Fate and Big Jake - THE BATES FAMILY

THE BATES FAMILY

Fate and Big Jake - A Son’s Story Written by Richard Bates

First let me say that I am nothing close to being a professional writer but I have a lot of good memories and some are just too good not to share. On the advice of my Wife, I changed the names of my friends in this story, but kept mine and Dad’s real. I don’t think I will sue myself. Anyway, I hope you get a chuckle when you give this a read. This story involves my Father, Melton LaFayette Bates (known as Fate to his family and friends), and Big Jake, who wound up being a friend of mine in his later years. Both have now sadly passed away but their memories live on with all who cared about them.
Dad teaching me to stand up for myself when I was young
I guess the best way to start this story is to go back to when I was just a youngster probably no more than 8 to 10 years old. I was having a little trouble at school with another student and he was how should I say “getting the best of me”. My Dad had strong opinions on this matter. He told me that there was no shame in getting beat but the real trick is to not let it happen too often. He never wanted any of his kids to go looking for trouble but he would have been very disappointed if he ever found that one of us didn’t defend ourself or defend a brother or sister if necessary.
Little Jake and Dad fighting
That’s when he told me his version of the first fight he almost lost. According to Dad he was a boy just about my age and was having trouble with a boy down the road. They seemed to be right on the edge of each other’s patience most of the time, if you get my drift. Well one day walking home from school on this long red dirt road they both frequented they went to fighting, Dad didn’t remember the reason for the fight at the time, and it seems this boy was just a little bit stronger and a little bit more familiar with the scuffle than Dad was. Not knowing what to do and almost out of ideas my Dad told me he did something I will never forget. He bit part of this boy’s ear off! Well, you can imagine after hearing my Dad tell me this I had to know more. I was out of luck on that point, all he basically said was that it was either get beat up worse than he ever had been or find some way to get the boy to leave him alone. Well that did the trick to say it mildly. The boy ran down the dirt road hollering and crying. Dad never elaborated with any more details then or the years afterward but I learned a very valuable fact my Dad felt important for me to learn. Do what you have to do and don’t mess around, when you make a decision go all out.
Meeting Big Jake the first time
Now that that chapter has been told let me get to rest of the story. It all started one Saturday afternoon in Alazan, Texas. It was late fall and I was staying the weekend visiting my friend GMan at his little camp house in the woods. I found myself in need of some firewood so I asked our mutual friend Dodger if he could help me get some cut and brought back to the camp house. Now Dodger had a big bad bright red 4-wheel drive Dodge Truck. I knew that there would be no chance we would get down in that bottom and not be able to get out. Boy, was I wrong about that.
Dodger and I both being of sound mind at the time, keeping in mind this is my version of this story and I will stick to it no matter what, decided that going out to the bottom for wood every couple of weeks was getting old so the thing to do was to get a terrific amount just every once in a while. That being said we loaded that truck up to the gills with firewood. We sat back for a minute admiring our work and thinking how smart we were to accomplish this mighty feat in just one afternoon. After drinking some nice, cool spring water we had found from a natural cooler conveniently packed with ice we decided to head back to camp. We knew immediately after hearing that awful sound that a truck makes when it has given up all will to live, we had sunk the truck, tires, and axles all the way down deep, deep in the backwoods bottom mud. The bowels of the bottom if you will.
Now I had been stuck many times in my trucks over the years. Mine were never 4-wheel drive and I was always going places I shouldn’t so I had become quite the com-a-long aficionado. Having broke the cables on many com-a-longs in the past I put it upon myself to build the toughest, biggest, most rugged com-a-long from scratch and I did. I had actually lifted the back tires of one of my trucks completely up off the ground one time being stuck in a ditch. I was very proud of this feat and also very proud of this homemade com-a-long.
After seeing our predicament with the sunken Dodge, I told Dodger not to worry, we would walk back to camp, get the beast and some chain and then be back before suppertime. Well, sadly, hours later all the gears were stripped bare on the beast and it was laying there just as defeated as Dodger and I were. By now it was dark and we knew that we had to make THE CALL. You know that call. It’s the call that your best buddy says afterwards “this better be the last time you ever call me for something like this ever again!” We couldn’t figure out any possible scenario that our close childhood friend GMan would believe so we just told him to come on out to the camp. We could have a few laughs and drink some nice cold spring water, at our expense of course. We thought to ourselves that if GMan would just come out we could somehow get him to help us figure out what to do.
Upon arrival GMan took one look at us and immediately knew that both Dodger and I had partaken a little too much of that natural cold spring water I referenced earlier. He knew what to do immediately, which was our plan all along. GMan would call up his good friend Big Jake. Big Jake owned his own wrecker company and GMan thought for a few glasses of spring water he could talk Big Jake into giving us a hand.
Big Jake towing us out of the woods
Well Big Jake showed up and saved the day. Now this was no easy feat. He not only had to get that big wrecker down in the bottom but unstick an impossibly stuck truck. How did he do it? More to come.
Amazing coincidence that you never would think could happen with me getting to know Big Jake so many years later after my Dad and Big Jake’s childhood encounter.
More Chapters coming:
Later shooting skeet in a goat weed field with Big Jake, GMan, and Dodger
Big Jake’s knowledge of my Family & the rowdy bunch of Bates Brothers and a little moonshining
Uncle Bosi pitching and Big Jake catching and Big Jake telling his side of the fight story