LARRY and GENEVA OLSON; and 
ROY ARTHUR and CELIA (HARRIS) CHUMNEY

ACROSS THE FENCE

(Before  November, 1984)

By Arvord Abernethy

There are at least two people that you should not expect much out of; one is a share cropper whose first new-born child is a son, and the other is a columnist who has just returned from a vacation. Now you are forewarned.

We had hoped that we would return to find that rains had come and quenched this parched land and cooled things off, but it was not so. I have spent part of my time since returning by watering the grass and shrubs and a few tomato vines we hope will produce when the fall rains come, if they ever do.

Now I’ve just read the Hamilton paper and see that they are asking people not to do any outside watering, and also read that Larry Olson has resigned as city administrator and is moving to Greenville .

Larry, I know you get the blame for a lot of things that happen, but I’ve heard very people blame the drought on you. Don’t let the name Greenville fool you, it is just as dry there as it is here, so the grass is no greener, in Greenville than in Hamilton .

We haven’t had a lot of official dealings with Larry, but all we have had have been very pleasant. We know him best in his church work where we have found him and his wife Geneva to be very faithful. We have so greatly appreciated their singing of duets together; such harmony and sincerity. If you haven’t heard them sing, you might plan a fish fry, ice cream supper or something and invite them over, then ask them to sing for you.

To the Larry Olsons-our best wishes.

Does time seem to drag on your hands: No, I’m not talking about having birthdays. They come much too often when you get to the age when just dialing long distance wears you out. I’m talking about week by week time passing slowly. I’ve tried watching a soap opera, but the story in it unravels about like “molasses in January.” Trying to keep the grass green in this kind of weather or taking care of these electric bills that seem to come every two weeks, have helped some, but nothing has done the trick like telling the Herald-News that I would furnish material for a column each week. By the time I deliver a week’s material and come home and clean off the table of notes and papers, it is past time to get the next week’s material in.

If you should go to a library and see a book entitled “How to Enjoy Life”, then look at the author’s names. It would probably read, “Mr. and Mrs. Roy Chumney, Sr.” They are a couple who cram 25 hours of living into every 24 hours. Whether it is working in the garden or field, preparing a meal for a gathering of that large clan of theirs or worshiping in church, they are enjoying themselves. I believe Mrs. Chumney would laugh even if a goat got to her clothes line and chewed up her best dress.

The Chumneys have just returned from a trip through Colorado , Yellowstone Park in Wyoming, Utah and Idaho that they greatly enjoyed. Their son Billy, along with some other family members, made the trip with them. Besides getting to see all the sights, they got to have a snowball fight in the Colorado Rockies; quite a change from what we were doing down here in Texas .

Another interesting thing they did was to visit a grandson who is working on an oil drilling rig on a location that their son Roy G. helped stake out 30 years ago when he was on a seismograph crew there.

The Chumneys have taken some of the tours sponsored by the First National Bank and they come back with the same response each time, “We had the best time in the world.”

There is this local lady who inherited some bonds, an item she had never had any dealings with, so she took them down to her banker, for some advice. He looked them over carefully and then asked her if she wanted conversion or redemption. She adjusted her glasses, looked all around and then said, “I thought I was in the First National Bank, but I must have walked into the First Baptist Church .”

Shared by Roy Ables