According to Harry: My 22 Proofs That God Exists

By Harry Craddock

It is a story about the life of one man, his family, and his friends as they lived out these changing times. It is a sometimes humorous but romantic saga, some history with slices of gallantry, heroism, and bigotry, but in the end, huge amounts of love.

And while this is an autobiography, it also tells facts—not fiction—about the times and happenings during this period in our country. Maybe you’ll see something that brings back your own personal memories.

Follow the life of this ordinary man, as he lived it.

According to Harry

• Language: English
• Publisher: Balboa Press
• Release date: Jan 1, 2019
• ISBN: 9781982217020

Harry Craddock

Harry was born in Shelbyville, Tennessee. He was the youngest of three children, the only boy, the baby by thirteen years (spoiled rotten), and the product of a loving, Christian family. He graduated high school, worked his way through the Navy and other jobs before landing a management job. Now, at 77 years of age, he has two sons, a daughter-in-law, seven grandchildren, three grandsons-in-law, and eight great-grandchildren - all of whom live within 175 miles of each other. Needless to say, considering his upbringing and since his family members live so close to each other, Christmas get-togethers are reasonably raucous and an enormous amount of fun. "Celebrating Christmas" is meant to share some of this merriment and what Christmas is all about.

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ACCORDING TO

HARRY

My 22 Proofs That God Exists

HARRY CRADDOCK

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Copyright © 2019 Harry Craddock.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Balboa Press

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Bloomington, IN 47403

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

The author of this book does not dispense medical advice or prescribe the use of any technique as a form of treatment for physical, emotional, or medical problems without the advice of a physician, either directly or indirectly. The intent of the author is only to offer information of a general nature to help you in your quest for emotional and spiritual well-being. In the event you use any of the information in this book for yourself, which is your constitutional right, the author and the publisher assume no responsibility for your actions.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

ISBN: 978-1-9822-1701-3 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-9822-1703-7 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-9822-1702-0 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2018914230

Balboa Press rev. date: 02/07/2019

CONTENTS

Preface

Dedications

Chapter 1   Before the Beginning —

Chapter 2   In the Beginning —

Chapter 3   Bff’s

Chapter 4   Mimmie

Chapter 5   The Show

Chapter 6   Lesson #1 – Spanking #1

Chapter 7   Lesson #2

Chapter 8   Other Lessons Learned Early

Chapter 9   Spanking #2

Chapter 10   Illness

Chapter 11   Death

Chapter 12   Wimpy, Wimpy, Wimpy

Chapter 13   Puppy Love

Chapter 14   Growing Up — Fast

Chapter 15   Champions! 1956 — Little League

Chapter 16   And then We Visited Rome –Georgia, that is

Chapter 17   Ouch!

Chapter 18   Hero

Chapter 19   1st Public Job – 1st Elected Office

Chapter 20   High School – Spanking #3

Chapter 21   More Championships

Chapter 22   Big, Bad Wayne and more

Chapter 23   The In-Between, The Movie Star, Moonshine, Marijuana, State Trooper, and -

Chapter 24   The Light

Chapter 25   The Trip

Chapter 26   And Then There Were Two

Mr. And Mrs. Harry Craddock

Chapter 27   Preview of the Rest of the Story

Chapter 28   1st Emergency!

Chapter 29   My Wife Can’t Drive?!??!?

Chapter 30   I Hit My Wife!

Chapter 31   Uncle Sam Comes Calling

Chapter 32   And Then There Were Three (backing up to just before the mustering out)

Chapter 33   Years After The Navy but Before Josten’s Again

Chapter 34   And So We Began —

Chapter 35   Josten’s Again

Chapter 36   And Then There Were Four

Chapter 37   Then to Memphis

Chapter 38   and Beyond

Chapter 39   Uh, Dad —

Chapter 40   Heilig-Meyers

Chapter 41   Me, An Attorney? – sort of

Chapter 42   Short Stays – Major Happenings

Chapter 43   And Then There Were Three

Chapter 44   Salute to Esther Paulette Calahan Craddock

Chapter 45   Life Continues

Chapter 46   103 Collier Ave –Gone – Never Forgotten

Chapter 47   Harry’s Chronological Recap

Chapter 48   Legacy of Esther Paulette Calahan Craddock and James Harrison (Harry) Craddock

Chapter 49   And Now —

PREFACE

This is my autobiography—invitingly historical, personal, sometimes whimsical—written with the intention that, in the end, it would be a romantic tribute to my wife.

One of my granddaughters once told me that she felt true love may not exist in the world anymore because you and Grandma took it all.

I knew Chelsea Grace was using her hyperbolic skills, but I appreciated the comment.

Paulette and I loved each other very much, but we did experience adjustment periods in our marriage. Twice, we separated—once for two weeks—once for one day.

While these were difficult and distressing at the time, we were determined to stay together. I only mention them for context, as they will not be discussed in my book. Paulette and I moved on from these long ago.

As you read my book, you will see some other nagging negatives that always seem to creep into peoples’ lives, which Paulette and I conquered!

