Life Lessons from James T. Part 1

          My father-in-law, James Thomas Beavers, Sr., passed away in May of this year.  While the fragility of his later years (he lived to be 94.5) were hard on him, especially after his beloved wife Hazel died, he was in so many ways a role model to me throughout the 30+ years I knew him.  I will not try to describe all those years in a single post; nor will I worry about ordering the memories and "lessons" I will share.  Suffice to say that I think of him often and have tried harder to recall the man I first met and how much he helped us all.

          One of the very first lessons James T. shared with me has remained fresh and useful all my life since.  You might expect the topic to be philosophical in nature, say on how to raise a son (we actually had many disagreements on this topic), but it was actually over a need for a pair of work boots.  Pam and I had moved from Memphis to a small farm in Lawrence County near Westpoint, Tennessee (one store and a post office).  I had worked on my father's family farm near Corinth, Mississippi on almost every weekend and several weeks of the summer while growing up in Memphis.  It is important to note that rocks aren't that common in either Memphis or Northeast Mississippi.  I worked outside for all my teen years and can't recall owning a pair of boots.  I just wore tennis shoes, canvas like everyone else.  Lawrence County soil was quite literally a much tougher nut to crack!  Our 1/4 acre garden looked much like a moonscape and digging holes for a clothesline required hours with a shovel, producing holes substantially wider than necessary just to get the proper depth.  Tennis shoes were not cutting it.  I was pretty poor growing up, so I almost always chose the cheapest possible avenue on any purchase (my brother Rubel made me look like a wild spendthrift by comparison, but more on him in future posts).  James came to visit us multiple times every week that first year especially.  We always had gardening, canning, fencing, etc. questions.  So, I asked him about buying a pair of boots, but I did it like we "ask" so many of our questions, less about his opinion and more about supporting mine.  I showed him an ad with a $30 special on a pair of boots at one of the box stores in Florence, Alabama where we did most of our shopping.  I expected him to agree with me and thereby support my good decision making.  His response stayed with me.

          "Thirty dollar boots will be the most expensive boots you will ever buy!" 

          He let it sink in and gently reminded me I'd be replacing them every year.  You do get what you pay for.

          For the first time in my life I made a purchase that at the time seemed almost reckless where expense was involved.  I studied catalogs (no internet back then) and ordered from a company I had barely heard of, L. L. Bean.  The boots cost @$100 and lasted over 10 years until my feet actually outgrew them (don't ask me, probably more joy from having totally flat feet).  I had them resoled once and the shoe man told me these were a real pair of boots. 

          If you're wondering, yes, the lesson sunk in.  We owned a Troy Bilt Tiller, a Garden Way cart, and good tools most of which we still have.  We sold the cart and tiller when we moved to Germany.  Wish we had them now!

To be continued....