Wilson Greely Crapps, 7 January 1933
Daddy....
Where to start….
It would almost impossible to find another man, at least within the scope of all the men that I have known or heard of in these 7 decades, who could surpass Daddy in the qualities that made him so well-known and well-loved in Appling County. I can start by mentioning honesty about which Daddy was almost fanatic. His love for honesty in all matters was inspiring, but to a wild, young boy, very cumbersome. He would not allow any deviation form telling the truth. He was respected for it, and I loved him for it, but it sure caused some angst when I wanted to bend the truth to cover my antics.
Daddy was, without doubt, a unique genius. He could analyze and figure out problems better than anyone I have still ever known. He never gave himself credit and he was always incredibly introverted and shy, and that kept him from realizing the value he should have been given as a leader and a great man. Daddy became the "go to" man in the county because, really, he could fix anything. He could fix an outboard motor, he could repair any tractor for any ailment, he could remove and repair and replace car engines and transmissions, and bulldozers. He just had that gift. I could and might write an entire book about his unrecognized greatness, but it is from a time gone by and only a handful would care or realize the impact of it.
Daddy was strict, sometimes too much so I think, but I now recognize that much of it was because he, like so many other too-young parents, he was learning and growing himself. He wanted perfection from me, and he was a great leader and teacher in getting it. But he was quick with the belt when I did not measure up, and usually rightfully so. He would give me a strong whipping if I received anything less than an "A" on my report card, every time. Of course I hated it, but he won by instilling in me the internal commitment to never do less than the best, with no exceptions, at whatever level.
Daddy taught me to be patient and quiet (although I misplaced some of that along the way). We would sit for hours and hours beside the creek from 10pm until 2am, with 15-20 "set hooks" baited and waiting for catfish to bite. I would get impatient and ready to go home, but he would always want to wait just a little more "Beep" (his nickname for me), and you will see. Sure enough, right about the time I'm ready to stomp around in disgust, the first would start biting and we would take home 20 or 30 2 pound catfish to feed the family for many days. He would never let me be satisfied with cutting the set hooks improperly, but would make me thrown the mistake away and start over, time after time, until I got it right.
Daddy taught me to be innovative and inquisitive. He found a 1956 English Ford Anglia around my 12th birthday, and dragged it home (not operational) and told me that if I could work in the fields and raise $50, I could buy the car and he and I would rebuild it and I could have it. My gosh……. I did. Daddy and I took the car completely apart. I learned each part from JC Whitney auto parts magazines, ordered the needed parts ad repaired the others, and within the summer we had the old car running. Daddy taught me every part of the car and how to analyze it and repair it. I managed and drove that car around the countryside for many years, learning to drive and be 'free'.
Daddy tried to teach me honor and loyalty, and yet in my later years I am confident that I abandoned much of those qualities. He would never let me give up on any job, no matter how hard or unpleasant, once I started it, I must finish it. Hard lessons, and some that cause me some troubles now, as even when I am struggling and losing, I find it almost impossible to quit.
Daddy taught me to keep your vices and your ailments to yourself. I have not completely learned that but I continue to work on it.
Daddy loved Mama… period… unrequitedly, unreservedly, unashamedly. Not much else really mattered to Daddy except her desires. He was never able to give Mama much in material things. Everything was always second-hand or sub-par from a material view, but every single thing in his life was focused on her.
I was always amazed that Daddy never achieved great things in the world. His genius, his character, his work ethic, his devotion, his loyalty, his personal discipline, all are the characteristics that are noted to lead to greatness and success. Yet, they never came to Daddy, despite his commitment to them. He was looked down on by most of his peers as being a poor servant class. For example, his greatest devotion was his lover for Miles Chapel Baptist Church, where he converted to Christianity as a boy, and never left serving that church. Working as the gardener, the handyman, the janitor, the waiter, the repairman, but he was never recognized as the true servant (deacon) which he aspired to be. The 'deacons' of the church held back on accepting him into the 'deacon' guild until most of his life of servitude was long past.
Daddy's was a life lived in quiet happiness, fulfilled with his sweetheart and his children, and satisfied with his ability to share with me and my siblings and with anyone who needed him. A true servant, with exceptional character and recognition of true worth, he tried to impart those same qualities to me, but I will never be even half the man he was, nor will I ever have the peace inside that Daddy had, being at peace with himself.
So much more to be said, and will be said, in these accompanying blogs, but all of course, much too late, as Daddy has moved on through this life, but having left some huge footprints to be filled by those of us who follow.
Grandpa Horace and Grandma Gracie (Horace Greely & Gracie Lee Smith)Grandpa & Grandma were a central force and influence in our lives, both for good and for bad. Their house was about 300 yards across a cornfield, uphill from the Old School House where we live. Grandpas was 62 and Grandma 59 when I was born. I shadowed Grandpa. I thought he was the coolest man in those growing up years. I can still recall the smell of the cigars he smoked incessantly and the way Grandma subjectively cowed to his every wish and command. Their house was like a haven for us. It had fans in the summer and was heated in the cold winters, and the porches were the place for our small games of imagination and joy. When Mama and Daddy worked, we often spent our days with them.
