November 12, 2015
YOU HIT THE NAIL ON THE HEAD WITH YOUR NO. 27 POCKET JOURNALS.
My dad Edwin Allred grew up on the family farm near Bethel in southern Giles County, Tennessee. He was a combat veteran of WWII and was a very private man. He opened up about very little, and kept to himself most all the time. He passed away in 2008 at the age of 84.
He farmed and raised cattle all his life and always kept a small, spiral-topped notebook in his shirt pocket. In fact, sometimes some area businesses would give out very small pocket calendars that had room to keep notes under each day, so it really didn’t matter to him what he wrote on, as long as he had a tablet to do it. Either way …
HE WROTE IN THESE LITTLE NOTEBOOKS EVERY DAY.
I knew he kept up with fuel use, what he bought at the Co-Op, and how much he spent. We always figured he kept notes for his taxes. We knew he wrote phone numbers of people he met and notes to remember how much seed, or feed, or whatever he bought. Every day we saw him use these notepads all his life.
After he died, I was looking for something in a tool drawer in his shop and ran across dozens of these little notepads.
He would throw them in this drawer when they were full. I picked up one and began to look through it, thinking that I would see what he spent on feed January 6, 1969. I did see a lot of that, but I also found where he made notes about the day his first grandson was born and how happy he was about it. I found notes he made about buying Christmas presents for my mother, my brother, and myself . . . He made notes about the weather and how he felt that day.
There were too many memories to mention, but these little notepads are priceless to my family. I only wish he had had something like the No. 27 Pocket Journal to use.
I’VE STARTED USING ONE TO KEEP NOTES IN. I HOPE ONE DAY MY KIDS OR GRANDKIDS FIND THEM IN A DRAWER IN MY SHOP.