BIO: Finley Huddleston, 1977, Whitley Co. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Submitted by Mary Lou Hudson, Email Registry ID# Date: 6 Nov 2003 - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - ************************************************************************ USGENWEB ARCHIVES NOTICE: These electronic pages may NOT be reproduced in any format for profit or presentation by any other organization or persons. Persons or organizations desiring to use this material, must obtain the written consent of the contributor, or the legal representative of the submitter, and contact the listed USGenWeb archivist with proof of this consent. The submitter has given permission to the USGenWeb Archives to store the file permanently for free access. http://www.usgwarchives.net *********************************************************************** The Whitley Republican, Williamsburg, KY - March 24, 1977 heads or tales by Gene Siler, Sr. A friend named Finley He was a one-legged man who had lost the other leg working in the coal mines many many years ago. So he used a makeshift leg made out of iron and fixed so his left knee would rest on a cushion support. The upper leg was strapped around an iron extension of the artificial limb and the whole thing seemed to make a reasonably good substitute for the missing leg. His name was Finley Huddleston, a very good name, but I much disliked hearing him called Pegleg or Peg, which is a common and cruel nickname for a person with this handicap. Now Finley usually hunted me up when he would come to town on Saturdays. "Well, Finley, what do you need today?" I never embarrassed him by forcing him to beg me for anything at any time. I was one jump ahead of him. "A twist of tobacco would suit me just fine". "You bet your life I've got a quarter for your twist of tobacco. "It's like this, Finley. Some of these big fellows around Williamsburg can get in their cars and roll down to Florida to play golf and have fun. You can't do that. You just get your recreation from a twist of tobacco and I'm all for it. As long as you live, I will buy you a twist when you need it from me." And I did this for Finley until rigor mortis took over his frail body some years later. Miss Anna Mae Boyd was my secretary and she was always kind to Finley and treated him with courtesy and respect. Once he told me "the lady who works for you is not ashamed to speak to me on the street or just anywhere. She is nice to me. "Of course she is not ashamed to speak to you, Finley. I wouldn't want her to work for me if she wasn't nice to you." There came a day when Finley brought a woman to me on the street and introduced her as "the widder he was going to marry soon." They were both shy on this subject, but I told them it sounded like a good idea and hoped they would be happy in their marriage. About a couple of weeks later, Finley came in and wanted me to write a letter to the widder for him. I wrote the letter and told her, "I have missed you something awful and hope to see you soon." "And now Finley you want me to tell her you love her." "Do you think I ort to tell her that?" "Of course, of course," Then I added another line to what I had written to the widder. "And I love you very much." Later Finley told me she liked that letter. From time to time I asked him about the widder. Then one day he told me she "took down sick". Next time I inquired about Finley's lady friend, she had died. It was a shattered, unfulfilled romance. "Full many a flower is born to blush unseen and waste it sweetness on the desert air." Finley's romance was born to blush unseen. It was not meant to be I suppose. I kept missing Finley on Saturdays in town. Finally I saw his son and inquired about Finley. "Well, Pa died some time ago. We had his funeral and buried him." "I wish I had known. I would have attended his funeral. He was my friend." "Shore. I knowed he was. He talked about and said you had been a good friend to him." Finley Huddleston, a one-legged coal miner who was my friend. And now the Lord will supply all his needs.