The Man Behind the Shadow

By HP

"The Man Behind the Shadow" is an accumulation of words and a collection of photographs, depicting the life of the man next door, the man down the street, or the old man in the crowd, a common man, from three years to eighty years. The adventures, the misadventures, successes failures, philosophy, personal assessments, memories and contemplations. Plus three short stories and a short documentary.

As one gets older, ones memory, as the rest of us, begin to fade. This reality prompted the pages under this cover.

As time fades and our days are no longer incumbered with long to do list, we sit and remember and ponder. Not what we were thinking two minutes ago, that has vanished. What has it all been about? Who am I? Have I made a difference?

Getting old is what we live for, so why can’t we enjoy it? It is too darn inconvenient. Why do old folks seem to live in the past? The present is bland, boring and depressing at best. The future is worry-sum and bleak. The past recollections can be selective.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Sep 8, 2022
• ISBN: 9781669837596

HP

HP, father of five, grand-father of fifteen, great-grandfather of sixteen. HP, the author, as well as a novelist, has worn many hats, in his eighty plus years. That of an inventor, a sailor, designer, teacher, adventurer, business owner, builder, commercial driver, farmer and missionary. As a missionary, HP served, two years, as a vocational school teacher, in a Philippines, refugee camp, under UNHCR. His service in Cambodia, was to create a business, designed the supply a continual source of income of the poor. In Africa, HP built four houses, two for missionaries and two for nationals.

Book preview

The Man Behind

The Shadow

HP

Copyright © 2022 by HP.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

Scripture quotations marked NKJV are taken from the New King James Version. Copyright © 1982 by Thomas Nelson, Inc. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

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.

Rev. date: 09/02/2022

Xlibris

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Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 1

Introduction

As of today, August thirteenth 2019, I am twenty-three days into my eightieth year. I was born July 22, 1940. Since I do not foresee a lot to write about in my future I, as most my age, will, for my children sake, focus on the past.

Yesterday I read a short sermon by Denver Yoder, a Mennonite layman, that caused an almost immediate brain twitch. He did not relay a new message, but an old one. Life is but a vapor, as a flower, as grass that withers and dies. Mr Yoder had left the funeral of his aunt, the last of his mother’s siblings. His father and all his siblings had also passed. Mr Yoder was now the older generation.

All of the adults I knew growing up are gone. My mother had seven sisters and one brother, they are all gone. My father had two sisters and four brothers, they are all gone. I am now the new old generation.

I was fortunate enough to know one great-grand-parent and three of my four grand-parents. I was fortunate enough to get to know my father’s parents because I spent a good bit of time with them. Part of what prompted the brain twitch was something my grand-mother Price told me, that was never clear to me. Something about a plantation her family owned in Virginia.

Dedication

I dedicate this collection of memories to my mother, who passed away too young at 99.6 years young. And my father who was even younger when he passed. And the time I had with them.

I think the place to start is with the family’s from which I come.

Great-Grand Mother, Gebhart

I don’t know a lot about Great-Grand Maw Gebhart, other than, she came to live with my father’s parents, my grand-parents, when I was about six. I’m sure I heard her name many times but I don’t recall it. I do know she came to them from Virginia in about 1946. As I recall she was somewhat snooty. Great-grand-maw Gebhart and my grand-father were about the same age, she being, maybe a couple years older. She and my grand-father, George did not get along at all. I can almost hear them now, yelling at each other and my grand-mother holding onto the arm, that had a tight fist at it’s end, and calmly saying Now George calm down. One time it got so loud I grabbed my little brother, Richard and took off up the hill to where my cousins lived.

Grand-Mother, Anna Mae Hyatte

I never knew Anna Mae my mother’s mother, she died before I was born. What I know is what my mother passed down to me. Anna Mae was Francis Hyatte’s second wife, Francis brought with him three children from his, deceased, first wife, one boy and two girls. Marion, was about fourteen, Eva was the oldest at fifteen and Marie was nine. My mother recalled times when Francis would beat Marion and even at times used a buggy whip on him. She also remembered him using the whip on her mother. Anna Mae would get the kids dressed for church, but seldom took them. Mother often talked of an aunt, Minnie, her spiritual guide. Anna Mae had five daughters, Norma, Mary (my mother),Thelma, Helen and Alma. Anna Mae died at the age of forty of TB.

Grand-Father, Francis Hyatte

I don’t recall the first time I met Francis. I don’t recall him ever addressing me or paying any attention to me at all. I never saw any of the meanness that I had heard about. I know he lived with his daughter Norma during my adolescent and early teens years. Francis got along well with James, Norma, husband, they seem to be good friends. Francis died at our house (his daughter, Mary’s) of cancer in 1955.

