with my family, retirement committees, elected official duties, and the need to leave deadlines to someone else, this final deadline is an Independence Day for me in another way.
The years of doing this column have been so good to me. The hundreds of people I’ve met, the many locations where individuals made me feel right at home, and the downright fun of saying, many times, what I really thought have been opportunities many never get, but wish for often.
Having ancestors from both sides of my family who settled in the very early 1800s where I live today and struggled to farm out a living with the help of family-grown workers, I feel a deep love for my home place, and understand more each day why they stopped here instead of going further. With the events of the past few weeks, I’ve developed a deeper appreciation of my heritage passed on to me from these strong family members. I never met them in person but grew to understand them more from family records and the older generation’s verbal conversations. My writing now goes to preserve those personal historical facts of the “whys” of family for my family’s next generations. Hopefully, those who wish to bury history like it never happened will not destroy it for my grandchildren and those to come later.
The comparisons of my writing to others have often been great compliments, which I appreciate very much. I must give much credit for what I do to a seventh grade school teacher who saw in a half-hearted country boy something he never thought about doing. One day, I was to write a theme about who I thought Santa Claus really was. After reading it and grading it, she called me aside to give me a bit of advice that has stuck with me.
Miss Betty Jean said, “Your ability at proper grammar will always be a challenge, but your creation of a story is a gift. You see things in your mind others can’t picture, but you can feel them in some way that gives you the ability to place them into words to tell what you see. Don’t let being proper stop you from telling the story. Please continue to paint your word pictures.”
Those words might not be exactly as she said them, but they’re pretty close. It’s because of that lady, and so many others who have given me a chance, that I do what I do. Thanks to an interested public education teacher, I am what I am.
This column has been a God-given privilege for me for so many years, and has allowed me to touch others in many ways. I remember a writer once saying as he was hanging up his quill that the next part of his living contains possibly the greatest responsibilities. That is so true, and right now I have four major ones that need some granddaddy time. Thank you all for Reading All About It.
Pettus L. Read writes for the Tennessee Farm Bureau Federation. He may be contacted at pettusr60@gmail.com.
For the last several years, I’ve spent a lot of time studying the Here After. Since reaching the wonderful age of 65, it seems every time I walk into a room, I have to ask myself, “What in the world am I here after?”
Coming up with a column for readers across this state each week really puts a charge on the electrons of your brain. I’ve written “Read All About It” since 1984, and weekly beginning in 1995. I’ve been very fortunate to have an organization like the Tennessee Farm Bureau give me this opportunity to be as creative as I dared without doing harm to those who made me and those I used for fodder.
I retired from the Tennessee Farm Bureau at the end of 2013 after 44 years of service but continued to write my column with their blessing because I just could not leave my weekly readers. It has been a pleasure and a privilege that the newspaper editors across this state have allowed me this space to chat with my friends each and every week, with many becoming just like family members.
Whenever I put my fingers to the keyboard to write one these epistles of rural understanding, I feel somewhat like a child writing to his parents about his first day at camp. Each one contains thoughts I initially begin with, but by the time I finish my writing exercise, the project becomes a collection of what I think you should know.
Now, as my fingers once again cross the keyboard of my old Apple computer, I think you need to know something else very important in my life that will affect our weekly friendships. It’s tough to say, but it’s something I must do – announcing to all of you that this is the last “Read All About It.”
As I write this, I’ve just returned from a musical presentation that included by granddaughters, with each one of them breaking ranks during their numbers to wave and scream at the top of their lungs, “Hi Granddaddy!” The needs of my family and the smiles of my grandchildren are now coming before my writing. Time is so valuable now, and with my family, retirement committees, elected official duties, and the need to leave deadlines to someone else, this final deadline is an Independence Day for me in another way.
The years of doing this column have been so good to me. The hundreds of people I’ve met, the many locations where individuals made me feel right at home, and the downright fun of saying, many times, what I really thought have been opportunities many never get, but wish for often.
Having ancestors from both sides of my family who settled in the very early 1800s where I live today and struggled to farm out a living with the help of family-grown workers, I feel a deep love for my home place, and understand more each day why they stopped here instead of going further. With the events of the past few weeks, I’ve developed a deeper appreciation of my heritage passed on to me from these strong family members. I never met them in person but grew to understand them more from family records and the older generation’s verbal conversations. My writing now goes to preserve those personal historical facts of the “whys” of family for my family’s next generations. Hopefully, those who wish to bury history like it never happened will not destroy it for my grandchildren and those to come later.
The comparisons of my writing to others have often been great compliments, which I appreciate very much. I must give much credit for what I do to a seventh grade school teacher who saw in a half-hearted country boy something he never thought about doing. One day, I was to write a theme about who I thought Santa Claus really was. After reading it and grading it, she called me aside to give me a bit of advice that has stuck with me.
Miss Betty Jean said, “Your ability at proper grammar will always be a challenge, but your creation of a story is a gift. You see things in your mind others can’t picture, but you can feel them in some way that gives you the ability to place them into words to tell what you see. Don’t let being proper stop you from telling the story. Please continue to paint your word pictures.”
Those words might not be exactly as she said them, but they’re pretty close. It’s because of that lady, and so many others who have given me a chance, that I do what I do. Thanks to an interested public education teacher, I am what I am.
This column has been a God-given privilege for me for so many years, and has allowed me to touch others in many ways. I remember a writer once saying as he was hanging up his quill that the next part of his living contains possibly the greatest responsibilities. That is so true, and right now I have four major ones that need some granddaddy time. Thank you all for Reading All About It.
Pettus L. Read writes for the Tennessee Farm Bureau Federation. He may be contacted at pettusr60@gmail.com. v