(Clarence Hunt 1897-1990)
To my way of thinking he was ancient, when I was just a boy of only nine, or maybe ten; but as I think about the years and count the time, I’m now much older than he was then.
He was my Pap on my mothers side, and I can still hear his voice if I turn back the page; he really loved to talk, and his advice was often flavored, with a bit of wit and sage.
He grew up in a world where the only way to go was by wagons, river boats, and trains; he was no stranger to a team, his rough hands were often holding to the bridle reins.
As a mere boy he started working in a coal mine, beside the river with the name of mud; that old river was part of his life, indeed it’s muddy waters seemed to flow in his blood.
He sometimes took all us boys camping, on the banks of that old grand and muddy pearl; and for a week we were lost to all cares, as we fished and roamed in that bygone world.
I can still see him coming through the gate, bare foot with a pail of milk from the cow; and as he worked the mule, everyone could tell, he was a wizard with the turning plow.
When I was young he taught me how to use an ax, and with a hoe to deftly work the soil; he seemed to enjoy all the common chores, deep in thought he went about his daily toil.
The first work I ever remember, was helping him pull a crosscut through a hickory log; but later on I wasn’t any help at all, as I sat on the fence, and watched him scrape a hog.
He could chop down a tree or scull a boat for hours and never even break into a sweat; yet on the other hand, he was also the kindest and the gentlest man, that I have ever met.
After a hard day of hoeing corn, he took all us kids for a dip in the local swimming hole; my memories of that old man are now a comfort, as my mind drifts back to the days of old.
He would tell us stories, all the while trotting some child on his knee like it was a horse; probably he never knew it, but in my later life, he guided me like a positive driving force.
You could never be around him for too long, before some funny tale took its merry toll; he truly believed laughter was just like a medicine, good for both the body and the soul.
No matter how many times I saw him, I never failed to leave without a smile upon my face; and even if I should live to be a hundred, no one else in my life, could ever take his place.
All his life he tried to walk in the steps of the Savior, and always strived for the right; he knew and believed every word of the bible, and never let that goal slip from his sight.
Now I understand much more of what he said and thought, as old age creeps upon my face; and I am proud to be his grandson, and try to be more like him, as I run this earthly race.
Then when all here is said and done, and we meet once more in that shining land of glory; there is not a doubt in my mind, he will have us laughing there, with another funny story.
We invite all who would, to come together with us each Sunday morning at Kedron on the Coopertown Road, Russellville, Kentucky, to worship God in spirit and in truth. We neither add to God’s word or take from it. Bible study at 10:00 and Worship at 11:00.