Dear Friends of the Good Old Days,

Grandma Stamps' brother, Sherman Blevins, was more than a great-uncle to me. He was a "great uncle" as well -- a man I idolized. Being my grandmother's brother meant he was considerably older than my other uncles. By the time I was old enough to spend time with him, he was retired, so he could dote a bit on me.

Uncle Sherman didn't live very far from us -- a little over a mile down the road -- but that didn't mean I got to spend as much time with him as I wished I could. He had a small farm, with a gigantic pond out back of his home. When I did get to visit, I usually talked Uncle Sherman into taking me to fish for the perch and small bass that populated his pond.

We made quite a parade, I'm sure. Uncle Sherman led the way, tall and lanky, carrying whatever fishing gear he thought we might need. I followed, usually clad in overalls. My pockets were full of worms and my head full of questions for my sage uncle.

"Uncle Sherman, did cats plant cattails in your pond?"

"Uncle Sherman, when do frogs quit being fish and grow legs?"

"Uncle Sherman, …?"

He quieted me by saying that noise would scare the fish away.

At the end of our parade was my uncle's farm dog Bobbie. Bobbie and I became fast friends, even though he must have been trained to keep me on the straight and narrow path leading to the pond.

One such outing was an idyllic spring day. The fish were biting, and the mosquitoes were not. Everything was perfect until I snagged a bigger-than-average perch, and in my excitement, lost my balance and tumbled headlong into the deep water of the pond.

Without a moment's hesitation, Uncle Sherman's dog was in the water with me, pulling me up by the overalls and then paddling toward the bank. I never knew if Uncle Sherman ordered his dog to the rescue, or if he just did it instinctively when he heard my cry.

Uncle Sherman met us at the bank and finished the rescue. I had lost a shoe and cried that Daddy would have my hide if I came home without it. So, Uncle Sherman's dog was sent back into the water. My shoe was a little the worse for wear, but at least I still had it.

That was twice in the same day that pooch had rescued me. I doubt if I had heard the old adage about a dog being "man's best friend," but I knew that Bobbie was this kid's best friend. It reminds me of the scripture: "Greater love hath no man [or dog for that matter] than this, that he lay down his life for his friends." (John 15:13)

And that's exactly what happened when my canine friend rescued me from Uncle Sherman's pond back in the Good Old Days.

Ken Tate signature
Ken Tate, editor
Get a FREE issue of Good Old Days magazine
just for giving it a try! (A $4.99 value, FREE!)
Good Old Days
The magazine that remembers the best.

Good Old Days magazine is the magazine that remembers the best of times. Feature stories and photos of the good old days of 1900 through 1949 are all contributed by readers. This easy-to-read collection of memories will fascinate the young and the old alike.
Good Old Days Magazine
YES! Please send me my FREE ISSUE of Good Old Days magazine and start my subscription. If I like my free issue, I'll simply pay the attached invoice and get 6 more issues for only $14.97 plus $1.98 postage and processing -- that's one issue FREE and six more as part of my subscription! Otherwise, I'll return the invoice marked "cancel" and keep my FREE issue as your gift to me -- and owe absolutely nothing.
First Name:
 Last Name:
Address:
 Address 2:
City:
 State:
 ZIP Code:
E-mail:
Don't miss out! Get e-mail alerts about your new magazine subscription, special offers and savings from Good Old Days and DRG. Questions? Read our online privacy pledge.

Offer valid in U.S. only!
Canadian Orders 		Give a Gift Subscription!Give a Gift Subscription!