T.Bone King's Recollections

WHAT I REMEMBER ABOUT MY DAD
Narrated by T.Bone King in 1988 and tape-recorded by his grandson Andy King

I've been asked numerous times what I remember about my dad [Guy King]. Really and truly, I think I remember less about him than I pretend to, because Mother filled me in on so many things after I got up around eleven or twelve years old. I began to think about Dad, and I would ask her questions. But really and truly, the only thing I can remember about my daddy was when we were in Texas, and in the early fall my brother Shelton came up from down the road to help Dad put his wagon bed back up on the frame. I was standing out there--a six or seven year old boy, possibly in the way. They reached down to pick this wagon bed up, got about halfway up with it, or less, and both of them stopped and let it down real easy. I remember my dad turning to me and saying, "Now you get back over there." So I walked off over by the storm cellar door. Dad went down toward the barn, and I don't remember what he got, whether it was a hoe, or a rake--some kind of implement--and he came back with it, and went around to the wagon bed, kind of placed himself, and got ready. Shelton turned the bed over and pulled it up on its edge, and Dad killed a great big old rattlesnake. When they had started to lift that bed up, they had heard the rattling of that snake, so they let it back down. I remember the snake--it was a great big thing--because Shelton and Dad both, after they had killed it, stretched it out, and looked at it, and I don't remember the comments, but of course they talked about it. And really and truly, when it comes down to it, facts and so forth, that's the only thing I remember about my daddy.

ARMISTICE DAY
Narrated by T.Bone King in 1988 and tape-recorded by his grandson Andy King

Dad had died in Texas on the 15th of March, 1918, and sometime that summer we came back to Tishomingo. The first thing I remember about Tishomingo of any consequence was along about the night of the 13th or 14th of November, 1918. The Armistice had been signed on November 11th, and I don't know just when the townspeople heard it, maybe about 24 or 48 hours later.

On the afternoon of that day, some of the women of the town got some material that they made cotton sacks out of, and they made a dummy and filled it full of hay and cottonseed and cotton and anything else they could get to put in it, and they wrote the name Kaiser on each side of it. They put some kind of a hook or something in it. At that time there was what had been a watering trough for farmers to water their stock, but that had long since gone by the wayside, and best I remember, there were flowers in it during this particular time. There was a pipe that had been there for the trough, and it resembled, and was used for, a flagpole--it had a little rope up to it. They hooked this dummy on the rig and pulled it up to the top of that pole, which was some 20 or 25 feet high.

Everybody in town that had a firearm was invited to come down that night. They were all there. Alton came and got me, took me to town with him, and placed me up against the wall in front of the Ford garage. He said, "You stay right here. You can see everything, you can hear everything, you won't get hurt, and you won't be in the way." And I remember I stayed there until he came back for me. Everybody who had guns, who was going to do any firing, got over on the north part of Main Street, and everybody had to fire south. Boy, when they started shooting, you never heard such a racket in your life. Everybody was shooting, they were whooping and hollering, and blasting and shooting. I don't remember, but I think that went on for about an hour and a half or two hours. I know it was just about dark when they started and well after dark when they finally quit it. After that period of time they had that dummy just absolutely cut and shot all to pieces. Then somebody's bullet hit the rope that was holding the Kaiser up--hit it up near the top, where the pulley was, up against the pipe--and down came the Kaiser! Well, you never heard such a racket, whooping and hollering, and everybody who had a gun had to fire two or three rounds up in the air. It was a great occasion, and Tishomingo celebrated the killing of the Kaiser in the middle of November 1918. That's the first thing of any consequence that I remember about Tishomingo.

