Whenever the news media starts their unending hurricane coverage, my thoughts always turn to memories of my Dad. I automatically think of my dad whenever I hear of a bad hurricane hitting the gulf coast. After all, how many people do you know who weathered the dirty side of one of the largest gulf coast hurricanes while staying right on the Galveston seawall.

It was early September in 1961, just before my 9th birthday when Dad and a convoy of other Southwestern Bell employees headed for Galveston. Since heavy flooding from the storm was likely, the telephone repair crews were moved into Galveston before the storm so they could begin work immediately after the storm went through. Carla was a slow moving storm and the phone crew was in the hotel for at least two days before they could begin work.
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Rita…..And A Flood Of MemoriesRead More »

I know, it’s getting kind of old, me writing all these stories. But, I think, they need to be told. Hopefully, someone will find them enlightening.

I think it is noteworthy how much my Dad liked his father-in-law, George Jacob, Sr.,
Jacob, as his wife, our maternal grandmother called him, was a man’s man, like Dad.
Papa Jacob had a farm in Waller, Tx, which for me and the older children of Rip Smock and our cousins on mother’s side, was a wonderful respite from living in Houston, Tx.
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Papa Jacob’s FarmRead More »

The story I have to tell about my Dad, Rip Smock, I think tells it all about how much he liked his children.

We were at Camp Flatrock, our yearly respite from the heat and busy ness of living in Houston, Texas.

As usual Dad took anyone who was interested, and some who were not, fishing.

We were fishing from the bank, somewhere halfway between the camp and the pecan bottom, which was about a mile down river.

I don’t remember doing anything special. We all had cane poles.
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One More Story About My DadRead More »

Grizzled and hardboiled,
Tough as a boot,
Charming at times.
Never in a suit.

One way is his way
The only say is his say
There is no other way
Than his way.
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My DadRead More »

The unusual thunderstorms and constant rains we are having here this summer bring a torrent of memories flooding back to me, remembrances of another time and another place, deluged with rainwater. We were in the midst of our summer vacation, camping on the Frio River. It was a time my parents, eight brothers and sisters and I looked forward to all year. The trip began like any other, full of fun and excitement and we were enjoying the clear blue waters of this friendly river, when things changed dramatically. This trip was to be a once in a lifetime experience that brought our family closer together and gave us something to reminisce about for seasons to come.

We children frolicked all day in the icy cold waters until our toes turned blue and the sun baked our skin a golden brown. We floated lazily along the river, dreaming of happy lives to come. Our parents relaxed at camp and each evening we had a wonderful barbecued meal (thanks to Dad). At night we built bonfires, gazed at the stars in the unbelievably clear skies, talked of life on Mars, and wondered about the secrets of the universe. When bedtime came, as reluctant as we were to let go of the incredibly wonderful day we had had, we drifted off to sleep with the rhythm of the night sounds humming in our ears. We did not miss our soft beds at home. The security of the darkness and the cool hill country night air made our sleep especially peaceful.
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Memories Flooding BackRead More »

Although Dad never made a big deal out of it, I know he was disappointed that his oldest son didn’t go to work for Southwestern Bell Telephone Company. I know that he really wanted me to, but it just didn’t suit me. I might as well have worked for them though, since most of my childhood memories and many of my adult memories involve the phone company one way or the other. It really is kind of amazing how the phone company influenced my life.
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Growing Up With Ma BellRead More »