Letters to My Granddaughter, No. 36

By | November 12, 2023

[November 12, 2023]  The rain was coming down hard.  The night was hot.  For that reason, I was allowed to sleep in Bigmama’s twin bed on the first floor, next to an open window; only the screen kept out the night air.  An old, oscillating fan blew a breeze over me; occasionally, a spit of rain would come through the window, catch in the fan and blow it on me.  That morning, I woke to the smell of frying bacon, handmade biscuits, and grease-fried eggs.  Bigmama was up early, getting Granddaddy’s breakfast ready.  After he ate, it was our turn.  And it was true that Bigmama’s breakfast was the best.  But, that day, the anticipation of Granddaddy finishing his repair of a 1918 Model T Ford got me out of bed and piqued my interest.  He rebuilt old cars for extra cash and because he liked old Fords.  You see, Granddaddy had been trained as a young man in the Ford factory and spent part of his youth building Model Ts sometime in the 1920s.  That day dawned with clear skies, we were to discover whether he could get a junked Model T running after it had sat in an old barn for more than 40 years.  Granddaddy was my mom’s daddy.  She was the youngest in her family.

Get on up in the driver’s seat, Douglas, it won’t hurt ya,” Granddaddy said with that big ole grin on his face.  He was the best guy ever.  His mechanical and construction skills were the best in Morehouse Parish, and I was his grandson.  Everyone knew him and his excellent reputation; by extension, I was also looked up to with respect.  Although, at the time of my youth, I did not understand this.  He was also physically strong and mentally sharp.  So it was that no one ever underestimated his capabilities.  He was still the most competent man with only a sixth-grade education.  Sitting in the driver’s seat, looking down, there were no floorboards in this Model T, and the wooden floor had rotted away long ago, a common problem.  Granddaddy was finishing up properly adjusting the single-barrel carburetor.  Earlier, he installed four pistons.  The secret to getting these old Fords running was installing aluminum pistons in this four-cylinder car.  He told me factory T-Models had cast iron pistons that meant it emitted a chug-chug-chug rumble, the whole car shaking as it chugged down the road.  Aluminum pistons smoothed out the ride considerably.

By early afternoon, Granddaddy had fixed enough of the car that it was ready for a ride; of course, it was on his property.  The car was not road-legal just yet.  “Douglas, you go ahead and drive.”  “Hey, Granddaddy,” I said, “there’s three pedals on the floor and two blinkers” (one for spark timing, the other a throttle).  This Model T was a beast!  It was complicated and too much for me, a youngster of about 12 or 13 years of age.  I learned a lot about old Model Ts that day, but more about my Granddaddy.  For example, I learned that many of his mechanical skills came from owning a gas station and repair shop in town for decades, although he had been formally trained in the Ford factory to build the original T-Model.  That day, I saw him lift a modern tire and rim off the ground by himself without breaking a sweat.  It weighed at least 200 pounds.  I stared at him, mouth wide open; the tire was almost bigger than me.  Later, he would say, “Hey Douglas, look at this arm muscle,” pointing to his right arm.  Granddaddy lifted me off the ground without any trouble; that was fun.  I laughed.  The little village of Bonita was lucky to have him and his family.  I was lucky to have him as my grandfather.

A few years later, my brother Philip bought an old Indian Motorcycle.  And I mean old, probably from around 1940 or thereabouts.  It didn’t run, so he made a big mistake by taking the machine apart, down to the tiny springs and gears of the transmission.  The motorcycle parts were randomly jumbled up in a cardboard box.  My grandfather put the motorcycle back together without instructions and got it running; only a miracle could explain how he did it.  I was the first to ride it, and this time, I went on the highway and back roads without tags or registration and with a loud muffler.  Wearing an old motorcycle leather helmet, I got away with illegal riding.  That was a really fine machine.  A few years later, Granddaddy helped me rebuild the 289 cubic engine in my 1965 Mustang.  My mom’s parents, Granddaddy and Bigmama, were generous folks, and we all loved being at their home.

Repairing and upgrading that T-Model Ford was like nothing I’d ever seen since.  But it was my Granddaddy who showed me so much about himself and his willingness to share with me how he thinks, what his beliefs were, his intense love of Bigmama and family, how he pictures machinery in his head and repairing them, his mentoring young men in his church, ways of solving moral dilemmas, and his thoughts on what he believed were the greatest passages of the Bible, and what being a good man was about.  We talked often.  And that was the greatest treasure and adventure I could ever get from anyone.

—————

Please read my books:

  1. “55 Rules for a Good Life,” on Amazon (link here).
  2. “Our Longest Year in Iraq,” on Amazon (link here).
Author: Douglas R. Satterfield

Hello. I provide one article every day. My writings are influenced by great thinkers such as Friedrich Nietzsche, Karl Jung, Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn, Jean Piaget, Erich Neumann, and Jordan Peterson, whose insight and brilliance have gotten millions worldwide to think about improving ourselves. Thank you for reading my blog.

32 thoughts on “Letters to My Granddaughter, No. 36

  1. Patriot Wife

    This is the best series that I’ve read. Please keep these “letters” coming, Gen. Satterfield. They say alot about you and about our culture and what makes us stronger.

