As we approach Thanksgiving, with its emphasis on being thankful, I have recently been witness to a few folks who are actually older than I am, who have great reasons to be thankful for their continuing health – as I am thankful myownself for that very same thing!

I learned to drive a tractor (yes, Virginia, they had been invented by then) as a boy sitting in the lap of Jessie Ford, because I couldn’t quite push the clutch in on the little gray Ford tractor, plowing beans in the south newground.  Jessie left Brownspur in the mid-60s to seek his fortune in the Chicago area.

His father, however, stayed on the farm and eventually retired, right across the road from my house. Deacon will be 98 Christmas Day, still drives his car, and still sings in church. His tenor voice was recalled by another musician who was raised up close to Brownspur, name of B.B. King, whom I ran into when we were both visiting his old church on the Kinloch Road close by the Sunflower River a decade ago.

Mr. King (“I learned most of my music in this old church”) said that he remembered the Brownspur church music lady, Mrs. Henderson, coming there to lead revival music when he was a kid, and “She’d bring with her a short bass singer (Longmile Harrison), and a tall slim tenor,” whom I identified as Deacon Ford.

Couple of weeks ago, Deacon ended up in the hospital on a Sunday morning after a bout with internal bleeding, the result of too much painkillers trying to cope with bad knees, the which I empathize with.  

However, he came away from the hospital once more healthy, except for the bad knees, and has gone to visit Jessie for the winter, when bad knees are worse, as I can testify. But he vows to return!

We had supper at Lost Dog Pizza Company last winter with my Godfather and Godmother, among others, where he and I got to commiserate about the sad state of recent duck seasons.  

My elder complained that, “The last morning of the season, I waded out 200 yards in crotch-deep water, stood for two hours in ice water, then waded back, but never got a shot!”

Ten minutes later, he was reminding me not to forget his birthday later that month, which would have been his 91st, except for the fact that he was born on the last of February on a Leap Year, so next Leap Year, he’ll be celebrating only his 23rd Birthday.

I ran into him again just last week in the grocery store, and he remarked that he had been bothered a low pulse rate lately, so his doctor had installed a pacemaker.  He said, “I asked him before I left how long these things lasted, and he said about 8 or 10 years, so I told him to order me another one now before the prices go up, and make me another appointment for nine years from now!”

Just today I saw another old friend, who if she were not a lady would also be classed as somewhat older than me, and she said she had just gotten another stint put in her heart, her second, and she was feeling fine.  

“I asked the doctor how many places I had to put some more of those in, for the future – I don’t want to lose track of how many other stints I can accommodate,” she grinned.

I had lunch yesterday with a friend who has passed the three-quarters of a century mark, yet had spent the past few days in the tight confines of an attic fixing a heating unit. He’s had several by-passes, but walks a couple of miles a day plus working at whatever he feels like doing.  

I idly wondered over a BBQ sandwich, “At what age does one get to feeling like he’s old?” His reply was that he didn’t know, because he ain’t felt thataway yet, though he had a suspicion that he probably should have by now.

Just last week, I spent four hours over a grill, cooking for my grandson’s second birthday party.  

Watching Sir and almost a dozen others his age running from train rides to the blow-up jumper to the new swing and climbing construction, and their parents trying to keep up with them, I was glad to just be assigned grill duty.  

Birthday parties are fine occasions, whether one is two, or 98 Christmas Day, or looking forward to his 23rd birthday party on the next Leap Year, or actually feeling somewhat younger as the Opening Day of Deer Season looms!