We piped our water across the field from Grandpa's house, in 3/4 inch black plastic pipe, and almost every winter it would freeze underground, burst, and require digging up and replacing. I became an expert of splicing that hard pipe with joints and aluminum screw clamps, when the water was frozen and the ground harder than brick.
Grandma was a good cook, and loved preparing for us and everyone. I still recall seeing her, dressed in voluminous clothing whether it was 50 degrees or 90 degrees, walking into the briar fence rows, picking blackberries and plums for every kind of pie and cake and jam. She stored them in an old, black kitchen food safe, with wire coverings to keep out mice, and it was a joy to go to her kitchen and eat.
Grandpa tried his hand at everything. He and Daddy farmed the small home place (owned by Uncle Tommy who was away in the Navy), raising mostly corn and hay. At first, it was farmed by 2 mules, which were kept in the mule barn behind the house. It was quite a feat to try to follow Daddy as he plowed the mules up and down the field, when I was about 6-7 years old. My legs just simply were not long and strong enough, but I tried. Later, Grandpa bought a 35 Massey Ferguson tractor, and that replaced the mules and became the obsession of my life. I would go to the barn where it was parked, and just start it up and sit on it just to hear its engines running.
Grandpa raised pigeons for sale, he raised goats, he raised pigs and beagle dogs. He trained the dogs for hunting and he and I spent many glorious hours in the woods, listening to the dogs (Major, Colonel, Sue and others, with their distinctive voices which Grandpa could recognize from miles away), find and chase the rabbits or other prey back close to Grandpa, where he or I would shoot and kill them, then prepare them for dinner.
His influence in my life cannot really be measured. I followed him daily, when Daddy was away at work, learning about trees, animals, knives, guns, tractors, creeks, land and everything that a boy would and should know about being a man in America. He seemed never to tire of my millions of questions.
There is no end to the stories about them, and yet with each word I write, more flood my mind in recall and sweet fondness.
Grandma MinnieThe first daughter of Horace & Gracie Crapps, Grandma Minnie, Daddy's real mother, was vaguely known to us growing up. She had abandoned Daddy basically at his birth (and also his younger sister, Barbara), who was adopted by Grandpa & Grandma and named Wilson Greely Crapps).Grandma Minnie visited from wherever she lived at the time, mostly at Thanksgiving and sometimes Christmas, and she would stay for a few days and then was gone. I won't elaborate on her vague past life, as she cared little for us children and hardly anything for her own, so she does not merit much brain energy for me. She later moved back to the home town, (Baxley, Georgia), and eventually died there, with Daddy doing his best to accommodate and take care of her.
Where to start….
It would almost impossible to find another man, at least within the scope of all the men that I have known or heard of in these 7 decades, who could surpass Daddy in the qualities that made him so well-known and well-loved in Appling County. I can start by mentioning honesty about which Daddy was almost fanatic. His love for honesty in all matters was inspiring, but to a wild, young boy, very cumbersome. He would not allow any deviation form telling the truth. He was respected for it, and I loved him for it, but it sure caused some angst when I wanted to bend the truth to cover my antics.
Daddy was, without doubt, a unique genius. He could analyze and figure out problems better than anyone I have still ever known. He never gave himself credit and he was always incredibly introverted and shy, and that kept him from realizing the value he should have been given as a leader and a great man. Daddy became the "go to" man in the county because, really, he could fix anything. He could fix an outboard motor, he could repair any tractor for any ailment, he could remove and repair and replace car engines and transmissions, and bulldozers. He just had that gift. I could and might write an entire book about his unrecognized greatness, but it is from a time gone by and only a handful would care or realize the impact of it.
Daddy was strict, sometimes too much so I think, but I now recognize that much of it was because he, like so many other too-young parents, he was learning and growing himself. He wanted perfection from me, and he was a great leader and teacher in getting it. But he was quick with the belt when I did not measure up, and usually rightfully so. He would give me a strong whipping if I received anything less than an "A" on my report card, every time. Of course I hated it, but he won by instilling in me the internal commitment to never do less than the best, with no exceptions, at whatever level.
Daddy taught me to be patient and quiet (although I misplaced some of that along the way). We would sit for hours and hours beside the creek from 10pm until 2am, with 15-20 "set hooks" baited and waiting for catfish to bite. I would get impatient and ready to go home, but he would always want to wait just a little more "Beep" (his nickname for me), and you will see. Sure enough, right about the time I'm ready to stomp around in disgust, the first would start biting and we would take home 20 or 30 2 pound catfish to feed the family for many days. He would never let me be satisfied with cutting the set hooks improperly, but would make me thrown the mistake away and start over, time after time, until I got it right.
Daddy taught me to be innovative and inquisitive. He found a 1956 English Ford Anglia around my 12th birthday, and dragged it home (not operational) and told me that if I could work in the fields and raise $50, I could buy the car and he and I would rebuild it and I could have it. My gosh……. I did. Daddy and I took the car completely apart. I learned each part from JC Whitney auto parts magazines, ordered the needed parts ad repaired the others, and within the summer we had the old car running. Daddy taught me every part of the car and how to analyze it and repair it. I managed and drove that car around the countryside for many years, learning to drive and be 'free'.
