What a great thread, very interesting learning about your heritage.
Bullfrog, a question...you popped that guy I hope, I thought I could hear you shaking up your can of "whoop-ass" in that story! 
Man, what a jerk!
Actually, after stomping the swamps of Southeast Texas every night hunting rabbits that would have been like slapping a little kid, he was no threat. I was a pretty good sport about my poverty once I aged a little. It made me humble and gave me an insight to what really matters in a person. It's not what they wear on their back or thier finger, but what they wear in their heart.
There was a horse stable behind my house that people could rent stalls to keep their horses in. There was a large corrall and plenty of room to ride on the hill. Chickens, ducks, goats, you get the picture.
I spent a lot of my youth there and got to ride the horses. There was an old black man named Dan who did the maintenance there. He lived in a camper shell on a pickup that hadn't ran since he parked it there.
My dad was gone to sea for the first five years of my life and then absent in the bars thereafter. Dan took me under his wing and taught me a lot about the woods and nature.
His meager salary bought him staples, bread, salt, flour and a can of Bugler rolling tobacco. Everything that he ate came out of the swamps and I was his eager student following on his heels. He hunted, fished and trapped for his food.
He always had a coon skin nailed to the barn wall salted down and sold the pelts. He taught me to stalk, fish and clean my game. Being born the only dark skinned kid in an all white neighborhood I tasted prejudice at an early age so it didn't matter to me that he was black, we bonded.
Everyone at the stables openly insulted him and looked down on him because he was black, this was the early 60's in deep Texas. He taught me well, "Don't pay them no mind and don't let their words hurt ya none, God don't see color, he looks inside, they is ignorant" He took their insults with a silent grace and dignity, I respected him.
I spent a lot of time with Dan as I could relate to him. The kids at my school made fun of me because I was dark and poor, so was he. But even with his lack of formal education, Dan had a lot more decency and common sence than the "educated" other men that I ran into.
Even to this day, if he was still here, I wouldn't hesitate to leave my young granddaughter in his care.
I remember him teaching me how to catch catfish. He had a way with words and was very patient teaching a young boy. Sitting beside him, a catfish pecked at my line and he coached me like this.
"Lissen
son (that word mean't a lot to me, as I needed a Dad), ole catfish, he ain't got no hands. He ain't got no fingers. like you an me. He gonna smell it... bite it... taste it and f*ck with it some. When he get ready, he gonna swallow it up to his a**hole and den swim off. Dat's when ya set de hook." It worked every time.
I looked up to Dan as a Father, friend and mentor. He lived off of the land and knew so much. He taught me to move when the wind blew, so the game that you were stalking couldn't hear you. He taught me how to clean my catch so you could cook and eat it.
Little did I know that I would need these skills much later in life when I was hunting rabbits for my lunch at the age of 23. That is one of the truly amazing things about God is that he lays things like this at your feet many years in advance, knowing that you would someday need these skills just to eat lunch?
Looking back, isn't it really amazing that he sent this man into my life to teach me these things? Talk about timing.
Dan taught me a lot about the woods and nature, it was his classroom. But he taught me more than that. He taught me that the true color of a man goes a lot deeper than his skin which is a lesson that some never learn and one that really matters.
"Don't pay them no mind and don't let their words hurt ya none, God don't see color, he looks inside, they is ignorant"
Those words echo even today. Without a formal education, Dan was a major influence on my life and taught me the lessons that carried a lifetime, one of the best people that I have ever had the priveledge of meeting.
So, maybe our heritage can't be traced back that far. Maybe we will never know who our great grandfather was or where he came from. Still, there are people in our past that left footprints on our heart and soul, and they are our lineage. People that taught us lessons that really mattered. Surrogate grandfaters or Dads, they matter too and I want to hear about them also.
Was there someone who made a major difference in your life? I find it curious that a man who had and still has my ultimate respect, was a man that most looked down upon and never gave a second glance. They didn't know what they missed.
I never knew Dan's last name, when he died or where he is buried. But in my heart I know that Dan raised another son and taught him well.
So.. where ya from?