HOW WE FOUND DAD'S GRAVE
Narrated by T.Bone King in 1988 and tape-recorded by his grandson Andy King

Dad had died in 1918 and was buried at the little town of Afton. Between 1918 and 1958 nothing was done [about obtaining a gravestone]. I didn't even know where Dad's grave was. I had been out there once, looked around and couldn't find it. Alton and Mamie were living in Stamford and I went down there to visit with them. Went down there on Thursday and left on Sunday about noon, at which time Alton and I went out to Afton, out to the little cemetery. We looked around and looked around for the grave, and we just absolutely could not find it. It was a November day, the wind was really blowing, and it was pretty cold.

We went to the post office, because Alton said there was a member of the Winkels family working in the post office, and sure enough there was. We asked her if she could help any, but she didn't know anything about it--had never heard it discussed--didn't know a thing in the world about it. But she told us that a certain man living on the highway about a mile and a half or two miles north of town had been here a long, long time, and if anybody would know anything about it, he would be the one.

So we drove out there. The man had a little country store and filling station, and we went in, warmed ourselves by his fire for a little while, then Alton told him who we were and what our business was. He stood there and pondered for a full minute, I'm sure, and then he looked at us and said, "I'm sorry, but it just doesn't register. I don't know a thing about the situation and can't be of any help. But you go south of town about where a curve to the left starts. At a little incline, turn off and go about a hundred yards and you'll come to Uncle Joe. I'm sorry, I don't remember his last name, but his house is on the right. He's been here always, so go and talk with him."

So we drove out there, got out and went to the door. Alton rapped on the door, and a man hollered, "Come in." We went in. He had one of those Indian fires built in the fireplace and was sitting straddle of it. Alton told him what our mission was and asked if he know anything about it. He said, "Yes, sir, I know right where it is." Alton said," Well, that's great. Will you go out there and show us where it is? There are no markings or anything." The man said, "I'll be glad to." He put on a little short overcoat that came down to about his knees, went out and climbed into that little red Plymouth, and we took off again.

Mother had always told me that Dad's grave was just inside the gate as you go into the cemetery. She said, "Now, it's not the first row or two of the stones, but it's in the third row, and it's about one or two graves from the road."

We got out there--it was a pretty good road out on the north side--and we drove in the gate. Uncle Joe said, "Turn right." So Alton turned right and drove down to where the fence was, at the end of the cemetery almost, and the man said, "Stop right here." We got out, and he got out of the back seat, walked over and said, "This is the grave, right here," and pointed to it. There was no marker, nothing to indicate that there was anyone buried there. He said, "It's here," and Alton said, "Are you sure?" He said, "Yes, Mr King, I was here when your daddy was buried. I was a young man, but I was here." We just said, "All right."

Shelton had told Alton, "If you and T.Bone locate that grave and buy a little monument--stone--I'll come over there and set the stone." Well, we bought the monument, got it ready, and Shelton was notified. By that time, it was December, and it was pretty cold, so he waited until about April to come over there and set the stone. He called Alton one night and said, "I'll come over early in the morning, and we'll go out to Afton."

We drove out there and showed Shelton where this grave was. Alton said, "Now, that fellow said he definitely was present when they buried Dad, and that is it." Shelton had brought all his tools in his pickup, and he took out a little mallet. He hadn't dug but about three inches with it until he slowed down on his stroke and began to rake. At about four inches below the surface he found six yellow bricks. They were standing on end, and the lettering on them was "S G KING." [Guy's full name was Sterling Guy King.] Well, you know you couldn't ask for any better proof than that. That little old fellow Uncle Joe was just as right as he could be when he said, "I was here, and that is the grave." Shelton set the stone and got everything organized, and it looked real good.

If you go out there to look at the grave, you'll see that we made an error of one year on the stone. Our problem with it not being just inside the gate like Mother had said, was that they had built a road on the north side and moved the gate around to where you come in on the north side. Before that, you came in from the west side.

I'm ashamed, but that was 1958, and I haven't been out there since. But I'm going to go, maybe this summer, which will be the summer of 1988. Thirty years is not too long to wait for something if it is of great interest to you.

Corrections, additions, updates, comments, and suggestions are invited.
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