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Vernon Lee Linton Jr.

Vernon Lee Linton, Jr. LUBBOCK-Funeral services for Vernon Lee Linton, Jr. will be at 11 a.m. on Wednesday, April 30, 2014, at South Park Baptist Church, 2201 82nd Street, with Rev. Doug Kello officiating. U.S. Navy Honors will be observed. Vernon passed away on April 23 in Lubbock. He was born on Nov. 10, 1926, in Onalaska, Texas, to Vernon Lee Linton and Opal Faircloth Linton. After high school, he joined the Navy and served on active duty during WWII. He met Sylvia Marie Bienn in New Orleans and they married on April 6, 1946. After his military service, he graduated from the University of Houston as a Mechanical Engineer and worked in Kansas, Oklahoma, and Texas for Phillips Oil Company. After several years of service with a Naval Reserve unit in Oklahoma City, he returned to active duty with the Navy and retired in 1979 as a lieutenant commander. He then began his third career as the Director of Facilities Management at Texas Tech Health Sciences Center and retired from there in 1991. He also completed a Master's Degree in Public Administration from the University of Northern Colorado. Sylvia preceded him in death after 66 years of marriage. He is survived by one son and one daughter: Ben and Kit Linton and Becky and John Albin; five grandchildren: April Linton, Rachel Linton, Sarah and Todd Konkel, Amy and

Andy Nickel, Scott and Denae Albin; and one great-grandchild: Zachary Konkel. In lieu of flowers, donations may be made to Harvest Outreach Ministries, 9521 N. US Hwy 287, Sunset, TX 76270. 

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Posted by: Vernon Linton on Aug 13 2009 08:50

The First Time I Ever Caught A Fish

By Tom Linton

The first time I ever caught a fish was in this most unexpected company; my paternal grandmother. She was a very stern woman. She gave orders and everyone obeyed! And a smile was a foreign expression to her face.

On the occasion of my first fishing “expedition”, I had been “sentenced” to spend the day under her watchful care. Things went along pretty much as I had expected, me keeping a low profile, snapping to it when given an order and thus avoiding the wrath of Grandma. After lunch, after her nap, she asked, “Would you like to go fishing?” Having never been before I surmised that it would probably be fun. Grandma then suddenly metamorphosed into a little girl as she explained how to take a pin, bend it, dig up worms for bait and cut a small piece rotten wood to serve as a bobber. She was smiling and telling me how she, her father and mother would go fishing when she was my age.

We went down to the creek that ran along the back boundary of my grandfather’s farm. We found a deep pool in the stream, baited the “hook” and set about fishing. The first fish that took the bait I lost by jerking the line too quickly. So I thought it is going to be hell to pay! She laughed and said “You can’t get over anxious, take your time”. I lost about three or four more before landing my FIRST FISH! It was a bluegill that could not have been more than three inches long. Grandma clapped her hands and yelled “Congratulations”! She showed me how to cut a thin green limb, trim off a side branch to form a j-shaped device to serve as a fish stringer. We carried my prize home so I could show my parents when they came by to collect me.

After that one event I cannot ever remember my grandmother acting in such a joyful manner as she did while we were at the creek. The act of fishing seemed to serve as a time machine transporting her back to what must have been a happier time in her life. Taking a kid fishing will do that for most people.

Maybe it is because you feel you are having an influencing on their life.

I know for a fact that by taking my sons fishing it has influenced their lives.

It causes them to plan ahead. They always buy far more shrimp (of sizes more commonly found on dinner plates than fish hooks) than one would ever use on a single fishing trip.

Since I have spent most of my professional career “studying” fish, when they were young they would proudly extol my piscatorial prowess. “If you want to know how the liver of a fish functions, ask my Dad. If you want to know how to catch a fish ask someone else”. I have spent untold hours in non-productive fishing endeavors with them. But because hope springs eternal, they stuck with me, “perhaps the “Old Man” will come through” --- and I finally did!

Some of my “Aggie” colleagues and I were asked to evaluate a fish food additive that a company in Beaumont had developed. In some preliminary tests it looked like it would do what they hoped it would do --- bind the food together for a longer period of time to slow disintegration of the pellets. The next step was to conduct a full-scale feeding experiment.

