Out of the Frying Pan

Cledus

My wife suggested that I should write something from my past, one of my many stories I’ve told her and others and since I’ve read so much y’all have written, it’s only fair. So here goes nothing.

I was born in Ohio but raised in Kentucky, the only one in my family born in Ohio. I had plenty of kinfolk in Kentucky, but one particular family comes to mind. First let me give you a little description. These were distant relatives of mine in which we would visit on occasions. We didn’t call ahead for they had no phone, they didn’t even have electricity. Their indoor plumbing consisted of a well pump in a sink in the kitchen. Their bathroom – well, there were these bench-looking things in the bedrooms that when you lifted the seat, there was a pot underneath, and there was a thunder mug under each bed, just in case. Down a trail aways was the outhouse.

But for the house, it was beautifully hand-made, not some shack like you might have seen on TV. Their heat consisted of a wood burning stove in the kitchen, a potbelly stove in the parlor, and a fireplace in the front room. The occupants of the house consisted of Mr. & Mrs. Barber and their son, Cledus. Mr. Barber was an average man, around 5’10” who wore bib overalls when he was working and his dress clothes when they went out consisted of black pants and a white shirt. His wife was about 5’5”. She always wore a dress below the knees with an apron. As for Cledus, he stood around 6’5” and weighed well over 200.

Cledus was born with some degree of mental retardation. Some people would say he was touched, others called him “retard,” but to me, he was Cledus, a man who thought like a child. His parents tried to send him to school but back then they didn’t take time with people with disabilities and other kids just picked on him. So they took him out of school and did their best to teach him themselves. They were also afraid that someone might get him cornered and he might hurt someone by mistake.

His dad referred to him as “strong as a gentleman cow.” I witnessed some of his strength for myself. One time, a couple of hay bales fell from the back of the wagon the tractor was pulling and Cledus just walked over, picked up one in each hand by the straps, and carried them over to the barn like they were nothing. Each bale of hay weighed about 150 pounds.

He had two hobbies, one was he liked comic books in which he would show them to me. He could read, not some of the big words, but could still tell you everything that was going on in them. The other was he liked to make things out of metal: weather vanes, horse shoes, bands for buckets or barrels to name a few. His dad was the one who showed him how to be a blacksmith and Cledus was good at it.

Well, this one time we went for a visit and as usual, Cledus showed me his latest comic books of Spiderman and Superman, then we headed out of the house towards the barn for him to show me his metal creations. And like usual, with his long legs, he was already down by the oak tree in front of the house before I could even get off the porch. I paused for a moment because I saw Cledus going around and around the oak tree like he was trying to catch something. So I just stood there and watched. Finally I realized he was trying to catch a little bird that must have fallen from a nest. Cledus finally caught the little bird and with his big hands you could barely see it as he cupped it so carefully. He was talking to it the whole time.

Then, to my amazement, this big man reached up into the tree and grabbed a branch that was about two inches in diameter, and pulled the branch down at least a foot, like it was nothing. He carefully placed the little bird on the branch. It never occurred to me that he would just let loose of that branch, but that’s what he did. Needless to say, if that bird couldn’t fly, it did whether it wanted to or not!

I was dying laughing, my eyes were watering, I couldn’t hardly even breathe. To make matters worse, Cledus was walking back and forth under the tree, looking up and saying, “Where ya go?” over and over again. I figured the little bird was about seven trees over that way somewhere. Cledus didn’t mean no harm, but I still can’t help but laugh every time I think about it. Hope you see the humor in it, too.