A visit to the "Greats".....

Mom’s family was a combination of Johnson and Wallis.  The Wallis kin came from the Tennessee hills, moving to Indian Territory in what is now Boone County, Arkansas in the mid 1800’s.   The Wallis’s homesteaded on top of Boat Mountain, clearing the trees with a cross cut saw, hewing the logs to build the log cabins.  The cabins were pretty rough stuff, and usually started out being one room, and as the family grew and the kids got a little bigger to create the workforce needed, they would add on to the original structures.  The one room cabin would become two rooms with a dog trot space between them and sleeping lofts upstairs, big fireplaces in both rooms for heat and cooking, with an overhang across the front to form a porch.   Yes, the Wallis clan were early Ozark pioneers, growing up mighty rough, tough, hard working, fiercely independent, good and honest people.  I only saw my “Great” grandfather Wallis one time, and to tell the truth, it was pretty scary.....(Rewind back to late Fall in the year 1940)

View from the front porch….is rather chilly this morning,  Tennessee is getting down in the teens at night and that is a little unusual this early in the season, with January and February being the big freeze-up most years.  But, all the more reason to be getting into the Christmas spirit.  Sitting out front in the old red rocking chair, bundled up and my good dog Buck the Collie, with his heavy coat,  laying at my feet, the lights from the Christmas tree shining through the window of the front room behind me, watching the deer using the creek as a highway in front of me, how can I not have thoughts of good cheer?

I've been sketching, drawing and painting ever since I was making stick people on paper when I was about 4 years old.  As a kid growing up I would find myself looking at some scene and in my mind, sketching it. Sometime later, I noticed that when I did this I would actually move my finger as if I were tracing the picture.  So, I became a fantasy painter in my mind.  In High School I became the cartoonist for the Pleasant Hope school paper.   I guess, really, I became a would-be artist, before I even started singing and playing guitar at age 12.

Today, August 12^th, is Porter Wagoner’s birthday.  He had a very special impact on my life and career.  Go back with me for a visit……

“Have you got a heart…..do you have a soul…..what about your life…..is it out of control….are you alone and aching…..you don’t know what to do…..well, I’ve got a Friend for you.”  Just sitting here on the front porch of the old farm house thinking about the words of that song that I wrote some time ago.  Not thinking of it as a song, so much, as a condition of so many people.  It’s easy to enjoy a peaceful existence, sitting here of a morning, birds singing to me a beautiful lullaby, two hummingbirds feeding at the feeder Denise keeps full and hanging on the eave of the house, my old dog, Buck The Collie, sleeping at my feet after a night of being on duty to keep the deer out of the garden.   Living in the country, like we do, with the creek chuckling along just down the hill from the porch, is a wonderful blessed life, and I never take it for granted.  I believe that a thankful heart is the least we can offer to such a loving God.

Well, the Old Sun came up early this morning.  Probably couldn’t wait to shine down on my tomatoes.  I mean I got tomatoes as big as watermelons….uhh, ok, small watermelons….basketballs?....well, by golly they’re mighty big.

Well, life is good on the riverbank.  Just returned to the old farm house in Sumner County, Tennessee after three weeks on the Upper Mississippi River in Wisconsin.  Everyone that knows me knows I have a passion for fishing the streams, rivers and lakes of our great country.  In the last 50 years of traveling with my old J45 Gibson and a guitar case full of songs, I also managed to fish about every body of water in America, Canada and the Nortwest Territory.  One of my favorite times, for the past 25 years, has been my annual fishing trip to Prairie du Chien, Wisconsin and the Upper Mississippi.  From the last of June through the first week of July that is where you will find me.  This year happened to be a wet year on the river and the water kept rising all the time we were there.  Caught some fish, but not nearly as much as previous years.  But, that is the thrill of fishing....you never know what the elements will throw at you while you're on the water.  Reminds me of a tour I was making, picking and singing my little songs, in the great state of Florida in the early 70's

VIEW FROM THE  FRONT PORCH……Stan Hitchcock

“God Loves Fishermen and Fisherwomen”

Ah, April and May.  Been a beautiful Spring in Tennessee.  Sitting here looking out from the front porch of our old farm house to the creek running clear and fast on its way to the Cumberland River about 5 miles down the road here in Sumner County.  The water in the Lakes and Rivers has warmed up and the fish are biting so you don’t find me on the front porch too much this time of year, I’m usually on the water, somewhere in Tennessee or Kentucky searching for the mighty bass….smallmouth and largemouth.  Or, later on in the summer,  you can find me in Wisconsin, camping on the banks of the Upper Mississippi, and in hot pursuit of Northern Pike, Walleye and, once again, small and large mouth bass.  I just barely make it through Winter,  when it’s too cold to fish, watching the water temperature as Spring finally arrives and I can get back to the important things in life; fishing and enjoying a good bologna sandwich on fresh white bread while sitting in my boat.  I’ve got two sons, Stan Junior and Scott, that have inherited the love of fishing from me along with a couple of grandsons, Kahner and Josh, so the tradition of the Hitchcock Fishing Adventure  will be carried on long after I have gone to the Home of the Great Fisherman in Glory.