The Roving Fisherman
As I am writing this, Mother’s Day is coming. I am reminded how I met my wife and the mother of our two kids.
When I was in the fifth grade, the schools consolidated at Pleasant Plains. I sat behind a little blond-headed girl that I fell in love with the first time I saw her, but she hated me. We attended school together on through graduation, and when we were in the eleventh grade, she got mad at her boyfriend and let it be known she would go out with me.
I borrowed my dad’s lumber truck, and my dad gave me a one dollar bill. I picked her up and we drove to Batesville and went to the show to see Gene Autry. Movie tickets were 15 cents each, and we had 70 cents left over for popcorn and a Coke. After the movie was over, we stopped at Goose’s place and had a hamburger and Coke and had 5 cents left over.
After two or three dates we were engaged. I did not have any money, but we picked out a diamond ring out of the Sears Roebuck catalog, and the diamond in the picture looked big. I borrowed $19.95 and ordered it. When it came in, the diamond was about the size of a mustard seed, but she loved it any way.
That little girl’s name was Zenobia Honeycutt, and her name became Zenobia Bryant, but she was known affectionately as “Miss Duffie.”
She was a wonderful wife, mother, and partner in every thing I did. She passed away in 2004, and I miss her very much. g
