[July 10, 2023] I was born in Arkansas, close to a line of small towns that ran south into Louisiana along what is now state Route 165, where all my relatives married, worked, raised their families, and died. My hometown is Mer Rouge, where I learned to be a young man. I lived in this little village, without even a traffic light, for a time longer than any location in my life, to this day. The town’s population is less than 200 families. It is intersected north and south by railroad tracks.
We routinely visited our grandparents and cousins, at most an hour’s drive along a winding two-lane country road. The folks that lived in these small towns were all the folks we knew. I’d not been in a town with more than two traffic lights until I was in Junior High School. The main streets were paved a few years before we moved into town, and it had two adult bars, a general store, a clothing store, a small diner, and a gas station.
Half my classmates were the farmers’ kids, and they were poorer than us, as they lived on dirt roads and often without running water, but they did have electricity. The real poor lived outside town, had no doors or windows and were all black families. Our grade school only closed when large thunderstorms rolled through because the dirt roads became impassable.
For entertainment, we played outdoors with our friends, went hunting, fishing, camping, or ran around town with our friends and dogs. I also had a few jobs along the way, like mowing yards, raking leaves (there were many leaves), sorting junk at the town dump and reselling what I found of value, and delivering newspapers. Most of the time, we would get friends together and play baseball, seeing who could run fastest, swim in local ponds, hunt rattlesnakes with sticks, throw dirt clods at wasp nests, and catch butterflies, frogs, and lightening bugs (at night). We always were on the lookout for poisonous snakes, poison ivy, hornets’ nests, and high school boys who would chase us off if they found us looking at older girls they claimed as their dates.
On Sunday mornings, we regularly attended Sunday school and church services. Mom ensured we were dressed up, suit coat and tie, polished shoes, black socks, and a white shirt. She gave each of us a quarter to put in the collection plate. I gave myself to Christ at ten years old, and the pastor baptized me by full dunking at our Southern Baptist church. That was really, really cool. I enjoyed Sunday school because the men running it taught us the stories of the Bible and their meaning. I wouldn’t say I liked sitting still in church; it was hard, the pastor was boring (I did not listen), my brother watched his shoes, my sister looked like she was paying attention, and I squirmed.
Life was easy, overall. The pace of things was slow. Sometimes I would go down to the cotton gin to watch them bail the cotton and prepare it for shipment. The bales were moved by hand, and the workers had to be tough. The cotton was shipped out of town by train, and went to places I had no idea where. My favorite pastime was fishing in the lake nearby using a pole, hook, bobber float, and worm. I dug my own worms, and they were good bait. Mostly, I caught sunfish. My dad made me clean and gut them, and only then would my mom fry the fish for dinner.
I never really liked school. Oh, I did okay. School never challenged me, and some teachers scared me because they were “mean” (actually, they had high standards). I never got a butt-whupping, which was a source of pride, but the school principal came close one day when I was caught talking in the lunch line. No talking. You ate and got out. The lunch was 10 cents and included a small carton of milk. And you ate everything on your plate, monitored by the teachers. The best part of school was recess, school plays, my friends, and the teachers. I was not too fond of reading, writing, and arithmetic. I also did not do well on my citizenship marks.
Our doors to our home were always open and unlocked, even at night when we were asleep. There was essentially no crime. Sometimes, town drunks were violent, but as kids, the adults hid that from us. The town adults were wonderful. The local combat vets would tell us scary stories. The volunteer fire department gave us rides on the one firetruck they had. And the stores were run by their owners, who always gave us kids a nickel to spend on candy. Small-town life there was not just easy; it was good too.
Then we moved to the big city.
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Please read my books:
Thanks Gen. Satterfield for this series of letters. I see now that you created a new page for these letters and are building them into … a book?
I hear that Riley Gaines is suing the college now that they allowed students to assault her, and then also sent those same violent student letters thanking them for “protesting.” Good news. Riley, sue their pants off.
Great news.
