On March 30, 1933 Bob Pumphery, my grandpa, was a newborn baby just a few miles from the sand hill he lives on now. Last Friday he turned 85 years old. He married my grandma Anna on January 25, 1952 (she was born two years and one day after he was) and together brought my dad into the world in 1957. "Mamaw" and him spent a little over 53 years together before she passed away in 2005.
He was born "dirt floor poor", and worked on his family's farm basically from the time he could walk, starting out chopping rows and picking cotton by hand, just as my grandma did. Throughout his life he walked behind a team of mules and a breaking plow, then witnessed tractors and other equipment take over starting with an 8N Ford.
He didn't have electricity in his house until 1947. He walked outside to an outhouse in order to "go". After he graduated from high school he changed tires, ginned cotton, worked at a Dr. Pepper bottling plant, sold watermelons, drove an ambulance, and a myriad of other jobs over the years.
1953 he got a letter from his "friends and neighbors" stating that he'd been drafted into the U.S. Army. He reported for basic training at Ft. Leonard Wood and rode a troop train from St. Louis to Camp Kilmer, New Jersey. He sailed on a Naval ship to Europe and back. A two year tour in England and Germany during the Korean conflict was served, being honorably discharged in 1955.
After his initial military service he went to school on the G.I. Bill and got his college education--to educate. After working his way through school he was a teacher for several years, and eventually served as an elementary school principal at Parma, Campbell, and Poplar Bluff, Missouri. My grandma also took a similar path and became a career teacher after she herself worked her way through school. In that line of business he's seen just about everything, from helping to integrate a school district in the 60's, to seeing computers enter the classroom.
In 1961 he enlisted in the Missouri Army National Guard and served his country and his state for another 32 years; a total 34 years of military service. He and my grandmother were also involved in a couple fraternal organizations and in 2017 he received his 50 year commendations for his years served with the Masonic Lodge, and the Order of the Eastern Star.
Through all of this he never stopped farming. My grandparents purchased this place that sat adjacent to my maternal great parents' farm where my grandma was raised and had a similar rural, poor, sometimes depressed upbringing. The Ford 5000 tractor we're standing next to here in the photo was purchased brand new in 1974 and he utilized it to cultivate the surrounding 120 acres for 21 years and has never parted with it save a for a few occasions that it's been loaned out. The PTO on a Ford tractor is real smooth for service on an auger, in case you didn't know. My grandma knew how to drive that tractor just as well as he does. For the non-tractor aficionados, the particular specification of this model are extremely rare, for it was one of only a dozen 5000's delivered from the factory with the high-profile design and equipped with rollbars.
In 1984 my grandparents built their house here. My sister Erika and I spent a majority of our childhood growing up on this piece of ground. The Aermotor windmill above was purchased used at an auction in the late 80's and placed here to water their garden. It was massive some years. Sometimes it was large enough to supplement their income in retirement with the produce harvested and sold. In 1993, they raised a Missouri State record weight tomato. He still has some seeds from it in the deep freeze in the basement.
He's not alone in this particular accomplishment, but he's the only guy that I personally know, that's retired from three concurrent careers. He retired from the school business in 1991, to the chagrin of a lot of people. He was known as an authoritarian of sorts, but rarely ever accused of being anything but fair. He finally quit the Guard in 1993 at the age of 60, having attained the rank of Sargent First Class, and finally quit farming in 1995. They just don't really make people like that anymore. I almost hate to admit that I'll never be as much of a man as he is. Our place is rented out to relatives today, and they put it to grade in the late 90's, and had a couple wells put down and later a central pivot system installed.
The sand hills that once rolled in the background are now virtually flat (see 'graded', a slight slope from west to east) and irrigated for growing rice and other crops. He still goes out to watch three more generations of family farmers Neil, Danny, and Lane Dabbs work the ground with John Deere equipment he wouldn't have even fathomed in his youth when he was walking behind that team of mules in the 40's.
The world has changed tremendously since he's been around. Trains went from black, coal burning steam locomotives on the Missouri Pacific to blue and gray diesel powered streamliners, to yellow freight engines on today's Union Pacific. Planes from went from props to jet engines, incandescent bulbs are now LED's, cars went from simple transportation to muscle cars, to grocery hauler minivans.
In his youth you went to "town" in a wagon to buy supplies. When he was a kid they raised their own vegetables, milked their own cows, churned their own butter, and slaughtered their own meat. Gas was a dime per gallon. If you even had a phone it was a party line. Heat came from a wood or coal stove. In those brutal humid Missouri summers you bought ice, maybe, and you put it in an ice box, not a refrigerator. You walked to school, or walked a mile to catch the bus.
More times than not he's given in and eventually succumbed to innovation; the man even carries a cell phone now, and has for a few years. I still can't hardly believe that. He has satellite TV and central heat and air. He smoked cigarettes for 60 years but finally quit about 6 years ago. He claims he didn't ever light up until the Army put smokes in his rations. He says that if he were ever to sue anybody it would be the U.S. Government for making him a smoker. I think he's got a case. He still chews nicotine gum though.
Never one to make a big deal about his birthday, they've come and gone for years with little fanfare. "It's just another day", he always says. Well, this year is somewhat of a milestone in about anybody's book, and I'm thankful to have had basically the entire family around. With dad being an only child and grandma being gone, this particular branch of the family is pretty small and always kind of has been. We don't all get together very often thanks to our geographic non-proximity these days, so we decided it was worth a picture that Melanie took. The tractor didn't need much help starting after all these years. A couple squirts of ether wouldn't do it, so a few minutes on the battery charger got it started on the first try after.
He's outlived a lot of his peers and family and several "do-gooder" doctors, and I know that gets to him sometimes, but I'm thankful that he still has many friends and neighbors that check in on him and keep him company, some of those people he has been friends with for almost his entire life. Whether he admits it or not he greatly values your company and friendship.
Many of his surviving co-workers and friends were collected, several from Eugene Field Elementary by one of his former teachers, Rosemary Overbey and my dad for a party last week, and I know he still thinks of all of you as family. He still has "kids" that he had in school call him "Mr. Pumphery", usually accompanied by their kids, or even grandkids. People still walk up and thank him for paddling them 30+ years ago and helping to straighten out their character. A little part of Sis and I still get nervous when he makes a sudden movement, being that usually when he moved that quickly when we were younger, he was going for the "board" that he still kept under the edge of the couch in their living room.
Melanie and I walked into a room filled with familiar faces Friday evening, many of which I hadn't seen in several years that came together to surprise him on his big day. He's been retired over a quarter century, almost as long as I've been alive, so it's kind of surreal to hear people still call him "boss". It's a hard thing to describe, but he has many people that look up to and respect him after all of these years, including myself. I very much appreciate all of you for coming out and visiting with us. It was as fun as it was emotional.
It goes without saying that I'm extremely proud to call this man my "Papaw", and I look forward to heading down to the thriving metropolis of Ash Hill, "Missourah" and visiting with him, helping him with chores, and whilst doing so "grab that uh...deal, over there" (he's not always real descriptive when giving instructions) for many years to come, Good Lord willing. This man is part of what has come to be known colloquially as the "greatest generation", and I find it hard to dispute that notion.
Happy birthday old man!
3-31-18
Ash Hill, MO