Transcribed by Becky Campbell

June 20, 1946

* Cal's Column *

The editor's "Colyum" came near dying "abornin," due in part to too much work that had to be done. However, there have been quie a few requests for its continuance, as well as some commendation. So here goes again this week.

We have often tried to prophesy about the weather. We recall one occasion some years ago we prophesied that a dry spell was in the making and that a drouth was at hand. This prophesy was made as the writer started to church. That same night about two hours later while the editor was preaching, or at least trying to, he saw a big flash of lightning that lighted up the little valley in which the church house stood. Before the sermon was over, the rain was pouring down and we came near getting wet on our way home in spite of all or efforts to keep dry. His prophesying was something like that of an old neighbor of ours who came by in "hollering distance" of where the editor's father and brother and "Gal" had just started to "pull fodder." This was about 45 years ago. Our father asked the old neighbor what he thought about rain. And the old man's answer was that he saw in the signs a dry spell. Our father, lowering his voice, said : "Boys, we had better quit," after pulling the fodder off eight short rows of corn we quit. Sure enough, that fodder was virtually ruined by rain that fell in a very short time after the old brother's prophesy of dry weather. Well we are going to make another prophesy, and it is that we are "in" for a dry sprell or perhaps a drouth. We hope that it rains before we get home tonight, but we fear that our present dry weather is destined to continue. Our reasons in part are : The recent clouds have largely vanished away without rain, the clouds have apparently carried little moisture, one extreme follows another generally in nature. Much rain fell through the spring and up to a few days ago. So we are fearful that a hot dry summer may be at hand. As yet but little damage has been done and crops generally are growing well. However, the ground in most places is in a very porous condition and the moisture it contains is evaporating rapidly. Because of so much rain up to two weeks ago, the ground will not be able to withstand a long drawnout drouth and at the same time make a harvest.

It is a a dismal picture perhaps, to prophesy a drought when crops are so badly needed. We hope that we are mistaken as was the old neighbor. Our desire is that copious rains may fall during the entire growing season. America, it seems, is going to be called on to feed much of the world. There is even now an alarming shortage of fats, meats, and feeds. a drouth could bring our own nation down to the level of famine stricked China or Europe. Let us hope that we may be favored of the Creator with another bountiful crop.

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Well, we have heard another term used for one's wife that we had never before heard. We have heard wives referred to as "battle axes," "those who never lose an argument," "naggers," "quarrelers," "fussers," and a lot of other names equally as, shall we say, fitting? But we have learned a new one. One man refers to his wife as the "War Department." And we would be willing to guess that he always loses the battle. Anyway, one can hardly live without a wife and neither can he hardly live with one. A woman is not always the sunshine of a man's life just because she it hot for him.

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Father's Day passed off last Sunday. Quite a lot of the "Pa's" were remembered in a nice way, and this goes for this editor. However the occasion has never been widely advertised as has Mother's Day. Anyway, we take off our hats to the dads who labor on from year to year, trying to keep the wolf away from the door, toiling, struggling, sweating and laboring in the midst of many disappointments.

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Some of our friends have gotten quite a kick out of a story that involves the editor. Some time ago when we were moving some printing machinery to Lafayette, we had three truck men and two trucks to bring the equipment to Lafayette. My two sons were with me in my car. We purchased the machinery at Russell Springs, Kentucky, about 100 miles northeast of Lafayette. After loading most of the day, we got through about eight thirty at night, with a light rain falling. Finding no restaurant open at Russell Springs, the editor suggested to the truck men that we start toward home and eat at the first place we found open. We drove to Columbia, Ky., where we found a small joint open. It was the rowdiest place in which "Cal" had ever eaten. The truck men sat down at one table and the editor and his boys at the other. While we were waiting for our orders, a very smart boy, apparently about 15 years of age, walked over to our table and said to the editor: "Weren't you here in Columbia the other night?" We answered him, "No, we were here the other day." He said, "No, it was the other night." "No," insisted the smart boy, "You were too drunk to know day from night." At this the editor became disgusted, but the truck drivers who knew that the editor did not drink, fairly fell away from their tables. The boy kept insisting that he saw the editor drunk, and the editor told him truthfully that he did not drink,m that he had never tasted any liquor in his life, and that he was mistaken in the identity of the person he thought was the editor. Finally he said, "Have you a brother?" We answered in the affirmative, and the boy said : "I know it was your brother then." We denied this, and stated that our brother was in Toledo, Ohio, that he had never been in Columbia, and besides, he did not drink. Again he insisted that the editor was the man he had seen drunk. Again we denied the charge and finally the young fellow walked away form our table, apologizing in a way.. However, we are quite certain he did not mean it, for as he went by the bale where the truck men were, all of whom had known the ediotor for years and who loved a good joke, the boy said : "That old man was in Columbia the other night and he was as drunk as H--l." Then Buie Massey, Will Halliburton and Woodrow Jones, the truck men, almost passed out with laughter. They fooled with the boy fro perhaps ten minutes, but on the last, to their credit I will say, they said: "Boy, you are mistaken. That man doesn't drink. He is a preacher and he has never drunk any liquor in his life." The young fellow's parting shot was : "Well, he looked just like him."

Of course we have had a lot of jesting about this episode. We had been in Columbia some days before we "et" our supper there. But the boy's charge w3as entirely untrue, although it gave our three friends one of the best jokes they ever got on the editor in their lives. Although a little embarrassing, we did not fall out with the smart young thing that made the charge, nor did we blame Jones, Massey and Halliburton for the big kick they got out of it.

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