Papaw’s fence

This little piece of fence brings up fond memories of my grandfather. It’s one of the few vestiges left, but I don’t treat it as a shrine. I just smile at the memories when I see it. That fence post enjoyed its first incarnation as bridge planking. It has a coating of asphalt with gravel imbedded. My grandfather worked for the highway at some point, and occasionally scavenged and recycled such cast- off materials. In those days before the “Stock Law” the whole area was open range, and livestock wandered everywhere. Folks fenced the livestock out of their fields to protect the crops they were growing. Couple of times per year the neighbors would gather with hired help, and have roundups.

A somewhat humorous side note: my grandmother went to her grave, a half- century later, still angry that her husband was required to pay for having that highway job.