http://youtu.be/iyHulWOZBpk
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HQ_xj3aDjWU&feature=related
I found some of Moody's favorites above on You Tube which you may need to listen to as you to read this...You probably don't remember the yodeling he did, but we all do!
My grandfather Red Stuard had this big booming voice and he was 6'4 lean with red hair and freckles. He loved to tell me stories about growing up in Texas during the Dust Bowl and the Great Depression. He made it sound like the most wonderful place and time to be alive. I loved the sound of his voice telling me about hobos, boll weevils, oil geysers and trains. He would use any excuse to tell me a story about the Great Depression. If he smelled rain he'd explain that was the most glorious smell in the world then launch into a story about drought and the cracked earth of his childhood. Sometimes when my grandmother poured him a glass of iced tea he might jiggle the ice in the glass and tell me that's what you had to do to keep the dust from settling into mud on your tea or the ice cubes from melting in the heat of Texas. He lived in Brookhaven Mississippi for 60 of his 89 years but he always let you know he was from Texas and that it was bigger and better than anywhere else.
Most of his memories included his best friend Boo. He said the two of them would wait until the cool of night to hide out in the tall grass under the big Texas sky talking about constellations and counting stars, pocket knives and knapsacks within reach, just listening for the sound of the train coming trying to work up enough courage to jump on board.
Once the two of them snuck into a Pentecostal church revival tent and I can hear his voice describing how he took off running home as fast as he could terrified by the "faintin' women and children with their eyes rolled up in their head watching when the preacher held a snake to his tongue!" All the time Boo, the braver of the two just sat and watched the whole show "trying hard to get the spirit."
Red and Boo loved to yodel and go to the movies. They memorized the words to every one of Jimmie Roger's songs and spent their time scheming to get enough money to go to the matinees on Saturdays. Once when they didn't have the nickels to get into the show he sat on the sidewalk in front of the Palace Theatre with a pie tin and pretended to be a blind boy moaning and crying while Boo asked people to donate until they had collected enough to get inside. He said he felt terrible about lying afterward but oh how he sure did enjoy seeing Clark Gable on the big screen. In fact for the rest of his life he signed cards on flowers he would send my grandmother "Clark".
When I was 27 years old I was fortunate enough to accompany my sweet tall Grandfather to a reunion in Denton Texas. Moody (as we called him) had a great time visiting with his brothers & sisters, their recollections were as crazy as his and they'd all had such rich lives with successful children. It was the last time they would all be together in Texas and my second cousins and I were old enough to listen and ask as many questions as we could.
When it was over and we were heading south towards home my grandfather made us stop the car on the side of the road just off a two lane highway next to a run down farm. I followed him and held down the barbed wire of a fence so he could step over and he stopped hands on his hips to steady himself and I noticed he had tears in eyes. He just stood a few minutes quietly looking out across the pasture. He then started the only sad story he ever told me. He said his daddy bought a farm and moved the family out to the country just before the depression , they lost everything quickly because his daddy drank and it broke his mother's spirit. Moody shared with me that when she tried to go down to the courthouse to divorce him the authorities just sent her to the doctor and at that time they called what she had "delusions of grandeur. She was hospitalized and the kids all had to stay with relatives a few weeks until she came picked them up. He described to me her sadness when she got home, which was where we stood, she fell to her knees then beat the ground with her fists cursing God for her misery. He said the years of being poor were harder than he had ever "let on"and that he felt a lot of guilt when he left his family heading into the oil fields to make a new life, leaving her and his brother Billy behind to live with his daddy.Then he wiped the tears from his eyes and leaned on me like he often did. (He walked for 88 of his 89 years but his legs were arthritic from an old oil field accident and he was often in pain.)
I can close my eyes today and hear him say "Jeannie you are beautiful, have I told you that you look like Barbara Stanwick ?" My reply, "Yes sir, many times". He then said, "I am glad I got to see this old place one more time although I have no reason to linger. Lets go on home."
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