I must first tell you the story of why I talk so very much. It all started on a cold January morning when I was just a day or two old. My Papaw, Marvin Brown, became so worried that I had not made a single sound since they brought me home in the snow storm from the hospital that he went to Dr. B.C. Tubb and asked him if something was wrong with me. Dr. Tubb assured him that there was nothing wrong with me and in due time I would let the world know I had arrived. Sure enough the time came! By the age of three I had become quite a talker and never met a stranger.
Papaw never called me by my name. He had a special nickname for me, "Caleb". I never knew why he started calling me that but I never once remember my name crossing his lips. I followed him every step when he plowed the fields with his mules and talked none stop most of the time. If my little legs got tired there was always a sack of fertilizer to rest on while we drank water from a Mason jar wrapped in a brown paper sack to keep the water cool. Many long conversations at the end of the long rows taught me a lot about life. He taught me a lot about flora, fauna and folks! I want to pass the information on to my grandchildren but there is no mule to follow and no sack to sit on so maybe someday when they are older they will read some of the things I have to share here and learn a little about the same things.