Elroy
Elroy Brown was my friend. He was half of a pair of twins, brother Leroy making up the other half. "Leroy is ten minutes older than me" Elroy often said.
He taught me how to curry a horse and clean their hooves. How to harness mules and drive wagons. How to "gee" and "haw". To chop cotton and press cane for sorghum molasses.
[caption id="attachment_946" align="aligncenter" width="1424"]
Elroy and Mark with Nellie, 1989[/caption]
I met Elroy when I volunteered many years ago at the Jourdan-Bachman Pioneer farm in Austin - a living history farm. The farm at that time was funded in part by the city of Austin, and staffed by college educated folks. Except for Elroy. Elroy's education came not from a classroom with walls, but rather one where a failing grade meant going hungry.
[caption id="attachment_947" align="aligncenter" width="1472"]
My now grown children, 1989. Nellie smiles for the camera.[/caption]
He never finished high school but instead went to work farming cotton just east of Austin. He was shamed by of his lack of formal education, and privately commented on it often. He encouraged all the youngsters he encountered to stay in school and learn all they could. His proudest accomplishment was his children. He often bragged on his daughter, who at that time was in the US Air Force working in the medical field.
When groups visited, it was Elroy who brought the farm to life. I vividly remember a group of students from the Texas School of the Blind. Elroy had our standard bred horse Nellie tied outside the barn, and was telling the students about using horses to farm. Intuitively Elroy brought the children to Nellie, and put their hands on her. I saw a dozen faces light up when Elroy helped them "see" a horse for the first time.
The rest of us were playing dress up. Elroy shared his life. No amount of training, reading, research, or knowledge that we could attain could measure up to Elroy's authenticity. Even the little children who visited could intuitively sense it. Elroy quite literally was the soul of the farm.
He was a gentle soul, with a high pitched breathy tone of voice I still hear from time to time in my head. Clean shaven, "apple faced" in 1880's period costume, and always moving, always working, always teaching. His beliefs were simple and old-fashioned. He valued honesty, hard work, loving his family and caring for his neighbors. Fortunately everyone Elroy met was a neighbor.
We once had an epic ride on a wagon with a pair runaway mules who had walked into a patch of bull nettles and bolted as the nettles stung them. Every time I saw Elroy after that he would say..."hey Mark, you 'member that time them mules run off with us? Boy that was somthin'?. Fortunately Elroy had the reins and knew what to do. All I had to do was manage not to fall off, which was nip and tuck for a bit.
Elroy enjoyed a bit of celebrity too. Texas Monthly once ran a story on him, but his biggest claim to fame was playing a blacksmith in Lonesome Dove, Episode I, which contained several scenes shot on the Pioneer Farm. He told me that they shot the scene he was in many times, and was embarrassed that the cut they chose to leave in the film caught him spitting tobacco juice (something he had tried not to do for several takes). He was afraid that it might be a bad influence on the youngsters. After the mini-series ran, I would rib Elroy each time I saw him, asking for his autograph. We laughed about that often.
Recently reading through Wendell Berry's "Look and See", memories of Elroy came back to me. I think he and Wendell would have enjoyed one another's company. Elroy passed away several years ago, but my life was enriched by the friendship of this gentle man. I would sure love to sit in the dog trot of one of the farm's cabins, with a big mason jar of sweet iced tea and listen to Elroy once more.
He taught me how to curry a horse and clean their hooves. How to harness mules and drive wagons. How to "gee" and "haw". To chop cotton and press cane for sorghum molasses.
[caption id="attachment_946" align="aligncenter" width="1424"]
Elroy and Mark with Nellie, 1989[/caption]I met Elroy when I volunteered many years ago at the Jourdan-Bachman Pioneer farm in Austin - a living history farm. The farm at that time was funded in part by the city of Austin, and staffed by college educated folks. Except for Elroy. Elroy's education came not from a classroom with walls, but rather one where a failing grade meant going hungry.
[caption id="attachment_947" align="aligncenter" width="1472"]
My now grown children, 1989. Nellie smiles for the camera.[/caption]He never finished high school but instead went to work farming cotton just east of Austin. He was shamed by of his lack of formal education, and privately commented on it often. He encouraged all the youngsters he encountered to stay in school and learn all they could. His proudest accomplishment was his children. He often bragged on his daughter, who at that time was in the US Air Force working in the medical field.
When groups visited, it was Elroy who brought the farm to life. I vividly remember a group of students from the Texas School of the Blind. Elroy had our standard bred horse Nellie tied outside the barn, and was telling the students about using horses to farm. Intuitively Elroy brought the children to Nellie, and put their hands on her. I saw a dozen faces light up when Elroy helped them "see" a horse for the first time.
The rest of us were playing dress up. Elroy shared his life. No amount of training, reading, research, or knowledge that we could attain could measure up to Elroy's authenticity. Even the little children who visited could intuitively sense it. Elroy quite literally was the soul of the farm.
He was a gentle soul, with a high pitched breathy tone of voice I still hear from time to time in my head. Clean shaven, "apple faced" in 1880's period costume, and always moving, always working, always teaching. His beliefs were simple and old-fashioned. He valued honesty, hard work, loving his family and caring for his neighbors. Fortunately everyone Elroy met was a neighbor.
We once had an epic ride on a wagon with a pair runaway mules who had walked into a patch of bull nettles and bolted as the nettles stung them. Every time I saw Elroy after that he would say..."hey Mark, you 'member that time them mules run off with us? Boy that was somthin'?. Fortunately Elroy had the reins and knew what to do. All I had to do was manage not to fall off, which was nip and tuck for a bit.
Elroy enjoyed a bit of celebrity too. Texas Monthly once ran a story on him, but his biggest claim to fame was playing a blacksmith in Lonesome Dove, Episode I, which contained several scenes shot on the Pioneer Farm. He told me that they shot the scene he was in many times, and was embarrassed that the cut they chose to leave in the film caught him spitting tobacco juice (something he had tried not to do for several takes). He was afraid that it might be a bad influence on the youngsters. After the mini-series ran, I would rib Elroy each time I saw him, asking for his autograph. We laughed about that often.
Recently reading through Wendell Berry's "Look and See", memories of Elroy came back to me. I think he and Wendell would have enjoyed one another's company. Elroy passed away several years ago, but my life was enriched by the friendship of this gentle man. I would sure love to sit in the dog trot of one of the farm's cabins, with a big mason jar of sweet iced tea and listen to Elroy once more.
Comments
Thanks, Jim