I’ve often told Penny she was raised in Mayberry, with sheriff Andy as her father- case in point; While Penny and I were delivering papers we had occasion to stop and speak with many people on our route, always the conversation comes ‘round to who you are, and where you’re from. Now around here you identify yourself by who your parents are, then who your siblings are, and then extended family. “Remember who you are, and where you come from” is a common saying around here, and in Penny’s family. Family reputations exist, and dropping the name Kimber Christensen has opened many doors for Penny and me both professionally and personally. We were in the middle of pounding a post into the cement that is “dirt” in Weston, when an old man wondered out of his house to see what the fuss was about – inevitably “Penny is Kimber Christensen’s daughter...” came out, “Oh! well I’ve got the damnedest story to tell you about him….” Penny and I prepared ourselves for another story about Kimber bringing a drunk teen home to his parents, presenting the kid at the door with a “Here, you take care of this” and a shove. Or maybe the time he pulled you over for drunk driving, and then gave you a ride home and no ticket. We’d heard what a great sheriff he was, but this story has turned out to be my favorite. “We were havin’ a Weston town party and everyone was in the park, when this biker gang came rumbling through town. “ (Now at this point I must interject a little information. Weston at this time had all of 150 people, half of whom were kids. And 99% of the town was practicing LDS. In other words, a large group of friendly, non-violent people were bar-b-queuing in the park, playing with their kids.) The bikers saw the party and stopped. Things became tense and the law was called. Being Weston, the sheriff was dispatched, and Kimber showed up by himself. “Now the bikers had been drinking, and when they saw Kimber was by himself, they really started acting up. I figured things were going to go from bad to worse, when Kimber walks up to me, leans over, and says in my ear, “Here, hold on to this for me”, and hands me his GUN! (At that time I didn’t know the man, but by God I was impressed!) Then he turns around and walks over to the biggest biker in the group and says something in HIS ear, and then returned for his gun and…left. Well it was the oddest thing, those bikers milled around for all of five minutes before they all just got on their bikes and left.” “What did he tell them?” we asked “No one ever knew. Damnedest thing I ever saw. And him handing his gun to a complete stranger to take care of…” he shook his head, a crooked smile across his face. “Damnedest thing….”
Posted on: Fri, 04 Apr 2014 01:43:03 +0000
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