Grand-Father, George Washington Andrew Jackson Price

George was always an old man, to me. He was forty when he married Jessie, my grand-mother, who was twenty-four. My dad Harry was George’s second son. James his oldest was five years older than Harry. Harry, my father, was twenty two when I was born. It is a pretty good guess that George was in his seventies when I was a kid. I believe George came from Casey County KY. Growing up I can remember seeing his brother John on a visit to Casey county. He also had a younger brother, Bill, who was the mayor of Reading OH a small town near Cincinnati. George had been a carpenter and was always teaching me how to build things. I really felt loved by George Washington Andrew Jackson Price. George had two daughters and five sons, Ellen, Rose, James, Harry (my father), Clarence, John-Will and Eugene.

I was seventeen when my grand-father died. He was in his nineties.

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Grand-Mother, Jessie Gabhart Price

Jessie was a rock, she kept everything and everybody around her in check. She was so good at it, I don’t think anyone knew it. Believe me she had her hands full. Keeping peace between George and Great-Great-Grand-Ma, Gabhart, us grand- kids, who were there under foot more than at our own homes. Ellen, her daughter, and Clarence, her son, were still living at home, plus Bruce, Ellen’s son. All six lived in the small five room house. And all six lived there until they passed.

It seemed that she could hear us coming up the front porch steps and have steaming hot fresh baked biscuits and tomato preserves on the table before we reached the kitchen.

Front row, right side pew, Porter Memorial Baptist Church, was where me and my cousins huddled next to our grand-maw. You did not act up, if you did you got the look. I never heard her speak badly of anyone. She seemed to be OK with life. In her last couple years, her son Harry (my father) went to her house every day and took care of her every need. What a great son. And a great example for his sons. I mourned mom-ma’s death for years.

I have lots of cousins,

Mother’s and her siblings’ children (from oldest to youngest)

Eva Hyatte ___?___, I think she had two girls.

Marion Hyatte, I think he had two sons.

Marie Hyatte Doyle, two daughters, Sue and Betty.

Norma Hyatte Puckett, two sons, Thomas, (Tommy,) and Eugene, (Shorty).

Mary Katherine Hyatte, Price (Mother), two sons Harry, (Preston) and Richard Lee. (mother also lost Siamese twins).

Thelma Hyatte Morris, one son, five daughters. Betty, Joyce, Donny, (killed while on his bike, hit by a police car), Carolyn, Janice, and Patty.

Helen Hyatte Courtney, three son, two daughter, Larry, Sue, Earl, Danny and Mary Kay. Alma

Hyatte Presley, one son two daughters, Steve, Rena, and Sharon (Sharon’s twin died at birth)

*****

Father’s and his siblings’ children, (from oldest to youngest)

James Price, one daughter.

Ellen Price Goodwin, one son, Bruce.

Harry P. Price, two sons Harry (Preston) and Richard Lee.

Rose Price Powers. four sons, one daughter, Mary-Jane, Ronny, Johnny, Micheal, and Joe.

Clarence Price, two sons.

John-Will Price, four daughters, Kathy, Linda, Bonny and Tammy.

Eugene Price, two daughters

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5 generations, (from left to right) my mother, Mary, myself, my first born, Robin and her first born, Cassidy, my Grand-Mother, Jessie and my Father, Harry

Chapter 2

A Note: One may be skeptical of many of my memories, as to their accuracy, especially those of my infant years. I base my ages on what was going on around me at the time, namely, World War II. Though I knew nothing of the war at the time, I do have memories of my dad before he went to California for boot camp. I recall going to Sacramento California, by train, to see him before he left for over seas. The events I recall seem to be bundled together. Like I remember events from some time in 1942 to 1944 then nothing until 1946. After 1946 there are no years with out an event. Some of the memories may have been because of picture reinforcements but not all.

I recall walking in the back yard of my Grand-Parent Price’s home on Leader Ave. with my cousin Mary Jane Powers (Aunt Rose’s first born). The yard had bird wire all around, including the overhead. There were wild birds, pigeons and chickens. This is one of the events which was reinforced by a picture taken of the two of us, we appear to be about two.

image4.jpg

I appear to be about 2.5 or 3 here. This picture is one of the four I can recall ever seeing of myself under fourteen.

The US entered the second world war, December 7, 1941 and ended in the spring of 1945. It must have been 1942 when my dad took me with him to the ice house. I recall him picking me up and sitting me over the coupling of two stationary rail road car, both, going and