I hope you enjoy my autobiography, which includes OUR story.

DEDICATIONS

To my wonderful, beautiful, loving, courageous wife, Paulette:

You followed me all over the world. I owe you my entire adult life. You gave it to me and supported it all along the way.

YOU ARE MY HERO!

To Todd and Benji:

I cannot imagine God creating better children than you. If He did, I never met them. You are the epitome of making your own ways and building your own lives.

I COULD NEVER BE PROUDER!

To Rossanne:

While God didn’t see fit to let me have you as my daughter, you ARE the daughter I dreamed of.

I’M PROUD THAT YOU CONSENTED TO BECOME PART OF OUR FAMILY!

To Erin, Robert, Lauren, John, Chelsea, Noah, Layne, Ellie, Kayla, Rhea, Zoey, Lili, Nataleigh, Harrison, and all the others that will come after you:

Your Fathers, Mothers, Grandma and I have all made mistakes, as will you. But always know that we love you and support you and have confidence in every one of you.

IT IS NOW IN YOUR HANDS!

To all my other family and friends:

Some of you are included in my writing, and some are not. But know this, I LOVE YOU ALL!

THANKS FOR THE MEMORIES!

CHAPTER 1

BEFORE THE BEGINNING —

DAD WAS BORN IN 1904.

LIFE IN 1904

MOM WAS BORN IN 1908

LIFE IN 1908

MOM AND DAD WERE MARRIED IN 1928

LIFE IN 1928

My Dad, James Dallas Craddock, was born June 23, 1904. My Mom, Lila Grace Clemmons, was born January 6, 1908. Both were born in the country around Lascassas, Tennessee, in Rutherford County near Murfreesboro. They were married March 31, 1928.

My sister, Edna Rhea Craddock Vaughn, was born April 8, 1929, and was the family historian. She passed away March 31, 2017. But in 2011, she wrote a piece depicting her life, including the periods of the Great Depression and World War II.

Before you start reading MY story, read the following from Sister’s and try to imagine life with my Mom and Dad – before Harry.

***

SISTERS

Edna Rhea and Nancy Evelyn Craddock

A Wonderful Life

By Edna Rhea Craddock Vaughn

(Since this is about me, Edna Rhea, I will write this in the first person. And since this bit of family information involves my sister, Evelyn, I will refer to her as Sister. It would be hard for me to write this otherwise.)

They tell me I was born April 8, 1929.

One day when I was in my early twenties, I told Mother that I remember Grandpa Clemmons carrying me on his shoulder showing me the orchard on his farm. She was surprised because that happened the day Sister was born, April 6, 1931, when I was two days shy of being two years old.

On that day, although the doctor had been to the house to examine Mother that morning, he said he thought it would be some time before Sister would be born. Not long after he left, Sister had a mind of her own and decided it was time to come into the world. Mother called Dr. Kelton and advised him that Sister was on her way, but he did not arrive in time for her birth. Only my Grandmother Clemmons attended her birth.

So that left Little Grandpa (as we knew him) to take care of me.

Daddy worked at Brown's Mill near Lascassas as the bookkeeper. He was called but did not arrive in time for Sister’s birth either. Then, Dr. Kelton and my dad came within minutes of each other and were surprised that Sister had already made her entrance into the world.

I don't remember any of this excitement. All I remember is that I was enjoying being with my Little Grandpa and seeing the fruit trees in bloom. All of this happened on the farm of my grandparents.

As for my birth two years earlier, Mother tells me it was exciting, too. I was also born on my grandparents’ farm. In 1929, the expectant mother usually went to her parents' house, so her mother could help with the delivery and care for the baby.

Mother went to her parents’ house about a month before my expected birth date and stayed about a month afterward until she could take care of me. Because I was her first born, she didn't know what to expect.

They had a hard time getting me to breathe after I was born. She said the doctor held me by my feet, bottom side up, spanked my bottom, but I still wasn't breathing. Finally, Dr. Kelton told Grandma to bring a pan of cold water. He dipped the top of my head in the water. I then gasped and started breathing.

For the first two years of my life, we lived with Grandma Craddock. Grandpa Craddock died before I was born. Daddy, being next to the youngest of seven children, still helped on the family farm. Mother also had her chickens to care for, which included gathering the eggs, as well as other farm chores.

We lived there until after Grandma Craddock died. Because it was during the Great Depression, Daddy decided he could not make a living working the farm. So, we moved to Smithville for a short time while Daddy sold Singer sewing machines.

This was the beginning of Daddy’s sales career.

While in Smithville, they said I would go out of the house every morning, walk one block to the square, walk around it and then walk back home. Mother saw me walking back to the house by myself one day. A black man working at the miniature golf course across the street told Mother not to worry. He said I did that every morning, but he watched me to make sure I was all right and came back home safely.

Then we moved to Murfreesboro into a huge one-room apartment. It was in a big, southern colonial, two-story house on a big cotton-producing farm. I remember the tenants would line up at a gate early in the mornings to pick cotton, carrying their big, burlap bags.

