Chapter 1 – Every Story Starts Somewhere…
…and I have always found the best place to start is at the beginning. After what seems like an eternity in Alcoholics Anonymous, I have learned to describe what it was like, what happened and what it is like now – so here goes.
My name is Tim Connors and I grew up in the 1960s in a rural part of Texas. My hometown was the county seat with a population of about 5,000 people. The major employer was the school system followed by the sheriff’s department, the county and numerous small businesses. Other than that, most of the folks in my hometown were farmers, mainly beef cattle.
In addition to school, the social scene for us kids included the various church youth groups, Future Farmers of America (FFA), major sports events and other agricultural clubs and activities. If you didn’t play a major sport, participate in 4-H or FFA, or participate heavily in the official and “unofficial” youth group activities of the two biggest churches in town, you were an outsider.
My dad would have killed me if I was considered an outsider, so I got involved in about everything. My favorite sport was baseball. I was pretty versatile and played wherever I was needed in the infield, but my favorite was shortstop. In our league, it seemed that’s where most of the balls went, so I was always in the middle of the action. I was also a pretty good hitter. My best year was my junior year in high school when I hit .425. That’s not too shabby considering I was hung over when I played a lot of those games.
In my elementary and junior high school years, if I wasn’t playing baseball with my team, you could find me in one of three places – 1) at home studying because mom placed a great premium on school, 2) hanging out with my friends First Baptist youth group at church or 3) roaming the woods with my friends from church or school building forts and just plain having fun. Of course, during hunting season, I spent a lot of time with my friends and our dad’s hunting. Mainly, we went after deer or duck.
If you were a kid from the city who had a lot of places to go, maybe my life didn’t seem too exciting, but us kids had a blast and were never bored. I really cannot think of a time in my life up until high school when I was at a loss for something to do, but my life turned around pretty drastically Christmas of my freshman year in high school.
I mentioned that dad would have killed me if I was ever thought of as an outsider. To him, that would be horrendous because dad was the consummate insider and would not allow one of his kids to be anything less. We had to know everybody. We had to be friends with everybody because that was Dad’s stock in trade. He was the sheriff. The consummate politician who gained respect and power by being everyone’s best friend. Sure we had the county commissioners and the county judge, but the real power rested squarely in Dad’s hands. You could literally do nothing unless Dad gave his approval and everyone knew it.
That put me in a pretty good position as the oldest son of the most powerful man in the county, but there was also a dark side to it. Ask the kid of any powerful man and you will find that the power tends to go to their heads. Not only do they lord the power over their constituents, but they run their home like they run their business.
In my case, Dad’s business was running the county and he ran it with an iron fist. When you were on his good side, your life was heaven, but God help you if you crossed Dad. If you crossed the Sheriff, there would be literal hell to pay and I am not sure if even God could save you from the Sheriff’s wrath.
I remember a man who came to town when I was ten. Being new, he didn’t know all the rules of the town, but he did try to make friends with everyone, even Dad. Dr. Bob had retired from being a brain doctor at Baylor and was looking for a peaceful place to relax and maybe raise a few cattle. He wanted to be a “gentleman farmer,” but being a gentleman did not mean he was a pushover.
Dr. Bob knew he needed to be friends with the main folks in town if he planned on having an active social life, so he dropped in on Dad. He told Dad what his plans were and asked about the local supply stores as well as equipment shops. Dad told Dr. Bob that “most” folks shopped at Stephen’s Feed for supplies and Green Equipment for tractors and such, so Dr. Bob went to both places to check out the prices. The prices at Stephen’s were comparable to what his friends at Baylor paid, but the equipment costs at Green were a lot higher. (They had to be higher to pay Dad his customary protection premium, but Dr. Bob did not know this.).
Dr. Bob decided to buy his supplies at Stephen’s, but went to the John Deere dealer in Waco to get his equipment. He may have thought that was a good business move, but he didn’t know the rules in the Sheriff’s county and he paid heavily for this error in judgment. When Mr. Green told Dad what had happened, Dad hopped in his squad car and went to visit Dr. Bob. Unfortunately, I was with Dad that day and had to watch everything.
When we headed to Dr. Bob’s house, Dad turned on the lights and the sirens. I thought it was because he knew I liked them, but he was really trying to intimidate Dr. Bob.
Pulling up to Dr. Bob’s house, Dad jumped out of the car, slamming the door behind him, and stomped up to Dr. Bob in his yard. “Dale Green tells me you went to Stephens in Waco to get your farm equipment, Doctor,” Dad said.
“That’s right, Sheriff,” the doctor replied. I could tell he was a little scared at the way Dad got in his face, but I could also tell Dr. Bob wasn’t the kind of guy to be pushed around.
“Wanna tell me why you did that sir? I thought I told you that around here, people get their equipment from Dale Green.”
“If I remember right, Sheriff, you said that most people get their equipment from Mr. Green, so I went to check out his equipment, but just about everything he quoted me was $3,000 to $5,000 more than what it would cost me in Waco. Now, I truly prefer to do business with my neighbors and I don’t mind paying for convenience, but the convenience of doing business with Mr. Green wasn’t worth $10,000. So, I bought my equipment from my friend Jack Stephens.”
“Son, I don’t think you understood what I told you. When I tell you that most everybody does business with Dale, I mean EVERYBODY in my county buys from Dale. There a’int not exceptions.
Now, you’re new around here, so I am gonna give you a chance to correct your mistake. If you take that equipment back to Stephens and buy from Dale, I will forget this ever happened.”
Dr. Bob, who had to be older than dad started to turn red. He reminded me of one of Yosemite Sam when he got mad and the smoke started to come out of his ears.
“First of all, Sheriff, nobody calls me son, especially someone 20 years my junior. Second, nobody tells me what I will and will not do with my money. That’s especially true of someone who works for me….”
That was the worst thing Dr. Bob could say and I just knew dad was about to blow up on him, so I ran behind the car before the fireworks started.
Dad reared back and smashed Dr. Bob in the face and the doctor crumpled like a piece of paper to the ground.
“Do NOT,” dad kicked the doctor, “EVER,” dad hauled the doctor back up from the ground, “Think I work for ANYONE,” dad kicked the doctor in the gut, “in this county, boy!” Dad socked the doctor so hard that he flew three feet to the rocking chair on his front porch. As the doctor was nearly unconscious, Dad walked up to him and continued. “This is MY county son. I will do what I want. I will tell you what I want done and you will do it! Do not ever talk back to me again!”
I ran and jumped into the front seat of the car as Dad stomped back to his cruiser. He flung open the door and, as he climbed in, he stopped for a minute, stared at Dr. Bob and yelled, “And return that damn equipment and buy your stuff from Dale or I won’t be so easy on you the next time.”
With that, dad climbed in the car and sped off.
I had seen dad get mad before, but I hadn’t seen him go after someone as badly as he had gone after Dr. Bob. It was then that I realized how effective Dad could really be. Dr. Bob learned a hard lesson that day and so had I. Mr. Green got a new customer and I was really glad that I had never been on the receiving end of Dad’s wrath. I was equally committed to never get on Dad’s bad side either.
