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What would you think about a guy who taught his dog to walk a picket fence? Or, who gave a little farm girl a fresh pig tail tied with a red ribbon for Christmas? Or who fed whiskey to a rooster to see what it would do? I’ll tell you what I thought of him: He was a wonderful human being. His name was James Preston Walters, but everybody I knew called him J.P.
For some period of time, he worked for my father on the county highways. Dad thought very highly of the people who worked for him, and spoke of them often. But, there was no question that J.P. was someone special. Not just to my father, but to everyone who knew him.
He smiled a lot and always seemed to be able to find something amusing in just about everything he came in contact with. He worked hard, and took pride in his work. He was one of those people who could do a lot of different things. For some years, he worked for Dr. Krebser, on his farm. Everyone liked him, and enjoyed knowing him and being his friend. If you knew him, you wanted to be his friend.
J.P. was a strong man. Once, when he was at the house with my father, I was taking a sturdy, wooden box apart, to use the boards for something else.
I had my Dad’s hammer, and I didn’t have the strength to pry apart two of the boards. J.P. took the hammer, wedged the claws between the two
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