We obtained permission to conduct this experiment using a cooling tower at a power plant that was not in operation. There was about an acre of water surface area in the basin over which the tower sat. Water was continuously run through the system to prevent the pumps from seizing up or the piping might become clogged with sediment.

Water could be run through the baffled system in the tower and thus water temperature could be kept from getting too elevated even in the hottest days of the summer. It was an ideal system in which to raise fish.

We stocked it with 20,000 three inch channel catfish fingerlings. Fed them all they would eat twice a day. They grew like weeds. In twelve months it was teeming with fish.

When it came time to harvest, my youngest son was home on school holidays. I asked if he would like to go help me harvest a fish pond. He, unknowingly, eagerly accepted my offer.

It took several hours to pump the water down to a level where we could capture the fish. The capturing was done with a seine. After fish have occupied a pond for a year, even if the pond has a substantial flow through of water, a most unpleasant accumulation of sediment comes to reside on the bottom of the pond. Therefore, the seining activity took place in rather uninviting surroundings.

We seined and hauled fish up to the transport tanks for four hours. We harvested 5,000 pounds of fish.

When it was all over, my son and I were sitting on the edge of the tower basin, in the shade. We were pretty grubby specimens. He said, “I have never seen so many fish, I thought we would never stop catching them”. And so it was one of those moments, if you are on pretty good terms with your kids, you can come up with a statement that takes a while to sink in but when it does it produces uncontrollable laughter. “I don’t suppose you would be interested in me explaining to you how a fish’s liver functions”?

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Family stories:My Contribution
Posted by: Vernon Linton on Aug 13 2009 08:41

My Contribution

Emken Linton

I think this is a great idea. The only things I can think of at this time are the following

Following the death of my father, Vernon came to the funeral home and helped me manage the business until he felt comfortable enough to let me do it myself. Because of your dad’s experience, I avoided many problems which might have been disastrous. I always appreciated his wise counsel.

My father had dated several women before he met my mother. On their first date Dad drove to the funeral home where mom lived on the second floor with her parents. He stayed in the car and honked the horn. Mother came out and said “ Fred, you have to come inside and meet my father “. Dad said “ Why? “ Mother said “ That’s just the way he is” ( He was of German ancestry). Dad walked up to the screen door that hadn’t been opened and said through the screen “Did you want to see me? “ My grandfather said “ Yea, stick your face in here. “ Dad opened the screen door, leaned in, and said “ What do you think of it? “ My grandfather said “ It ain’t nothing to be proud of “. Things got better after that.

If I can remember more, I will let you know.

Thanks for all the work you and your family have put in to make this possible.


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Family stories:Back Packing
Posted by: Vernon Linton on Aug 9 2009 14:41

Back Packing

It was Spring Break 1983. My college roommate, Jim Anderson, and I decided to hike The Lone Star trail in East Texas. We drove in from Austin to stay with Granny and Pappy before setting out early the next morning for a week back packing. After dinner Pappy was talking to Granny and I asked, "Do have any advice?" Pappy answered, I sure do. If you want to sleep out under Pine trees we have plenty out here in the back yard and you can take your meals in doors", with a raspy laugh. Well, we hit the Trail .The trail was a mess from recent tornadoes and after 10 straight hours of rain we headed back to Onalaska to sleep and eat inside before heading back to Austin.


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Family memories:My Aunt Opal
Posted by: Vernon Linton on Aug 9 2009 14:39


Helen Jane Linton Page

Thank you, Vernon. I really appreciate it. Here is a story that I remembered after talking with you and Tommy on august 1st.

Vernon, I am a fashionista, and I think it started when I was about two years old when a woman I thought of as my mother made a slip for me out of the cloth of a flour bag. Flour came in cloth bags in those days. I put on what i called my "snip" and refused to take it off. I slept in it. The woman was my Aunt Opal. She made all her own clothes; and, consequently, I developed an interest in sewing and clothes that carries on to this day. I guess I will never get tired of buying clothes.

What I learned from this incident in my life is, I think, a very important thing: when you let someone know how much you love them, you have a huge influence on that person -- even down to what that person might decide to do with his/her life. Love is the most powerful force.

