Growing up with J. J.

There is hardly a need to give J. J.'s last name because if you have lived in Del Rio for any time in the last 60 years you know who J.J. is and if you are like me you would never forget his phone number since he's had the same number from before there was a 77 in front of the 5 (5538).

We lived close by each other just across from a drainage ditch where sometime before we built our house there was a swamp which was why the drainage ditch was built. 

J. J.'s house was a two story affair the second floor being necessary because of all the sisters J. J. had and we all fought over being able to spend the night over there. To see what J. J. looked like about this age click here:

One time when we were both about five years young J.J. spent the night at our house and we were having bean fights. Bean fights were when you tore the round tube of cardboard from a clothes hanger and fired raw pinto beans thru the tube at each other. Somehow my brother W.T. accidentally inhaled a bean after being hit in the head by J. J.  We called the operator and asked her to call Dr. Johnson. When the operator asked what his number was I just told her the same thing I had heard my Father say on the phone when he was looking for the Doctor, "Call the poker game in room 609 at the Roswell Hotel." 

When J.J. heard that we were calling the Doctor he freaked out and ran out of the house and into the night. We thought at the time that he was scared because his Grandmother (MeMe) was a Christian Scientist.

Well anyway when Dr. Johnson showed up our live-in maid Magdalena ran off because she was sure that the Migra would show up next and she would be deported the four miles over to Acuna. Our parents showed up about the same time as the Doctor and by then my brother had coughed up the bean, so we started looking for J.J. When Mother called Cardie and Phil to make sure J.J. had gotten home all right they said he had never arrived.

By the time J. J.'s parents arrived to help in the search it was becoming a neighborhood affair with people everywhere calling out J. J.'s name. We were about to call Sheriff Richter when someone decided to look behind the living room couch and there sound asleep was J. J. with the bean shooter still in his hand...........................................

  Story by Johnny Mayfield
  DR class of 1962
  Live with my wife and various pets in New Braunfels, Texas.
  Next week's story is called "The Pied Piper of Garfield Elementary"