I have many early memories of Kurt and Alice, a black couple on the farm at Crittenden. Kurt was blind and did major babysitting duty
with me in my early years. I can still hear him say, “Jack, where are you?” while I played under their porch. He was firm in his commands
for me to return if I strayed too far from him and would call Alice if I did not answer. Alice had a heart as big as her lap which as I recall was monstrous and soft. She was probably over two hundred pounds. She could put most chefs to shame with her garden vegetables and
fried chicken. Living with them was Dick, a black man that worked the farm. I do not remember him well but I recall a story about him that my father told. Dick and a mountaineer from the other farm at Verona were talking about a wild cat that could be heard at night on the farm. Mr. Brewster said to Dick, “We should go hunting for that cat.” Dick replied that from the sound of it he did not want to get near it. Mr. Brewster replied, “Dick, it won’t hurt you unless it is mad or hungry.” Dick then said, “How do I know whether it is mad or hungry?”