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Family stories:Robert Lee Lnton, The Patriarch of The Clan
Posted by: Vernon Linton on Aug 6 2009 17:18


By Vernon Linton

My grandfather, Robert Lee Linton was one hell of a man. He was only about 5'8" tall and weighed probably 160 pounds soaking wet but he was “something else”, a power to be dealt with. From the time I can remember until I was about 15 years old we lived in a four room, wood frame house at the front gate of grand daddy’s 160 acre farm. He and Mama lived in a four room frame house with a breeze way about a quarter of a mile from our house. My uncle John and Aunt Lola lived in a frame house across a little creek and about another quarter of a mile from Mamma and grand daddy

One of the greatest pleasures that I can remember was the time I spent with them during the years when I was probably 3 to 7 years old. Granddaddy had a day bed in that breeze way. It was a small metal frame bed with a network of metal links connected to coil springs at each end of the bed. It was actually constructed of two sections, one of which could be inserted under the other to make a single bed but granddaddy always kept it in the expanded condition. It had a thin mattress on it. It was a great pleasure to me to lay in bed with my granddad.

His nickname for me was "Staglagly". I never knew the source of that name. He delighted in telling me stories. I remember distinctly him telling me one about how a squirrel got across the river. He said the squirrel would get a piece of bark, sit on the bark, and raising his tail, let the wind blow him across.

Granddaddy chewed Brown's Mule tobacco. As long as I can remember granddaddy had no teeth. You they always depend upon him having a chew of Brown's Mule in his mouth. When I was about seven years old, Uncle Fred and aunt Bertie took Mama and granddaddy on vacation to Kerrville, Texas. They also took me with them. It was quite an adventure for a child my age. Uncle Fred had a new four door Chevrolet sedan. The back doors where called suicide doors. They were hinged on the rear and opened outwardly. On this particular trip granddaddy was sitting in the backseat right behind the driver. With its perennial mouth full of tobacco he needed to spit. Fortunately Uncle Fred was driving rather slowly because granddaddy open that back door and spit. Of course the automobile was thrown to the left and was quite difficult to control. Uncle Fred said "What the hell did you do, Poppa" whereupon granddaddy replied "Gawdamn, Fred can’t you control this thing". As might be expected, fellowship in the automobile was strained for a period of time.

On another occasion on this trip we were crossing a low water bridge (which means the water ran over the roadway at about 2 to 3 inches deep). Once again, granddaddy had to spit. He thought the car window was rolled down. Unfortunately it was not so he spat all over the inside of the car window. This produced another strain on the fellowship.

We stayed in a motel in Kerrville. The cabin had two double beds which are occupied by Mama and granddaddy on one and Uncle Fred and Aunt Birdie on the other. They made me a pallet on the floor. The motel was not air-conditioned so we left the wooden door open. My pallet was in front of the door. As the night progressed the moonlight streamed in through the screen door onto me and my pallet. Mama was quite upset that I was asleep in the moonlight. She was concerned that I would be "moonstruck". To be “moonstruck” was tantamount to becoming a lunatic.

We returned safely to our home in Carlisle. It was an adventure, the memory of which, you can see, has lasted many years.

Now to return to the Brown's Mule tobacco. Granddaddy usually purchased his tobacco and a 1 pound cardboard carton. Occasionally, when he made a good crop, he would purchase a 10 pound wooden carton which he called a "caddie". He normally purchased the 1 pound packages from the general store, combination post office which, in the early days was owned and operated by a gentleman named Mr. Simonton. Later on the store was sold to Mr. Leonard Lowery and his wife Pearl. That sale occurred when I was in the second or third grade. But I digress. For some reason the tobacco was unavailable at the store in Carlisle so, mounted on my favorite black horse called Tar Baby I was sent to Sevastopol where Mr. Jim Lawrence operated a general store. It was approximately 10 miles from Carlisle to Sevastopol. I distinctly remember making that trip to purchase Brown's Mule tobacco for granddaddy.

For number of years mule traders from Missouri would come to the Groveton area in the late winter or early spring prepared to sell "raw broke" mules. That designation meant that the mules had been harnessed at least one time. Granddaddy usually purchased a pair of mules almost every time the traders came. He would bring the mules home and worked them for a season, converting them to well trained animals. He would then sell the mules for a profit. It was one way he augmented his income. As he grew older the task of "breaking" mules proved to be more than he could handle. He solved the problem quite simply. He purchased a riding cultivator. He also purchased two 20 inch plow points or sweeps, mounted them on his riding cultivator, hitched up his "raw broke" mules, cut for himself and elm switch about 5 feet long, mounted the cultivator, stuck the sweeps into the ground as for as the cultivator would allow, yelled ‘get up’ and begin to apply the elm switch to the mules posterior. After about two or three rounds of about 50 yards length the mules were very docile and he was able to continue to train them to be excellent farm animals. Such actions today probably would have landed him in jail for animal cruelty. But that is how it was in the “good old days”.

