Today is my Birthday, it’s also Abraham’s birthday and no doubt millions of others too. Like Lincoln I was born in a log cabin. Except it was in South Eastern Mo. near a little town called Bois’ D Arc. I’m told that it means “wood of the bow” in French, though I don’t know how it got it’s name. I know there are some trees in the area that are called Bois’ D Arc trees. A very strong springy wood that is almost indestructible. You make the best fence posts from it because it will not rot away. Indians made there best bows from it or any handle for any tool that has to last forever. People in that area were a lot like that. They were tough, they seem to just keep going in spite of their hardships. The only economy in the area was farming and that didn’t pay much.
My father and mother were like that wood, you couldn’t wear them out, they kept springing back and they kept at their jobs till they were done. We went from one rented farm to another till we moved to a big city where Dad finally got a good job and retired there. There were hard times on those old farms but as usual I didn’t know it, I was having a great time growing up and exploring every nook and cranny of life. So far I haven’t lost my curiosity, but I’m not sure if I’m made of the right stuff or not…..