November 12, 2018 - When my Pastor called me at ETBC one day (1951), he brought me the news I was waiting for. He had gotten me an appointment to preach at a small Baptist Church within "hitch-hiking" distance from Marshall. I had not bought my ’41 Ford yet and had really good luck "thumbing a ride" to my preaching appointments. I arrived at the Roberts home late one Saturday afternoon and was visiting around the yard with their 11-year old son, Billy.
When he asked me if I knew how to shoot his sling shot, I reached down and picked up a flat slender rock… about the shape of a nickel… the kind we called "A Sail-er" as we grew up. About that time, Billy hollered, "Look!!… there’s a bird" … and a mockingbird lit on a distant fence post. "Watch this," I said, as I pointed in the bird’s general direction and shot. I have never seen a "Sail-er" sail like this one did. It sailed in and out on its way to the fence post…, and finally hit the mocker square in the head! "You killed my mocker!" Mrs. Roberts shouted as she bailed off the front porch and ran to the bird.
Before we got ready to go to church the next morning, Mrs. Roberts cooked dinner and put it on the table. It was the kind of food I dearly loved… all from their garden… corn… peas… okra. Mrs. Robert’s silence was noticeable after I shot the bird that evening, but when we walked in the door after church, the kitchen was just filled with chickens. "Shoooo," she shouted, as squawking chickens fled from the dinner table and out the back door. The dinner that followed that day was unusually good… even though the chickens had first try at it.
The next morning as I hitch-hiked back to college, I thought about how nice Mrs. Roberts had been to me. And I never convinced her or Billy that I was not an ace at shooting sling-shots. They never understood that it was that flat rock… not me…
… that killed her mocker.