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Family stories:That Was My Daddy
Posted by: Vernon Linton on Aug 6 2009 17:14

That Was My Daddy

By. Tom Linton

I found a newspaper clipping encased in a plastic sleeve.

It was in a bunch of things that Daddy had kept in a box.

How I came by the box is a mystery.

In putting together the “Remembrances” for this reunion, this was the best description I could find of Vernon Lee Linton, Sr.

“To laugh often and much

To win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children

To earn the appreciation of honest critics and endure the betrayal of false friends

To appreciate beauty

To find the best in others

To leave the world a bit better; whether by a hearty child, a garden patch or a redeemed social condition

To know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived

This is to have succeeded”

By: Ralph Waldo Emerson

*And when we hold the Faircloth Family Reunion I will say the verysame about Opal Mary Faircloth Linton, with a special emphasis on the “a garden patch” part.

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Family stories:They All Loved Cars
Posted by: Vernon Linton on Aug 6 2009 17:12

They All Loved Cars

By Tom Linton

Uncle Emmitt and all of his sons knew cars and highly prized them. Wendell for a time, re-worked English-built cars and retrofitted them with American-made engines.

Possibly because parts were cheaper and easier to get --- but more likely just to show that he could do it!

Glenn and Ronald were also into cars as well but not to the extent of their elder brother. However, they did possess that affinity and knowledge inherited from their father. I hadn’t seen Glenn for about 30-years and the first thing he said to me was, “I remember that little super-up ’53 Ford you had the last time I saw you.”

Once while I was staying with Granddaddy and Mama Linton, Uncle Emmitt came up to Carlisle for a visit. He came in his brand-new, 40-model Ford.

To get to Granddaddy’s place, you turned off the gravel road between Carlisle and the Polk County line, passed alongside Drady Tipton’s land and then a short distance after turning left to head toward Granddaddy’s farm (but before you got to the Camp Branch Bridge), you came to a low spot in the road. After a rain, unless “you hit it a running” (as my Grandfather phrased it), you would get stuck.

“Hitting it a running” meant that, at a distance of about 400 yards, you pushed the car up to its top speed and then tried to hold her on the road as you careened across the low spot. And you hoped that the car did not lose its momentum until you had made it across to firm dry ground.

Uncle Emmitt tried this maneuver but his car let him down.

It was well after dark when he arrived at the gate to the yard. As was custom when approaching Granddaddy’s house after dark (for reasons that might be the basis of yet another tale of the “Ways of Lee Linton,”), he called out for Granddaddy by name.

When he came in, he told Granddaddy that his car was stuck. It was decided to wait until the next day to go with the wagon and team to extract his car.

The next morning, we hitched up the team and set out.

The team was a pair of young mules, with a male of about 3 years old and a female not quite 3 years old --- both had not achieved full growth and were slight of build.

The car was well and truly stuck. In trying to get the car through the low spot, the wheels had spun and burrowed deep into the mud so that the car was resting on its frame.

The wagon was backed up to the car and attached to the front of the frame with a logging chain.

We all backed away to the side of the road. Granddaddy stood up in the wagon, braced himself against the wagon seat, wrapped the reins around his wrist and spoke in a not too gentle voice, “Hack at ‘em.” The mules stained but to no avail.

A conference was held among the onlookers as to what should be done --- get another wagon and team, get the road grader, etc. Granddaddy was not a participant in this conference. He had taken his double-bitted ax from the wagon, walked a little ways out among the trees and cut a pine sapling about 8 or 10 feet in length. As the conferees continued to discuss strategy, he trimmed off the branches from the sapling.

Without commentary he climbed back into the wagon and assumed his former position.

After issuing the “Hack at ‘em” command, he swung the sapling that he was holding with his free hand with the base clinched against his body, striking one mule with a blow that caused her to rock a little, then brought it back across the other one with even more vigor.

This caused the mules to become extremely “dedicated” to the task at hand.

