Do you remember the little things?

A View Of Columbus Through Rose-Colored Glasses

This article is dedicated to acknowledging the examples of positives that express the community spirit of Columbus — our town.

When one is a child, grown-ups often say or predict things about that child when that child becomes an adult. My favorite quote (from my aunt Fran) “Nancy Ray is going to look just like Raymond; just look at her long legs. It’s so nice that she will be tall and slender like her daddy.”

This was all based on the fact that my daddy was six feet tall and never weighed more than 132 pounds. I often tell people about this fact because it amazes me. That my physique is just like mother’s; way over 132 pounds and not tall and slender. I marvel at how daddy never asked for a second piece of cake. For sure, he never made a habit of stepping on the scales to check his weight.

It’s time to get to the gist of this story. My daddy did love his hats. He wore some hats for several years. He wore those good-looking Texan type that came from Robert’s Hat Shop in Abilene. Those hats were hand-made. I’m sure the average price was close to $100. It was a big day when daddy needed a new hat. He never splurged when buying a hat since it would be worn at least a couple of years.

These hats weathered rain, hail, and West Texas winds. After he had creased them, it was “his” hat. I wish I were close enough now to go by Robert’s Hat Shop and ask a few questions. The shop was easy to find because it was across the street from the Dixie Pig Restaurant. I do have to add that the hats changed color over time. They started out with a “creamy,” sandy white color. Add a few handprints and a little red mud. Very soon, the new hat had a lot of character.

His hats were very distinguishable and one day I found one of those hats in the Buffalo Gap Historical Museum. It was such a thrill to realize that others felt his hat was worthy of the museum placement. Several years later, I went back to the museum. The hat was no longer there.

I talked to all those people who care for the museum, but to no avail. I left disappointed but believing that the hat would show up. In the meantime, my first cousin, Steve, heard my story and declared he thought that he had one of my daddy’s old hats. Last word from Steve; he is afraid that the rats destroyed the hat.

Life is tedious at times. My legs never looked like my daddy’s, and I have not found the hat. I do have a belt buckle and a rope box with the Dickson brand. I continue to remember neat and funny stories about my daddy. Here’s hoping that you collect your own about your family to share as the years go by.