One of the most remarkable people who has left a favorable impression on me is Harold Kimbrell. I first met Harold while working for my Dad. Harold and I started working for him about the same time . From those early days one could see that Harold was a hard worker. Harold was some what older than me; maybe five years older. Harold and I hit it off from the start. I was going to college and working with Dad during the summer while we were out for the summer.
I was taking accounting in college and it was near income tax time. Harold asked me if I knew how to fill out tax forms and I told him yes. " Will you fill mine out" and I was happy to help him with his return. He was going to get $ 56.00 back and was quite happy once he got that check back from the government. Harold never told me he had never filed a tax return. Come to find out he had worked at a local filling station for 5 years and had received $75.00 cash a week. Not too long after receiving his check; one day a stranger showed up on our work site wanting to talk with Harold. He was an agent with the internal revenue service and told Harold he owed the government back taxes for 5 years . He told Harold how much he owed but I can't remember the sum. Brash, Harold stated he wasn't going to pay the back taxes and the agent said we will get it one way or another. Back then they could freeze your wages all but $12.00 a week. Harold told the agent I'll quit and go off and work some where you can't find me. Harold's uncle worked on a pipe line some where up North and Harold quit and began work some where out of state. The pipe line work paid big money to their workers. The company would hold back two weeks wages before the first payment to an employee. Harold was excited to get that first check with the big bucks. Hold on this check can't be right it's only for $24.00. Yes, Uncle Sam had found Harold and got their taxes. I can feel the disappointment that Harold must have felt at the time.
Harold later came back to work with Dad and me. Harold was a quick learner. He pick up building techniques the first time he was showed. For years Harold and I worked side by side for Dad. We always did the roofing on the houses that Dad built. Harold and I would always race to see who could get back to the starting line first. I would always lay off the roof as to how we started laying the shingles and nailing them down. I would start in the middle of the roof and strike lines every 10 inches apart and both of us would start in the middle one going right and the other going to the left. Once we reached the end of the building we would return to the middle to start again. I would always beat Harold back to the starting line no matter how hard he tried to get back first. This went on for years. I had being laying the roof off where I only had two less shingles to run than Harold. Finally after all those years Harold caught what I was doing and said, " I'm going to lay off the next roof we do." From then on he won some and some times I won.
Harold was very strong for his size. He was about 6 foot 4 inches in height and weighted around 170. He would bet people like plumbers, electricians that he could carry up 3 bundles of shingles that weighted 210 pounds at a time up the ladder to the roof. I've seen several workers lose their $5.00 when Harold pitched the 3 bundles down on the roof. Harold like to frequent the bars around Tullahoma on the weekends. Harold after some alcohol would get into fights. He won a lot of these bar room fights. One weekend while at a rough honky tonk, Joe Rico's, he got into a fight with two air force men. The owner of the bar went and locked the door and helped the airmen beat up Harold. Harold was taken to the hospital to recover from the beating.
We were building a house in Shelbyville and Harold would ride in the back of my pickup on the way back to Tullahoma. Near the bridge over Duck River just out of Shelbyville we saw a lot of ground hogs. Harold would shoot them from the moving truck with his 22 rifle. He killed several back during those days. Once while we were framing a roof Dad wanted Harold to throw the 100 foot tape down to him. Harold pitched it off the roof to Dad and it landed hard on Dad's foot and broke Dad's foot.
I had found a 1940 Ford coupe at a store in Tracy City. I didn't know how I was going to get it home. Harold said he knew where we could get a tow bar to tow the old car home. Harold would go with my brother and me to bring the car back to Tullahoma. Once at Tracy City we aired up the old tires and attached the tow bar to the bumper of my 1954 Ford convertible. The old 40 didn't have brakes and the old motor was in the trunk. We had the tow bar chained and wired with bailing wire to the convertible. I decide than I would ride in the old 40 on the way back. Every thing was going according to plans and we stopped on top of Sewanee mountain to check out the hookup before descending the 5 miles off the mountain. What was I thinking riding in that old 40. We were almost down off the mountain, probably 250 feet from the bottom, when the tow bar, chains and wire broke. I was able to steer and passed Harold with another car approaching us. You should have seen Harold eyes as I passed him and my brother Frank. After I cleared Harold and got back in front of him in the right lane before the car coming at me reached us. Harold gassed the convertible and got in front of me and begin to brake as we finally came to a stop on the side of the road. We were able to reattach the tow bar and made it safely home. I've always shivered at the through of what if the 40 came loose further up the mountain. Guess I wouldn't be writing this. We had a new guy working in the crew. He was just out of college and was the son-law to the man we were building houses. Doc Oliver wanted Dad to teach Don the building trade. He would leave his hammer on a middle 2x4 brace in the wall and if we were sheet rocking Harold would say just cover up his hammer. Don lost a lot of hammers during those days. Years later while doing a remodeling job I found one of Don's old hammers while tearing out paneling in one of the house we built.
After many years of working with Harold work got slow and Dad and I went to Clarksville to build houses. Harold went to work for a big home builder in Nashville and soon became the foremen. While Harold and his boss were at a bar one night the guy told Harold we need to ride out to where I want you to start our next house. He was leaving town on a two weeks vacation and told Harold he wanted him to start the house while he was gone. Once at the site the owner drove a wooden stake in the ground 100 feet off the road. " This is were to start the front of the house." Harold and the workers had the house frame in in no time. He noticed an old man coming around watching them build the house every day. Once back off his vacation the owner came out to the job site and looked puzzled. Harold I think you have built the house on the wrong lot. "What do you mean I've built the house on the wrong lot. I built it were you drove the wooden stake." The house was on the wrong lot, it belonged to the old man that was coming around every day. The contractor tried to swap lots with the old man but he wasn't having any thing to do with that. They did agreed to exchange lots plus the contractor paid the old man $10,000.
I have fond memories of the times Harold and I worked together. Dad had a slow pitch softball team and Harold was one of our best players. Times continued on and Harold and I grew apart raising our families and working. Harold years ago met death when he fell from the back of a pickup truck. I didn't receive the bad news until weeks later and was sad to learn of his death. His son lives in the same town I live and I hope these written memories I have will some how help Doug know some things about his Dad that he missed. Rest in peace Harold.