Daddy got a job working at H. G. Hill Grocery stocking shelves. The grocery was located somewhere near the Murfreesboro square at that time. He worked one day and quit. He couldn't stand working inside all day.

Then we moved to Tullahoma when I was about four years old, and Sister was two. Tullahoma had two claims to fame.

The first claim was that it had, and still has, the widest street in the world. The street, Atlantic, runs east and west with six sets of railroad tracks running east and west down the middle of the street. There are homes on the north side of the street, then the railroad tracks, and then homes and businesses on the south side of the street – 385 ft. curb to curb! It was listed in Ripley’s Believe-It-Or-Not.

Also, it may have been one of the first towns in the United States to have electricity in every house. Mayor Horton had an electric light strung to the front porch of each house in Tullahoma.

Our house was on the Manchester Highway. It was a three-room stucco house with both a front and a back porch.

Sister and I slept together in a small iron bed with sides like a baby bed. Also, in one corner of this room was a pot belly stove which heated the two front rooms. The room to the right was Mother's and Daddy's bedroom. To the back of our living room/bedroom was the kitchen, which held a wood-burning cook stove, a kitchen table, and a safe. A safe was more like a kitchen cabinet to store dishes and food. To the back of the kitchen was the back porch.

Daddy was a stickler about washing his teeth daily (and we did say wash our teeth not brush our teeth). There were no sinks with running water in the house, so buckets were used to bring water into the house from a hydrant outside.

When Daddy washed his teeth at night, he would get a glass of water, dip the brush in the water, dip the wet brush in soda, which he had poured into his hand, and wash his teeth. Then he would rinse his teeth, open the stove door, spit into the stove and tap his brush on the stove door to dry it.

One day, he decided to teach me how to wash my teeth. He got me a glass of water, taught me how to cup my hand to hold the soda, dip my brush in water, then in the soda, then wash my teeth. When through washing my teeth, I was supposed to spit into the stove then shake off my brush. Well, I spit into the stove, then threw my brush into the stove, too.

I had to wait until he could buy me another brush before I could continue washing my teeth. They didn't scold me, just laughed a little and explained what I should have done with the brush. But I will never forget that Daddy taught me how to wash my teeth.

There are other wonderful memories from living in Tullahoma. One was that Sister and I wanted a sandbox to play in outside.

There were many flies in the summertime, swarming around the kitchen door just waiting to get in.

What has this got to do with a sandbox?

Well, Daddy told us that he would give Sister and me a penny for every fly we killed on the back porch. He equipped each of us with a fly swatter. One day, we worked hard swatting flies. I don't know how many flies we killed, but the pennies went toward the purchase of our sandbox.

Also, when Daddy came in from work each day, he would empty the pennies out of his pockets into the sandbox fund. The day finally came when we had enough money for the sandbox. Daddy built the sides of the sandbox using four pieces of wood. Then the sand arrived. What fun it was playing in the sandbox!

One summer in the middle of the depression, Sister and I were outside playing when a man walked to the front porch and asked to see our Mother.

We went running inside to tell her a man was at the front door. She came to the door. He was a hobo asking for a meal. Mother cautioned us to stay inside the house. She gave him his food on a ceramic plate (plastic or paper plates were not in general use at the time) and included a glass of water. He sat on the porch and ate his meal. He then thanked Mother, left his plate and glass on the porch, and walked on down the highway. Remember, we lived on the main highway between Manchester and Tullahoma.

I learned a new word that day, hobo.

Another fun time I remember while living in Tullahoma was digging a hole to China. Mother had planted a row of sunflowers in the back yard. The blooms were huge and made some shade in the yard. This was important because there were no trees in our yard. So, while in the shade of the sunflowers, we dug a hole to China.

While playing among the sunflowers, we would often hear a train whistle. There were railroad tracks about two or three blocks from our back yard. In the wintertime, we could see the train. But in the summertime, we could not see the train because of the trees in the back field. But we could hear the trains as they rolled down the tracks. Of course, this was new to us. We had never seen or heard a train before. It didn't bother us at night because we got used to it.

Today, every time I hear a train off in the distance, it reminds me of such wonderful, peaceful times.

My first remembrance of church and worshipping God was at First Baptist Church in Tullahoma. We regularly attended Sunday School, BYPU, and worship in the auditorium, where we sang those wonderful old hymns. Sometimes on Sunday night, the children were invited to sing in the choir. Then later they would go down to sit with their parents.

Sister always had a beautiful voice, even as a child of four. One of the hymns sung that night was Bringing in the Sheaves. Sister was enjoying herself singing this song. She did not know what sheaves were, but she could visualize Mother having sheets hanging on the clothesline, and Mother was bringing in the sheets. So, she enjoyed singing bringing in the sheets.

Christmas was always a special time for us, and we knew from the earliest remembrance that it was the day we celebrated Jesus' birthday.

We always got something for Christmas, although it was usually only one thing along with an orange in our stocking. That's all we ever expected. Sister always wanted traditional girl things such as dolls. As for me, I wanted a truck with headlights, which I had seen in a store