    Reply
  2. Eddie Gilliam

    Excellent job my friend. I had the pleasure to hear my Wayne II and his sister Shelby responds to this question, Who is your hero? They both did not say a favorite singer or actress, athlete. They said their DAD ” Wayne Gilliam ” was. The key was his being there for them when needed. Parents can your kids say the same thing if asked. Don’t be ashamed if not, it means you have to establish a strong relationship with your kids. Kids see you as by how much time you spend with them . The Bible says teach your children to respect and honor God and others.

    Reply
  3. Eddie Gilliam

    Excellent article my friend. Kids learning from their grandparents are life lessons that’s so awesome. Girls learning how to cook, boys learning how to fish, work in the field, work on automobiles, build things. Proverbs speaks of teaching the youth a child while they are young when they get older not depart. This from living in relationships with God and man.

    Reply
    1. Wendy Holmes

      Got that right JT. We are now at 36. How many letters will he publish? Will these be turned into a book? I know I would love to read more of these because they are a throwback (no disrespect meant) to the “olden days” when men were men and women were women and boys were boys. Let us never forget those times and how it made a huge difference in the success of Gen. Satterfield and the great leaders of our nation. Sir, hang in there and give us more letters to your granddaughter.

      Reply
  4. Wesley Brown

    THE BEST TREASURE EVER ….
    Repairing and upgrading that T-Model Ford was like nothing I’d ever seen since. But it was my Granddaddy who showed me so much about himself and his willingness to share with me how he thinks, what his beliefs were, his intense love of Bigmama and family, how he pictures machinery in his head and repairing them, his mentoring young men in his church, ways of solving moral dilemmas, and his thoughts on what he believed were the greatest passages of the Bible, and what being a good man was about. We talked often. And that was the greatest treasure and adventure I could ever get from anyone.

    Reply
  5. Tracey Brockman

    Now, number 36 is in the bag and already I’m ready for the next letter to your granddaughter, Gen. Satterfield. I don’t know how you do it but you continue to “pique” my interest. Thank you!

    Reply
  6. Rev. Michael Cain

    “The rain was coming down hard. The night was hot. For that reason, I was allowed to sleep in Bigmama’s twin bed on the first floor, next to an open window; only the screen kept out the night air. An old, oscillating fan blew a breeze over me; occasionally, a spit of rain would come through the window, catch in the fan and blow it on me. That morning, I woke to the smell of frying bacon, handmade biscuits, and grease-fried eggs.” – great intro para to this letter. This is why I come to this personal blog of Gen. Satterfield, to read things like this and improve myself. Please continue your series and we celebrate at #100. Praying for you and your granddaughter and other grandchildren too. 🙏

    Reply
      1. Kenny Foster

        We are all fortunate and I think that is what Rev. Cain is writing about, not so much ‘priviledge.’ Good fortune for Gen. Satterfield and his family. Oh be sure to get a copy of his book “55 rules for a good life” so you can learn more about how this applies to being good, good in the moral sense.

        Reply
        1. The Toad

          He He He Heeeee. Thanks all. And, just a note that I had a great Veterans Day for 2023. So many vets out and shaking hands and patting each other on the back. Wonderful, just wonderful.

          Reply
  7. Winston

    Indeed, Gen. Satterfield, you were privledged in many ways having such wonderful grandparents and now you are passing along their personality good points to your granddaughter.

    Reply
  8. North of Austin

    Love this letter.
    Love this series of letters.
    Love for your granddaughter.

    Reply
      1. Veronica Stillman

        Repairing and upgrading that T-Model Ford was like nothing I’d ever seen since. But it was my Granddaddy who showed me so much about himself and his willingness to share with me how he thinks, what his beliefs were, his intense love of Bigmama and family, how he pictures machinery in his head and repairing them, his mentoring young men in his church, ways of solving moral dilemmas, and his thoughts on what he believed were the greatest passages of the Bible, and what being a good man was about. We talked often. And that was the greatest treasure and adventure I could ever get from anyone. —– Gen. Satterfield at his very best.

        Reply
  9. mainer

    Thank you, General Satterfield for this series and letting us know about those things that helped make you who you are and how they influenced you for the years as an adult.

    Reply
    1. Janice Williamson

      Hi Mainer, that’s why I keep coming back to this blog by Gen. Satterfield. Plenty of material. Like others have suggested, maybe Gen. S is considering making much of this into a book in the future. Let us hope that it comes out in time for Christmas, but so far, I don’t think there is enough here to make that happen. Please Gen. S, let us know so we can buy the book, and I’m even willing to pre-order it on Amazon or wherever you have it. Keep this series going. I love it too.

      Reply
  10. Forrest Gump

    Smashed that one out of the park, Gen. Satterfield….. thank you for another great letter to your granddaughter. This is becoming a wonderful addition to your blog and I’m enjoying each and every letter. I look forward to your future book.

    Reply
    1. Julia

      Forrest, you’re right of course and I hope his book comes out sooner rather than latter. I haven’t heard anything yet concrete about the book or that Gen. S. actually confirms a book in the future. ❤

      Reply
      1. Tom Bushmaster

        There is plenty of material, not in these letters that will help fill a book and make it interesting.

        Reply
    2. Harold M. Smith II

      Thanks Forrest for writing what we are all thinking. We are now on Letter No. 36. WONDERFUL. SMASHING.

      Reply

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.