That hoe is about 53 years old. I am sure that Dad looked at several hoes before he bought this one. His eyes and hands would have made a very close inspection of the wood handle before he spent any money on it. He would have looked at the grain of the wood to determine the straightness and toughness of the wood. Dad can tell what wood it was made from – Otis knew trees. Otis would know the tree’s characteristics, strength and weakness. Otis knew wood.
His hand’s prints are all over the handle. In fact, from Dad’s right hand position on the handle, the wood is ¼ inch thinner. His VIP ring probably helped to wear it down. Mom’s hand made impressions as well. Certainly, Lewis, Bill and Bob hands left their marks in that grove as well. Dad showed you how to use the hoe one time and you better use it correctly. We had to use it and we all did. The hoe is always left in the garden and at times the hoe was used to mix concrete in the wheelbarrow. Simply, that hoe did not sit around. Each family male was expected to pass it on.
Dad has a built in time clock in his head and with it, he knew how much ground a boy can cover could cover in an afternoon after school. No excuses, you better cover that amount of ground. Also, he knew how deep you sunk the hoe into the ground and one just can not run the hoe on top of the ground. He knew people abilities when it comes to work as he knew wood. At times, he chewed people out. I never saw him bite into wood.
Dad knew his wood so well that he at times was called as an expert witness at several trials. Many times he will testify in trial to assist the court to determine the value of trees.
Sometimes I think Dad tempered sons and daughters to “tree” strength and hardness. Sometimes I think I am a Willow and other times, a Hickory.
I am glad that Mother always let us cut our switches when she used them. I’m not sure why Dad always used that shaving strap on Bill & me. Boy, I hoped I had those corduroy pants on when he bend me over! Usually, he caught you at bed time with long johns on and dropped the rear bottom trap door. Bang!
But, now as when I use the hoe, I talk to my Dad. I don’t remember the strap so much. I remember him teaching me to work, to do a great job and to do it right the first time. I also learned the bark of the tree, shapes of the leaves, the colors of seasons, be strong as a Hickory but yet have the flexibility to bend, and to appreciate nature.
Otis, thanks for the hoe. I’m grateful for the lessons that came with it.
No, it is not just an old hoe. Sure, it looks old, worn and withered with cracks that run with the grain in the wood. The blade is worn down but is sharp as a chain saw when you file it. The hoe blade’s metal is tougher than “pigs iron”. There is no manufacturer’s name on it. I’m glad, it was Otis hoe.
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