Fence Post Leanings: A Book for Boys Who Want to Be Men

By Walter W. Golden

My grandfather slowly slide to the grorund as he leaned against a fence post. The team of horses, Prince and Pat, were waiting patiently as he called for my brother and me to come over and join him. As we made ourselves as confortabe as anyone could be, while leaning on a fence post, he started to teach us about the importance of having a definate purpose for our lives. He said "without a purpose, you will never know the direction you are going."
My mother and grandmother always seemed to follow up on what grandpa was teaching, even when we worked inside of the chicken house. They taught us many things, because our father was serving in the Navy and unable to be with us.
The teaching even continued as we lifted rocks out of the way of the plow that the horses were pulling.
The purpose of writing this book is to help boys to grow into men. Not everyone has a team of horses to follow, but perhaps this book will help.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Oct 31, 2019
• ISBN: 9781728333816

Walter W. Golden

I spent the first half of my life in college. I studied and graduated from Purdue University, where I learned the importance of understanding history. One of my professors was able to light a fire of understanding in me, and to this day, I still am very interested in historical sequences that have influenced the development of this country. I graduated from the University of Iowa, where I studied physical therapy and applied kinesiology. That training I received was used through my entire professional life. I was fortunate enough to be associated on various occasions with the giants in my profession, and they influenced me to the point of changing my concept of what causes good health. I have practiced for approximately thirty years using manual therapy techniques to rebalance the human body.

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© 2019 Walter W. Golden. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 10/30/2019

ISBN: 978-1-7283-3383-0 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-7283-3382-3 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-7283-3381-6 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2019917450

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.

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.

I have added words to what my grandfather says as well to other characters in this book. The scenes are as close to reality as I can recall. The conversations are distant in my memory, but I’m sure my grandfather wouldn’t mind if he were alive.

CONTENTS

Prologue

Dedication

Other Parts Of The Body Will Always Follow The Lead Part

Always Give Your Best Effort In Everything You Do

Short Cuts Never Work Out The Way You Want Them Too

Aways Correct Your Sighting Before You Pull The Trigger

Never Let A Defeat Or Downturn Control Your Life

The Power Of Prayer Cannot Be Regulated To A Minor Position

Truthfulness Is The Halmark Of A Productive Person

Be A Person Who Is Not Afraid To Say I Am Sorry

Grumpy Old Men Are Not Always Out Of Joint

The Cost Of Being Obedient

This Country Needs Good Shots

Grandad Always Said That Laughter Was The Best Cure

Epilogue

THERE IS NOTHING NOBLE BEING SUPERIOR TO YOUR FELLOW MAN: TRUE NOBILITY IS BEING SUPERIOR TO YOUR FORMER SELF

Winston Churchill

PROLOGUE

Years ago, when my father was in the navy during world war two, we moved to the country and lived with my grandparents, Walter and Phebe Gibson. They were farmers who worked a small farm with no modern machinery, such as what we have today. Their primary tools were two horses, Prince and Pat who did all of the pulling work, a one bottom plow, a hay rake and a wagon that was on occasion used as a transportation vehicle.

My grandmother’s jobs included assisting in milking the cows both morning and night, cooking and feeding us and then washing our clothes. I can still see her praying for us, sometimes twice per day. Every Sunday she made sure we were clean and especially clean behind the ears and this all happened after we had milked the cows, put them out to pasture and fed the dog. She was a woman who spent many hours making some of our clothes. Sometimes Dick and I would get shirts which were made out of grain sacks, but very seldom from store cloth.

When the bread man would come around once per week, my grandmother would purchase some form of bread, if she had the money. Most likely, she would purchase one or two donuts from the truck and then divide them between my grandpa and my brother and me. Occasional our dog, Buster would receive a very welcome bite and even after that, he would beg for more. My grandmother would pray every night for safety for my father and other service members. I can still see her kneeling with one lighted candle, her Bible in her hands, praying very quietly with Buster laying at her side.

My grandmother was our chief medical doctor as well as our cook and any other thing that needed an assignment. Many times, she would swab my throat with Tincher of Iodine when she thought I was stick. Little did she know that I was green looking because I smoked corn silk. I can still see her coming at me with a stick that was about six inches long, with the end of it wrapped in cotton and dripping with Iodine. She would force my mouth open with one hand, while holding the cotton swab with her other hand and then forcing that stick with the swab into my throat. During the war years, everything was treated with iodine or witch hazel. Those two medicines were used on humans as well as animals. I hated that treatment, but it didn’t stop me from smoking corn silk.

One time, as we were butchering chickens, I accidentally cut off my brother’s great toe off with the ax that I used to cut the heads of chickens off. My grandmother rushed out of the house, went into the barn and found the bottle of Witch Hazel. She poured the liquid on his toe and then found the amputated toe, washed it with Witch Hazel and then wrapped and tied it to the stump. My brother hopped from place to place, using broken limb from an old oak tree for many weeks, he finally took the bandage off and the toe had grown back. It’s very crooked now, but he still has a toe, thanks to my grandmother.

My grandfather was a hard worker and he expected Dick and me to work hard when we were assigned certain projects. He didn’t play with us, but he seemed to be constantly disciplining us. The cows were to be milked, starting around 5:30 a.m. and again starting at 5:00 p.m. In between milking times, we cooled the milk down, worked in the garden, went to the fields to help him and did anything else that needed to be done. He was a preacher in a small country church and when he had time to prepare for his sermons remains a mystery to both Dick and myself.

Every Sunday morning, after the chores, we would hitch the horses up to a wagon and all of us, including my mother, would go to church. The building was located on a plateau of