Jamie Gardner
Herbert Hunter, the man, the myth, the legend
(Editor’s note: I considered Herbert Hunter to be a dear friend. Herbert’s son, Chuck, and I were the same age. Chuck and I basically grew up together in the Midway Baptist community and I got to know Herbert through this relationship. I will always remember Herbert’s voice every time we encountered each other, “Son, how you doing?” This was not an insincere question. Herbert always took time to find out how I was doing and ask me questions about my family and etc. Chuck wrote the following about his Dad a few days back and brought it by the newspaper for consideration. I am honored to share my space this week with Chuck. To Chuck, Herb, Chanda and the entire family, know that you are in my thoughts and prayers.)
By Chuck Hunter
Herbert Hunter, aka Daddy to me, along with so many others than just my brother and sister. He was a father figure to so many people in his infinite community of family and friends. At the funeral, there were so many people that hugged my neck and shook my hand that said Herbert was like a father to them and he would be missed. I thought I was hurting. I could see in their eyes and expressions they lost a father too. I had no problem believing them, because I knew I had the best father out there and it made me feel proud my father treated people like they were his own. There were no strangers to Herbert Hunter.
I got a story to tell you that I used to laugh about it every time I thought about it. I had just returned home from the Navy and Daddy and me had about 5 years of fishing to catch up on. We had a pond that had a few catfish, bream and bass in it over at the garden field behind where the old house used to be. Daddy kept an old aluminum boat pulled up on the bank and that’s what we were intending to use. Daddy grabbed his pole and cricket box while I slid the boat down closer to the edge of the water for him to get in. I held the boat steady on the front while he stepped in and passed me to go to the back of the boat. I don’t know why it happened, but I guess I pushed off the bank just a little too soon. All of a sudden I felt and heard a huge thud like something dropped out of the sky into the boat. When I looked up, Daddy was sitting on the floor of the boat, cricket box smashed under him, crickets everywhere, and his pole floating off in the water. I was in a little bit of a hurry and didn’t give him time to sit down. I asked him if he was alright while at the same time trying my absolute best to hold back my laughter. I even turned my head away hoping Daddy wouldn’t see me trying not to laugh.
He finally gave me some relief and said these exact words, “Go ahead and laugh son; was you trying to push off a battle ship?”
For the complete column pick up your copy of The Baxley News-Banner on newsstands today or CLICK HERE to Subscribe.
Herbert Hunter, aka Daddy to me, along with so many others than just my brother and sister. He was a father figure to so many people in his infinite community of family and friends. At the funeral, there were so many people that hugged my neck and shook my hand that said Herbert was like a father to them and he would be missed. I thought I was hurting. I could see in their eyes and expressions they lost a father too. I had no problem believing them, because I knew I had the best father out there and it made me feel proud my father treated people like they were his own. There were no strangers to Herbert Hunter.
I got a story to tell you that I used to laugh about it every time I thought about it. I had just returned home from the Navy and Daddy and me had about 5 years of fishing to catch up on. We had a pond that had a few catfish, bream and bass in it over at the garden field behind where the old house used to be. Daddy kept an old aluminum boat pulled up on the bank and that’s what we were intending to use. Daddy grabbed his pole and cricket box while I slid the boat down closer to the edge of the water for him to get in. I held the boat steady on the front while he stepped in and passed me to go to the back of the boat. I don’t know why it happened, but I guess I pushed off the bank just a little too soon. All of a sudden I felt and heard a huge thud like something dropped out of the sky into the boat. When I looked up, Daddy was sitting on the floor of the boat, cricket box smashed under him, crickets everywhere, and his pole floating off in the water. I was in a little bit of a hurry and didn’t give him time to sit down. I asked him if he was alright while at the same time trying my absolute best to hold back my laughter. I even turned my head away hoping Daddy wouldn’t see me trying not to laugh.
He finally gave me some relief and said these exact words, “Go ahead and laugh son; was you trying to push off a battle ship?”
For the complete column pick up your copy of The Baxley News-Banner on newsstands today or CLICK HERE to Subscribe.
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