With this extra commitment, the car came bounding out of the mud, accompanied by a sound like a cork being removed from a bottle.

The assembly of mules, wagon and car made its way through a most wild and disjoined journey through the remainder of the low spot.

This was accompanied by words of encouragement from Uncle Emmitt. “God damn, it Papa you gonna tear up my car.”

When the car, wagon and mules had made it out of the mud, Granddaddy broke his silence. “I was afraid those mules were too little to pull out that car.”

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Genealogy:Desceb=ndants of Christine Palestine Bright
Posted by: Vernon Linton on Aug 5 2009 00:21

Descendants of Christine Palestine Bright

Generation No. 1

1. Christine Palestine2 Bright (Z. Graves Ferdinan1) was born 26 Nov 1847 in Pike County, Alabama, and died 30 Apr 1919 in Matagorta, County, Texas Texas. She married John Robert Cox 07 Jan 1869 in Alabama, son of Jesse Cox and Sarah McCall. He was born 31 Aug 1847 in Alabama, and died 10 Apr 1933 in Harris County, Texas.

Notes for Christine Palestine Bright:
Death Date and Location per Ron Linton
1900 U S Census, Texas, Trinity, Justice Precinct 1, Dist. 95, Image 14.

More About Christine Palestine Bright:
Burial: 04 May 1919, Groveton, Texas

Notes for John Robert Cox:
Source: 1880 US Federal Census-- Trinity County, Texas, Precinct 4, (Dist. 110 Image 31)
Occupation: Farmer
1900 U S Census, Texas, Trinity, Justice Precinct 1, Dist. 95, Image 14.
Source: 1910 US Federal Census-- Matagorda County, Texas (ED# 145 Image 20)
John R....

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Family memories:Samuel Linton's Obituary
Posted by: Vernon Linton on Apr 25 2009 13:46

Samuel Linton the first son of Edward Linton was born in Prince Georges Co., Maryland. We know he was born on 17 Aug. 1755 as he wrote that information and signed it on the fly leaf of one of his biblical books called "Sauren's Sermons". When his father, Edward, wrote his will in 1776, the year of the Declaration of Independence, he made Samuel his executor. We have a copy of that will. This was in Mecklenberg Co., N. C. Shortly after the death of Edward, Samuel enlisted under Captain

Charles Polk and fought Indians in Tennessee. (You may recall that the latter were a big factor in the Revolutionary War). This service was for only 53 days -- he was paid 5 pounds. It was shortly after this, it is believed, that he married Ruth Brown. It is thought that she was the daughter of Alexander Brown. Samuel moved to Old 96 District, Abbeville Co., S. C. about 1780. In 1781 he joined Cap't. William Alexander's Troop D, Hampton's regiment, Sumpter's Brigade as a private. On 6 June 1782, he was promoted to quartermaster. After serving his enlistment, Samuel with the help of his brother John, sold his land in Mecklenberg Co. and began buying land about 17 miles from the present city of Abbeville. The cane-brake land near

Rocky River (a tributary of the large Savannah River), he reasoned, and rightly, would be ideal for raising cattle. Samuel, as a cattleman, as a tanner, and as a justice of the Circuit Court, prospered. In the 30-odd years that Samuel lived in Abbeville Co., he acquired over a thousand acres of land, more than 50 slaves, and built, on rolling land that is very beautiful, a 2½ story home that he called Mount Pleasant. In this he had a large library. His estate was worth about $100,000. Ruth Brown Linton died in 1796 and Samuel married Isabel Amanda (Elizabeth) Montgomery within the year. He educated his children well; some becoming doctors, others lawyers and some ministers and a few planters. Samuel, as he had requested, was buried in his flower garden in his front yard and his headstone still remains there. He died in December, 1826 and Elizabeth died in 1829. The children of Samuel and Ruth were: Elizabeth, Samuel, Jr., Dr. Alexander Brown and Ruth, Jr. The children of Samuel and our Elizabeth were: Isabel Amanda, (attorney) Benjamin Franklin, Hampden Sidney, Dr. John Nelson, Moses Waddel, Thomas Jefferson, James Madison, Margaret Josephine, Mary Rebecca, and Clotilda Elizabeth Linton.

From: “The Linton Heritage 1637 – 1981

By: Calvin R. Linton

Larry R. Linton

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