I was born in 1949 in Paris, Arkansas — a town of approximately three-thousand people — and grew up on a dairy farm several miles from town. Our nearest neighbors lived more than a half-mile away, so any noise made by our cats and dogs and chickens and horses and cattle seldom disturbed others.
My dad enjoyed hunting and fishing, and we quickly milked the cows on weekends when I was young and went hunting during the fall and winter and fishing during the rest of the year if the weather was tolerable. While driving to our favorite fishing lakes or streams or hunting areas, my dad, who was born in 1910, often regaled my brother and me with stories from his childhood or tales he had heard from his father who was born in Washington, Missouri, in 1865. As my dad grew older, I realized those stories would be lost forever unless someone wrote them down for the benefit of future generations, which is why I decided to publish this book.
I've been pleased by the many positive responses from readers of Shaking the Cotton Trees. Many have said, "The stories are exactly like those told by my father!" (or grandfather or great-grandfather)