These memories will live in my brain until death and hopefully longer later if I make to heaven! Because of my age as the older brother they might not be totally accurate.
Grandmother [Nanette Helene Hunter Fincher] was a very strict Christian and the Sabbath was to be a strict day of rest and prayer. I loved her very much, but sometimes could perhaps be a little too strict. One Sunday she "caught" my father , Holmes, a minister, Uncle Charles, a minister, Theron and others playing 42 dominoes in the living room. She was not happy with them, but Dad finally convinced her that God would be ok with it.
Holmes, my father and a minister in a small Presbyterian church in western Virginia, married mother in Albany. She said that he would have to get Granddaddy's [Pickens Steele Fincher] permission to marry her. I think Granddaddy hoped that one of his daughters would marry a rancher. His response to the request to marry Winona, was something like this. Your older sister has already married a minister, Charles, and now my younger daughter wants to do the same. You "are both going to be poor for the rest of your lives", but if this is what you really want to do, I guess it is ok with me.
I don’t think Scott has told the fill story about the boar hunt. Buddy made me ride in the back of his truck to make sure niece Sarah and my sons, Hunter and Jonathan did not bounce out. Buddy, the driver, and Scott were in the front seat. When Scott shot the Boar, it was hard to keep them safe as he roared through the field. When Buddy saw that it was a male boar, he said that he planned to barbecue the boar for the family to eat at the reunion on the Brazos, but it would not be good with his testicles attached. He handed Scott a knife and told him to cut them off. Scott said he was a doctor and that he did not remember ever doing that to a patient. Buddy said "then give me the knife"! Scott complied, Buddy jumped out of the truck, turned the male boar over, and then "wack". It was the best pork I had ever eaten. As a young teenager, Buddy was always my hero.
The last story and then I will shut up.
One afternoon at the Albany "ranch" Granddaddy" told me he needed my help. We rode in his truck not too far from the barn and there was a mother cow trying to give birth to her little calf, maybe a big calf because he was a little too large to "pop out". The calf was partly out, front legs first. He lassoed mother’s neck and tied the rope to the back of the truck. He then lassoed the legs of the little guy with a rope and the other end of the rope around the trunk of a mesquite tree. He then got in the truck and told me to watch the little guy. He slowly pulled the truck forward. After several minutes I yelled "Granddaddy, he’s out".