The Babe in the Well
(Written 3-4-1997)
It was about 1938. Mama Sutton and Grampa Davis were building a house in Bellmead, a suburb of Waco, Texas. I remember the foundation of unpainted pine. Later the studs went up for the walls. If I remember right, it was a two-room house to begin with. Other rooms were built years later, long after Grampa Davis had left for good.
The living room had a very low ceiling; so, I suspect that Grampa Davis left before the house was completed. But, he dug a well in the front yard. It was hard work, for he had to go into the hole and somehow get the dirt out. He rigged a bucket on a rope and a pulley. I suppose he climbed a ladder to get out to empty the bucket, for it was a bit too deep to throw the dirt out.
Then, he brainstormed a better method. He took me down into the well and showed me how to fill the bucket while he stayed top-side. Then he would pull the filled bucket up and empty it and lower it back to me.
After a few loads I got really scared, fearing the full bucket would fall and hit me. I began to cry. Not because of the work, but because I didn’t want to get hurt. Also, I was afraid of the dark.
So, Grampa came down and got me out. He wasn’t just real happy that I was not much help; but, I don’t think he ever told anyone about this matter.
Epilogue: Years later that home was moved so that the well was in the back yard from then on. It was a shallow well with good water. It had a hand pump that had to be “primed” before any water could be pumped; so, a bucket of water was always available by the pump. The well was covered, so it was safe from anyone falling in.
Some people used to lower buckets into their wells. (Uncle Jim Moody’s well was 103′ to the water) and haul the water out with a crank. But, we had a hand pump.
That water was always cold and tasty.