Daddy tried to teach me honor and loyalty, and yet in my later years I am confident that I abandoned much of those qualities. He would never let me give up on any job, no matter how hard or unpleasant, once I started it, I must finish it. Hard lessons, and some that cause me some troubles now, as even when I am struggling and losing, I find it almost impossible to quit.
Daddy taught me to keep your vices and your ailments to yourself. I have not completely learned that but I continue to work on it.
Daddy loved Mama… period… unrequitedly, unreservedly, unashamedly. Not much else really mattered to Daddy except her desires. He was never able to give Mama much in material things. Everything was always second-hand or sub-par from a material view, but every single thing in his life was focused on her.
I was always amazed that Daddy never achieved great things in the world. His genius, his character, his work ethic, his devotion, his loyalty, his personal discipline, all are the characteristics that are noted to lead to greatness and success. Yet, they never came to Daddy, despite his commitment to them. He was looked down on by most of his peers as being a poor servant class. For example, his greatest devotion was his lover for Miles Chapel Baptist Church, where he converted to Christianity as a boy, and never left serving that church. Working as the gardener, the handyman, the janitor, the waiter, the repairman, but he was never recognized as the true servant (deacon) which he aspired to be. The 'deacons' of the church held back on accepting him into the 'deacon' guild until most of his life of servitude was long past.
Daddy's was a life lived in quiet happiness, fulfilled with his sweetheart and his children, and satisfied with his ability to share with me and my siblings and with anyone who needed him. A true servant, with exceptional character and recognition of true worth, he tried to impart those same qualities to me, but I will never be even half the man he was, nor will I ever have the peace inside that Daddy had, being at peace with himself.
So much more to be said, and will be said, in these accompanying blogs, but all of course, much too late, as Daddy has moved on through this life, but having left some huge footprints to be filled by those of us who follow.
Grandpa Horace and Grandma Gracie (Horace Greely & Gracie Lee Smith)Grandpa & Grandma were a central force and influence in our lives, both for good and for bad. Their house was about 300 yards across a cornfield, uphill from the Old School House where we live. Grandpas was 62 and Grandma 59 when I was born. I shadowed Grandpa. I thought he was the coolest man in those growing up years. I can still recall the smell of the cigars he smoked incessantly and the way Grandma subjectively cowed to his every wish and command. Their house was like a haven for us. It had fans in the summer and was heated in the cold winters, and the porches were the place for our small games of imagination and joy. When Mama and Daddy worked, we often spent our days with them.
We piped our water across the field from Grandpa's house, in 3/4 inch black plastic pipe, and almost every winter it would freeze underground, burst, and require digging up and replacing. I became an expert of splicing that hard pipe with joints and aluminum screw clamps, when the water was frozen and the ground harder than brick.
Grandma was a good cook, and loved preparing for us and everyone. I still recall seeing her, dressed in voluminous clothing whether it was 50 degrees or 90 degrees, walking into the briar fence rows, picking blackberries and plums for every kind of pie and cake and jam. She stored them in an old, black kitchen food safe, with wire coverings to keep out mice, and it was a joy to go to her kitchen and eat.
Grandpa tried his hand at everything. He and Daddy farmed the small home place (owned by Uncle Tommy who was away in the Navy), raising mostly corn and hay. At first, it was farmed by 2 mules, which were kept in the mule barn behind the house. It was quite a feat to try to follow Daddy as he plowed the mules up and down the field, when I was about 6-7 years old. My legs just simply were not long and strong enough, but I tried. Later, Grandpa bought a 35 Massey Ferguson tractor, and that replaced the mules and became the obsession of my life. I would go to the barn where it was parked, and just start it up and sit on it just to hear its engines running.
Grandpa raised pigeons for sale, he raised goats, he raised pigs and beagle dogs. He trained the dogs for hunting and he and I spent many glorious hours in the woods, listening to the dogs (Major, Colonel, Sue and others, with their distinctive voices which Grandpa could recognize from miles away), find and chase the rabbits or other prey back close to Grandpa, where he or I would shoot and kill them, then prepare them for dinner.
His influence in my life cannot really be measured. I followed him daily, when Daddy was away at work, learning about trees, animals, knives, guns, tractors, creeks, land and everything that a boy would and should know about being a man in America. He seemed never to tire of my millions of questions.
There is no end to the stories about them, and yet with each word I write, more flood my mind in recall and sweet fondness.
Grandma MinnieThe first daughter of Horace & Gracie Crapps, Grandma Minnie, Daddy's real mother, was vaguely known to us growing up. She had abandoned Daddy basically at his birth (and also his younger sister, Barbara), who was adopted by Grandpa & Grandma and named Wilson Greely Crapps).Grandma Minnie visited from wherever she lived at the time, mostly at Thanksgiving and sometimes Christmas, and she would stay for a few days and then was gone. I won't elaborate on her vague past life, as she cared little for us children and hardly anything for her own, so she does not merit much brain energy for me. She later moved back to the home town, (Baxley, Georgia), and eventually died there, with Daddy doing his best to accommodate and take care of her.