It was a very sad week as I learned that a childhood friend and classmate passed away at 55 from a heart attack. We drove to the funeral home for the visitation and spent time with my friend's family and classmates and friends that gathered to mourn his passing. What a tragedy! Grayson and I were friends from as long as I can remember. We grew up together, went to church together, spent the night at each other's houses, and went to school together.
Grayson was a gear-head. If it had an engine and wheels, he could keep it running. He had go-carts that he would race around his yard at break-neck speed, taking corners like Mario Andretti. He built ramps and would, in Evil Knievel-like fashion, fly through the sky in his go-kart. When he grew up, his profession was keeping the fleet of law enforcement vehicles in a neighboring parish running. It was fitting. He was always good at what he did.
In "big church," we'd flip through the hymnals randomly and try to count how many Fanny J. Crosby songs we knew. We'd sing a song called "Joy, Joy, Joy, Joy, down in my heart." The last verse said, "And if the devil doesn't like it, he can sit on a tack." We would sit down like we sat on a tack and fly off the metal folding chair making a huge racket. The volunteers in the youth department got more than they bargained for with us hooligans, for sure. We got into trouble sometimes at church. One time in the choir loft, during the hymn "Higher Ground," we decided it would be a good idea to add our own motions. When it said, "Lord, plant my feet on higher ground," we pretended to dig a hole with a shovel and plant our feet. You had to be there, but our faces were red from laughing so hard. Our parents didn't see the humor in our antics.
As we stood around the funeral home and reminisced for two hours, we mined a depth of memories of Grayson. We showed livestock together in 4-H in elementary school. Sheep are finicky, sickly creatures. It's been said of sheep that "they are born looking for a place to die." We had great fun showing sheep at the parish, district and state livestock shows, but the actual shows were in the COLDEST part of winter.
Grayson had an answer for that. He always had a number of catalogs. JC Whitney, for one, to get Auto parts. Crutchfield, for another, to get speakers, tuners, and amps, and the all-time favorite catalog, the Johnson-Smith Catalog. In this catalog, back in the 70's, you could order all sorts of pranks like fake vomit, fake poop, and whoopie cushions. It contained everything a kid could want! I could be off-base, but I think it was from this catalog that Grayson solved the problem of being cold at livestock shows - the Handwarmer!
We all ordered them. You would remove the cap, pour lighter fluid in the bottom until the cotton was saturated with fluid. Then you'd light the coil and allow to burn until they were glowing. At this point, you would replace the cap and place it in a red flannel bag with a yellow drawstring and place in your pocket or coat pocket.
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It would stay warm ALL DAY LONG! Grayson saved the day. The livestock shows were bearable with the trusty Jon-E Handwarmer. Somewhere in the attic at my Mom & Dad's house, tucked away in a box is my old handwarmer (and probably my brother's Millennium Falcon Star Wars spacecraft and action figures). Both are probably worth a lot of money. At least they bring back priceless memories of a great childhood.
As often is the case, you grow up, move away from your hometown and lose close contact with old friends and classmates. You never, ever forget them, though. It's sad, but we have many memories to dredge up and relish. Grayson, old friend, may you rest in peace!
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