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Genealogy stuff has been coming in from different relatives. This is a scan I was recently able to do of one of the oldest known photos of this good looking guy. It’s a tin type from before paper was used for photos. Because tin types were shot right onto the metal, I don’t think copies could be made because there were never any negatives. It’s certainly never been on the Internet before. He’s the most common link between the greatest number of us. By that I mean no matter what your last name is now, if you are reading here and have any of our Texas Whipple lineage on either your mother or father’s side… then like to many, Orva Lester Whipple is almost certainly a grandfather to you (in that I include grandfather, great grandfather or great great grandfather). From Kevin Smith to Leanne Davis to Terry Dyke to Cal Hill …there’s a long, long mile long list. If that genealogical shoe fits you then you should be interested in him because good old Orva’s decision to settle in Texas set part of the foundation for your life. There’s no bio info on him on the net. I’d like to learn more about him, his wife Sabra and their children and make it available. Hopefully it could be a team effort.

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My long time friend Robert Gilespie played one like it at the grand opening of the Winsor Park Mall. I was walking by a Organ Store downstairs and stopped to watch and listen and this man in a loud sport coat and wide tie was filling all three levels of the mall with some really spirit boosting organ music.

I stayed for a good while with a smile on my lips and a song in my heart. This guy was really good. I looked down at the desk top name plate and it read ROBERT GILISPIE and click this was my old school chum. I could hardly believe the change in him since the last time I saw him. He lived with his father and little Sister in the Beacon Hill District around Cincinnati and Friedricksburg Road area in just part of a house and rode a bicycle when everybody else was driving.

We had a good long talk and he let me sit and play the keys he pointed to for ” O’ Danny Boy” and I sounded pretty decent. I wanted one then but just did not do it. I told him that someday I will. I wish I had whatever the cost.

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I believe this is Peggy because I’ve seen other photos of her in this car. You can barely see her so it’s hard to tell. But what this is is a great portrait of 505 Rigsby. The two thin, saplings near the road are the pecan trees that my Grandfather told me were planted in honor of his brother Henry Whipple. Granny would have been furious at Uncle Bill if she had caught him hanging me by my feet out of those upper windows in 1959. But that didn’t happen for another 25 years and during those episodes, which I enjoyed, I remember I could almost reach out to those pecan trees from the second story because by then they were 30 feet tall and shaded the whole house.

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Somedays Gizmodo gets it so right.

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And that answer is, there isn’t any!

If Webster had had a Google account they would have found this out many long years ago. The best way to explain it and get some sense out of it is they are both Polish but think radically different. A Bohemian is to a Pollock as a Gypsy is to an Anglo. They are the same but, not the same when they are thinking.

What seems to throw one’s thinking off is you would normally think a Bohemian is from Bohemia and there is no such place. And a Pollock is slang for any person from Poland. Unless, of course, he comes from a small Texas Polish community just North of Karnes City in South Central Texas called Pana Maria which will be my story for tonight.

The Bodowski family settled on Highway 181 and built the Bodowski General Store and a large Catholic Church with their home right next door and owned many acres of pasture which became populated with little 4H Bordowski’s who made up a big hunk of the Falls City School district.

B.J. Bordowski was the football hero of my era and his early marraige to “Sissy” a very cute little blond headed cheerleader and soon had a young son named Douglas.

I met them in about 1953 when they became our neighbor ocupying the garage apartment next door
to 505 Rigsby where we lived at the time. They both worked at Mission Provision Meat Processing Co. and became a source of really good special priced meat for our family delivered.

Somehow during the next 2 years between hunting, football games, trips to Kenedy, building engines in the back yard, and erasing the beer rash from his 1941 Ford’s fenders we became good friends.

I was invited to go rabbit hunting Saturday evening and dove hunting Sunday morning and then rabbit hunting again Sunday evening. Since I only had a 22 rifle it would be hard for me to compete on the doves, but , I wasn’t worried that I wouldn’t do well.

The family was run kinda like the godfather system of approval by Mr. Bodowsky. . . .Sir! Everything had to be approved by the Father who did in fact resemble the Godfather. All the boys begin prompting me as to what to say ans not to say and the were taking me to his office (a little beer joint down the street with a domino table in the back room and they all waited outside except for B.J. who was to introduce me.

B.J. said, he is going to buy you a beer “Don’t say no” and then he is going to ask you to play a game of dominos, “Don’t beat him.”so I did exactly what he said and sure emough I was invited to eat Sunday dinner at his house.

When I got there there were several young ladies sitting across from me and seeing that I got everythihg I wanted and that was the first time the thought hit me. Have I been captured? and I was trying not to bring any attention to this embarrassing thought when one of the girls reached over the table and started cutting up my meat. About that time one od the Bordowsky boys said,

“Do you know what that means?”

Then came the awes an ahs from the rest. then silence.
Then B. J. said,” It means, He can now eat his meat!
When I stopped at the Bordowski store yesterday morning to ask about B.J. and family. I talked with Aubrey Bordowski who now runs the store and he told me B.J. had died about 4 years ago, shortly after
“Sissy” died. And son Douglas died too, and all buried together up on the hill.
Before I left I ask him if there was anyone left and he said, “no, He was the only one left.
Then I ask him if he remembered me and he said, “yes, I remember you and that dinner, that was vivian that cut your meat, she cooked it, and didn’t want you to think she was a poor cook.”

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MikroKopter – HexaKopter from Holger Buss on Vimeo.

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Each song had an interesting story by it’s writer and I wanted to share with the rest of the world and someday you my hear the rest of the stories.

They are different and you may grow to like them once you get use to them and think out the the message they bring.
I did!

Hector The Collectior

Bra

Heaven

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I have some special records tucked away in hiding places for the ones i frequent most and I think ole “What’s his face” is the most played and enjoyed over and over a little better each time. They are all 5 star rated. I think everything he did was 5 star! So I’m not the only one!
Try the “Roger Miller” play list as far as it still turning your crank or plugs your nickel! You may be there for a while. Enjoy!

King of the Road

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This was a time that no one could forget. I haven’t.
click here!

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Click here to see my blog! I like being a mess, it’s who I am

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It’s tomorrow night. PLEASE come help us celebrate. Lots of food, lots of music, lots of TNMC.

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The one that was really different was Chevrolet’s Corvair. Air cooled, Rear engine, turbocharged, and voted on by the people that really knew it absolutely as the world’s best Rally car EVER BUILT! Because handling was it’s number 1 quality and any idiot could drive and park it because they could see to do it! and it had the shortest turning radius af any american built automobile.

The next best rally car came out 15 years later as the 007 model Grimlin. Take a look!

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Are you sure you are hitting the right notes?

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