Ballard Farmer Strong

Friday, 5 January 2007, 4:30 pm

It’s hot and sprinkling (thank goodness!)

Michelle Shocked, one of America’s brilliant singers and musicians once said,

“The secret of a long life is knowing when it's time to go.” (thanks Ed for that reminder)

Yesterday my Grandpa decided it was his time. From what I am told he died peacefully in the Nursing Home with my dad at his side.

As I am here in Australia, I will not make the funeral. Therefore, I will tell you all a little about his life (at least the way I remember the stories)- cause his life, in many ways shaped part of my life.

He was born in 1919 around the small town of Iredell, Texas to his mother Dora and father Ballard “Badge”. (Population today = 306) His full name was Ballard Farmer Strong. His very interesting name comes from a long standing family tradition for the male which followed this formula:

First Name= Ballard

Second Name= Mother’s Maiden Name

Last Name= Strong

I was supposed to be a boy. My name was going to be Ballard Coker Strong. However, I popped out a girl- the last of 4 girls in my generation, thus ending the male dominated naming tradition. My mother named me after her favorite doll- Sarah Beth. My father bought a male dog, who was immediately named “B.C.”-short for Ballard Coker.

My grandfather was an only child. During school, he was the water-boy for the football team, as he was a little chunk. As long as he could walk, he was sneaking any piece of cake, pie or chocolate out of any and every kitchen he could sneak into. His parents owned a general store in Walnut Springs. In the school band he played the saxophone. The sax was his gift and talent, He never learned to read a lick of music and his ears were more than keen for the notes of Western Swing. As you can imagine, my appreciation for country music and dancing began at an early age. He loved Bob Wills and I loved to here him play “Milk Cow Blues” and “Corina, Corina”.

He lived in a house on the ranch that my great-great grandfather bought in pieces over time to form a beautiful 1500 acres in the rolling hills of Texas ranching and farming. My sister and I grew up fishing and hunting armadillos on the ranch and currently my father is clearing off all of the water sucking, ugly cedar trees. He tells me that restoration of the ranch house is soon to come, as well.

My grandfather met and married my grandmother, Hazel at the ripe age of 16ish. Together they made 2 babies. First was my aunt, Jan. Second born was my father Ballard Terrell, otherwise known as Bud.

My grandfather earned money in a few ways. He was a cattle rancher and land owner, where he was known as B.F. He was a pipe-liner, where he was known as Snookie. He was a Saxophone player where he was known, ironically as Tiny. He also made a go of selling used cars out of his front lawn where the county officers called him- Trouble. Without a license to sell or a tax file for his little business, the car selling proved to be a little more trouble than anything. In all honesty, he loved the business of making money, saving money and hiding money.

Ultimately, my grandparents settled permanently in Iredell where father and son built houses next door to one another. My front door was approximately 80 yards from Nanny and Papa’s front door. From here, he watched his 4 granddaughters and 5 great-grand kids grow, as we all lived within a 15 mile radius of one another. My father was also a cattle rancher and pipe-liner and they are in many ways an example of the old cliché “like father, like son”.

As a youngster, I spent a lot of time with my grandfather. I tagged along to music nights in barns, dances in the park, catfish fries at the VFW, and 4-wheeler drives to help deliver a half-born calf down in the cattle pens. As a teenager, I spent a lot of time sneaking around my grandfather. I reckon he had a better view of my room and car from his house, because he always knew when I had come home late or was speeding on the highway before my parents found out. My boyfriends seemed to have a hard earned respect for him as well, after he would catch them knocking on my window at night. If I only knew, back then, the stories I now know about his extracurricular activities I could have gotten away with a few more teenage scandals. He was quite the ladies man. Once again, “like father, like son” rings true.

My father was gone for most of my life between the ages of 11-18 because life as a pipe-liner isn’t a life that let’s you plant roots. Therefore, my grandpa helped fill his shoes. He would pick on me for biting my fingernails, and turn around and bite all of his off. He would make sure that my car was up to date on oil changes and that my speeding tickets were paid on time. He taught me to change a tire. He took me dancing. He watched every basketball game I ever played. He made me smile and he made me cry cause he was always next door.

He was an entertaining man. He had his many faults. He had his many mistakes. He had his many smiles. He was a damn good grandpa who was loved by most people who knew him.

There is another quote from Michelle Shocked which I think he would have liked,

“Yeah, I am a hick. I am naive, and I am sincere and it's wonderfully unfashionable.”

I like this quote as well, almost as well as I liked my grandpa.

Cheers to y’all and your families. We hope you had a great holiday. I hope you too have fond memories of people who have passed, cause I think it might be those memories that keep the human spirit alive and kickin’.

Sarah