Part of the enjoyment and privilege of being raised in Bandera is highlighted by the many friends I have accumulated over the years. New or old I have drawn closer to them as I have come to appreciate how special it is to have them.
Since reaching the stage of my life where I have accepted and wear the title of 'oldtimer' like a badge of honor it has become bittersweet. The ones still around here who were with me all through those school years hold a special place in my heart and it hurts so bad when one is lost.
Recently I received a message that John Tucker had passed away. He was a special friend in many ways. When I was a little kid I knew him as one of the older Tucker boys who lived by my Granddaddy Kindla. Here in later times he would bring a load of firewood for me and my son to split for him. That always turned into storytime and he had some good ones from back in the day.
He reminded me one day that he had known me since the day I was born as he recalled stories about living near my granddaddy. He talked about living in that area around what is now home to the 11th Street Cowboy Bar. His family lived in that house that is still there on the corner of Cypress and 11th.
That little woodframe structure where the old part of the bar is located was a barbershop back when John was still in school. He said Mr. Coughran who was the barber warmed him about trying to flip his outhouse over at Halloween time.
Some of those old outhouses were fitted with hinges so they could be flipped over and pumped out. John said, 'like most teen boys I didn't listen' so he learned what it felt like to get shot with rock salt. As things were back in the day he received no sympathy from his dad, 'You were warned!'.
I remember the old house that was situated about where the 11th Street stage is now located. Pearl Edwards lived there and she had a fountain in the back where she kept goldfish. John told me there was trouble brewing in the neighborhood when she accused my uncle Tommy Kindla of getting her goldfish to use for catfish bait. If you knew my uncle Tommy then you know it was probably true.
My granddaddy like many of those early Polish folks made mustang grape wine and he had an old root cellar where he kept some finished bottles of wine. John along with Pudge Kalka got into the cellar and stole a bottle.
They got caught only because they drank it all at once and got so drunk and sick that they had to confess to the crime. He said the sickness was actually worse than the whippin' his dad gave him.
I'm sure gonna miss John with his smiling face and laugh as he told us tales of bygone days. I wish I had gotten more. So many stories like these of early life in Bandera are slipping away.
Now I still have my friend Richard Kinsey who was my partner in crime back in our high school days and beyond. Many times when John was storytelling it brought to mind some of the trouble Richard got me into when I was so young and innocent.
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