EXCLUSIVE: Riley Gaines says she will SUE after San Fran State University praised trans-rights activists for a ‘peaceful’ protest where she claims she was assaulted and held for ransom – and asks: ‘Does my freedom of speech not deserve to be protected?’
https://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-11954951/Riley-Gaines-SUE-college-praised-activists-peaceful-protest-claims-assault.html
Gen Doug
I can relate to this article. I grew up in a small town and lived on dirty country dirty roads. I was poor. I worked at young age to help out bills. I paid for my own dress and school stuff. I cherish the values of country living taught me. You granddaughter will be blessed by your transparency in your sharing yourself to her. Life now are much harder than when you and I grew up. Crime and gun violence are on the rise.
Wow, made me laugh when you wrote about throwing dirt clods at wasp nests.
This is what being a good grandfather and good human is about. Write your grandkids, or just your relatives to let them know your thoughts and what you are doing with your life. Don’t wait for them to learn lessons the hard way, and fatally in some cases. Tell them what made you a success like Gen. Satterfield is doing here.
Sir, turn these into a book at some point in the future.
Autistic Technie, thank you for the recommendation. I might just do that. Let’s see how it goes over the next few months.
Thank you, sir for reading our comments.
Gen. Satterfield, great website. Thank you!!
Gen. Satterfield is the best.
… and that is why I read his blog almost every day. And, I also like the fact that he has a yellow lab dog.
Cool!!!!!!
“Half my classmates were the farmers’ kids, and they were poorer than us, as they lived on dirt roads and often without running water, but they did have electricity. The real poor lived outside town, had no doors or windows and were all black families. Our grade school only closed when large thunderstorms rolled through because the dirt roads became impassable.”
Gen. Satterfield, please keep writing these letters to your granddaughter. I really liked the Introduction letter.
https://www.theleadermaker.com/letters-to-my-granddaughter-the-introduction/
Yep, same here. Gen. Satterfield sure is making it easy for us to learn more about how to build up ourselves and kicking back with a martini on the beach is not one of them. Once you ‘retire’, then you are not sitting around watching the boob tube or playing games but are actually making the lives of others better or at least helping them do so. I hope one day to have kids and grandchildren as Gen. Satterfield has done. 👍
Most of us think this way.
Learning more and more each day what makes Gen. Satterfield tick. These letters do explain a lot and why his success is not from privilege but exactly the opposite, maybe from the fear of failure that is driving him forward. Fear of poverty and fear of hell. I’m afraid of that too.
🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃
Great website, keep it up. A suggestion for Gen. Satterfield …. write a letter to your great grandkids. Now that would be something to read.
Greetings from up North, your Canadian friends to America. Gen. S. is making it hard not to write letters for my future grandkids. Just imagine if you, today, were able to open a letter from your grandfather. Imagine what he might have to say to make your life better and more fulfilling. Would you not appreciate that? I think so.
Yes, and that is why I’m doing the same!!!!!!!!
Keep these coming our way, Gen. Satterfield.
Folks, get copies of his books and give them away.
❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤
Yep, great website, don’t change a thing.
I agree with you Otto. The only change I would actually like to see is more articles. But that is just me. I’m one of this website’s longest reading readers. Go figure that I would like to read more.
I agree with Otto. You da man.
Just a short note to Gen. Satterfield to say thanks for him giving me so many great suggestions on how to do better in life. If you ware the person that your kids and thier kids remember, then you have made a mark on the world. Keep up doing what you are doing, Gen. S. 😊
Love this bunch of letters. I’m doing the same for my kids (as they are still young).
Loving this series and finding out more and more about Gen. Satterfield. For those new to this blog, be sure you get a copy of either or both of his books, you will be happy you did. The best one, IMO, is “55 Rules for a Good Life.” Now, don’t get me wrong, there is no guarantee – like so many Gen Z’ers want. But this book goes a long way to get there.
https://www.amazon.com/55-Rules-Good-Life-Responsibility/dp/1737915529/
Got my copy yesterday, get your copy today and be sure to leave an honest review on Amazon.
If you are a new reader and can read, just kidding, then get your own copy of these books from one of America’s greatest patriots.
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🇺🇸 Thank you, American Girl. Im with u on this one.
Bam! Great series. When and if I ever have grandchildren, I plan to do the same.