Dad & Smoking

My father smoked most all of his life, and he always taught us not to smoke.  I had three brothers, and our father always told us that, if we wanted to smoke, just ask him for a cigarette.  He said that if he caught us smoking behind his back he would give us a severe whipping.

One day we brothers were together talking about that, and my father was outdoors talking with a man who was visiting.  My oldest brother decided that he would ask my father for a cigarette, so he walked out of the house as we watched through the window.  He walked up to our father right in front of the visitor and asked for a cigarette.  My father never even flinched.  He simply reached into his pocket and gave him a cigarette.  My brother walked away and came back into the house.  Then he said, "What am I going to do with it now?"  Well,  he did not smoke it, but we found that our father meant what he said.

My father, Willard Wolfe, hoeing his tobacco crop [about 1953]
At this time we lived on the farm of Earl Wallace.  The farm was on
the Morgan-Cardova Road.

It is nice to have a father who says what he means and means what he says.  We could always trust him, and that is a good feeling.

I took this picture when I was visiting one Christmas in the late 1960's.  My father used to roll his own cigarette.  That is the reason he is licking this one.

His attire with the flannel shirt and the engineer hat was his favorite clothes.  He always wore suspenders, and his pants were open a lot, because he could not stand the tightness around his waste when he got older and was ill from heart disease.  I sure do miss him!

More Picture Of My Dad -- Willard Wolfe