Dearest Isabella, Part 8

Just a few other people to mention. There seem to be so many, but I am going to limit myself. You may continue to receive e-mails over the years of people that I have thought of and want to tell you about. Right now, I will limit it to four more people.

Glenn Davis Broaddus My mother’s brother and prank player deluxe. I have heard more stories than I can count about the pranks that he played on my mom. He loosened the cinch on the saddle of the horse that my mother and Uncle Glenn road to school. Mother would get on and promptly fall off as the saddle came off the horse. He figured out a way to hotwire the seat of their old Model T Ford that they drove to school later on and would shock my mother. He laughed how he would watch her squirm. Again, not a complainer, Mother never said a word. When I ask him to sign my autograph book, he wrote “To the little girl that needs a moving van every time she goes out of town.” Apparently, this characteristic was begun early and one of the first “discussions” Coach and I had was all the luggage that I took on our honeymoon. When the valet man at the Village Inn in Lubbock opened the truck, he looked at Gary and said “All of this?” You never know when there is going to be a formal and I wasn’t going to be caught short.

Luther Earl Sheldon Aunt Evelyn’s husband from Des Moines, Iowa. I could write a book, but will keep it to a few lines. The way he treated Aunt Evelyn stands out most. While he was in the war, he arranged for a florist to send her flowers every week while he was away. He always bought her the prettiest gifts at Christmas and I admired their 50 plus year love affair. One time I remember him drilling Mollie and I on the state capitals while we rode a jeep up a narrow mountain in Lake City, Colorado. Why that stands out, I don’t know. He just expected a lot out of us and helped us achieve it. There were family vacations in Colorado and holidays in San Angelo or Amarillo and a two week vacation to California with six people in a small car. Mollie and I were promised a motel with a swimming pool the last night of the trip. When we would get unruly, my Dad would say “Do you want Uncle Luke to ‘lay down the law’? I didn’t know what that entailed but I was pretty sure I didn’t want to find out. He worked for Phillips 66 all his life in San Angelo, was a elder in the church and was a community leader. I can’t pass a Phillips 66 station without thinking of him.