[Granville-Hough] 21 May 2009 - 7 Jul 2005 - Dueward Hough

[Trustees for Granville W. Hough]

Dueward Franklin Hough (Recall)

The Bedpartner. Dueward did not elect to go to college, so he was with 
us as an elder brother until he married. He was ten years older than I 
and fully grown before I remember much about him. For about the last 
three years before he married, I shared a bed with him in the “boy’s” 
room. He could have slept across the hall in the north rooms, but they 
were unheated. We had a fireplace in the boy’s room, and we kept a fire 
going until bedtime. He and I shared one bed, and my three youngest 
brothers had the other bed. He was a most critical bed partner. When he 
got in bed, the springs sagged from his adult weight so that the child 
with him automatically rolled downhill onto his side. This made him mad 
as a wet hen. Finally, I solved the problem by sleeping on my stomach 
and anchoring my right arm under the mattress on the right side. Then I 
did not lose my position when he got in bed. So he tolerated me as a bed 
partner, and I learned to sleep on my stomach as a preferred position.

Corn Beer. As a teen-ager, Dueward learned to make beer and wild-grape 
wine. He generally had these operations out in the woods away from my 
father’s sight. He frequently spoke of “home brew,” which I learned 
later was a generic name for any alcoholic beverage made at home. At the 
time I thought it was something special, but the only thing I ever saw 
different was the addition of brewer’s yeast to the fermenting corn meal 
or to wild grape juice. The brewer’s yeast was passed from home to home 
as it multiplied and could be divided. In the manufacture of bourbon, 
the corn beer would be the mash stage. Anyway, Dueward became quite fond 
of corn beer, and I liked it too. I have been told he made it all his 
life. Many of the episodes people recall about Dueward were associated 
with his consumption of corn beer, sometimes the result of too much. The 
amount of alcohol must have varied greatly, but it was enough to give 
strong reactions.

I recall that a favorite place for Dueward’s beer-making operation was 
under the wild grape vines in a little valley we called the “Hollow.” 
Wild grape vines covered the trees, and underneath was a cool, damp 
shade that seemed to make wonderful corn beer. I never understood why 
until years later when I studied the properties of yeast. It happens 
that yeast, particularly fermentation yeast, occurs naturally and the 
spores are blown about, and moved by bees and other insects. The spores 
winter in the soil. So year after year ripe wild grapes on these vines 
would pick up spores of yeast which would fall with the ripe grapes to 
the ground. When Dueward set his crock of corn meal, molasses (or sugar 
if he could sneak it) and water under the vines, he covered the top with 
a piece of cloth like an old sheet, so that the brew could air, or 
breathe, so he said. What actually happened is that the bees and other 
insects picked up the wild yeast spores from the earth and they went 
right through the old sheet into the brew. So Dueward quickly got beer, 
even though he had no brewer’s yeast.

Roland’s Overhalls. One night after Dueward was out late, I know not 
where, but perhaps down in the “Hollow,” I woke up to a thudding sound 
on the floor. I opened my eyes and I could see Dueward sitting up on his 
side of the bed. He then gave a long “Aaaaagh,” and lay down. I went 
back to sleep. (Now, Roland, Clifford, and Donald all wore their 
overalls each day and, at night, they simply dropped them to the floor, 
stepped out, and got in bed. So, what you saw when they were in bed were 
three sets of overalls sitting on the floor, just as they had left 
them.) Next morning, when everybody got up, Roland said, “Somebody peed 
on my overhalls,” and he would not put them on. Soon Clifford and Donald 
found their overalls were also wet. So my mother was soon aware of the 
situation and had to find some other clothes. She naturally asked me if 
I had done the deed, and I could only say absolutely not and report that 
I had heard a noise, then heard Dueward give a long sigh of relief. I 
was sure he had done it. Dueward was indignant that anyone would accuse 
him of such an act. I think my mother had an unscheduled clothes wash 
that day and let the matter drop. I believe Dueward just had too much 
corn beer and remembered nothing. But the rest of us never forgot 
Roland’s “peed-on overhalls.”

Exchanging Work. Before we were able to do heavy work, we exchanged work 
with Dueward. He did our heavy plowing and specialized work and we did 
his light work, hoeing, picking cotton, pulling corn, weeding, grubbing, 
etc. He complained constantly, so one day when I was 13 I had enough and 
told him we did more work for him than he did for us. I told him I would 
keep a record and prove it. I asked him how much my work was worth 
relative to his, he said about one-half. Then I asked about Clifford and 
Donald, and he said, each one-third, then for Roland, one-fourth. I was 
sure I did three-fourths as much as he, but I let that rest. I just kept 
the record for a week. I went down to his house at the end of the week 
and told him I wanted to compare work. He and Dorothy were still 
newlyweds and seemed to want to do something else; but we added it up, 
and he owed us half a day. Dorothy then said something about the record, 
so I gave the book to her and told her to keep it the next week. But she 
gave it back to me and said, “Oh no, you boys work it out.” Dueward was 
very quiet and finally said, “We are at least even. Don’t worry anymore 
about keeping that record.” But he did not complain again about that issue.

Sabbath Day Work. Dueward was the only one of us who never joined a 
church, and he even considered the prohibitions against work on Sunday 
to be outmoded. One year after he left home and was working for Dolphus 
Yelverton five days a week, he decided to grow a separate crop on 
Saturdays and Sundays. He got some land from Dolphus back in the Big 
Woods out of sight of any highway or dwelling and planted what he 
thought he could handle on Saturdays and Sundays. He was successful, but 
the effort wore him out. His wife Dorothy let him know that she 
preferred a livelier husband than to have the small crop he had managed 
to harvest. After that, Dueward admitted God had it right when he 
decreed a day of rest each week. Late in life, he even took Dorothy to 
church on Sundays.

(Note: I never intended to include my brothers in these little stories, 
but I got a request for one on Dueward. He was born 21 May 1913 on 
Little Cohay, 96 years ago, not long before my parents moved to Concord 
Community near the railroad.)

DFHough1, 7 Jul 2005.

PS. "Eighty-five million Americans have experimented with illegal drugs. 
Since the object of criminal law is to detect and punish the wrongdoer, 
should we reason that 85 million of us should have spent time in jail?" 
William F. Buckley, Jr, Founder, /National Review./