Vince Meechum slicked back his thinning blond hair and re-set his new hat for the second time in as many minutes. It had been bought just the day before out of necessity, when his grimy, brown felt had been half-eaten by his son Rodley’s cow pony. “Bent down to drive a nail in his shoe and he plucked it right off my head!” he told his wife, Ada. “That damn hat’s been with me for fifteen years, damnit.”
“Ever since our wedding day, when you said, “It’ll stand for our whole new life!”
Vince smiled to himself, remembering all the blessings the years had brought, from Ada’s willingness to share a bed with a saddle bum like himself, to the birth of Taylor in 1879 and Rodley the following year. He considered providing for them his life’s best achievement.
