It’s kind of weird to describe the way I’ve felt here lately, on one hand I’ve been looking forward to going to an estate sale, but on the other hand I’ve been absolutely dreading it. Smokey Waller was such a good hearted person. He was always helping out in the community, he even helped me and my wife several years ago. Smokey passed away a while back, he had cancer.
Smokey was an ag teacher and I knew him from all of the livestock shows we attended. He was always laughing and joking with pretty much anyone that walked by. I don’t think he ever met a stranger.
Several years ago when I was in the legislature my wife worked at a college. The college president got mad at me for a bill I filed that would have prevented all colleges in the state from raising college tuition. So to make a long story short the college president tried to fire my wife to get even with me.
Smokey Waller and about thirty other people showed up to the board of regents meeting to protest the college president’s actions. They didn’t fire my wife that day, thanks to Smokey and some others.
When I saw the flyer for Smokey’s estate sale I knew I had to go. I wanted to buy something that was Smokey’s. He drove about fifty miles to stand up for my wife that day. It’s not very often in life that someone will drive fifty miles to stand up for someone they aren’t related too, but Smokey did.
On one hand I hated that his stuff was being sold, and on the other I knew I had to have something, that when I look at it, I think of Smokey.
Towards the end of the auction they sold several guns. I bought an old side cock muzzleloader for sixty bucks. It’s going to hang in my living room, and every time I look at it I will think of Smokey.
Cancer sucks, it took my mom and Smokey, I feel robbed.
James Lockhart lives near the Kiamichi mountains in southeast Oklahoma. He writes cowboy stories and fools with cows and horses.
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