“Grandpa and the Miracle Grindstone” by Joe David Brown

 

Women were still weeping over the graves at Gettysburg when my grandpa came to Walesburg. Nobody ever quite figured out where he came from or why he came. He just showed up one night in a blue-serge store-bought suit and eased his way into Jere Higham's place. Grandpa walked quietly to the end of the bar and put down his Bible. He didn't have to call for silence, because it followed him through the long smoky room like a hound dog.

Grandpa cleared his throat and began to speak. “Boys, I'm you’re new preacher,” he said, “and I aim to give my first sermon right here.”

A couple of General Lee's men still in uniform, began to laugh. Grandpa didn't even glance that way. He just reached under his long coat and pulled out two long-barreled cavalry pistols and slapped them on the bar.

“Either I speak,” he said, “or these do!”

This 1956 short-story by Mr. Brown is a mini-marvel. He is also the author of Addie Pray, which became the charming Oscar-winning film, Paper Moon about a 11-year-old con artist and her older partner.

The story feels like a Southern shaggy dog story, that morphs into one of tough-minded faith, and right before one suspects that it may turn mawkish ala a lesser episode of The Waltons, Mr. Brown kicks his moral into high gear and leaves us with both a fine story and a firm sense of the kind of boot-strappin’ faith that likely sustained many of pioneer spirit.

Damned, well done.

I will now be tracking down more of Mr. Brown’s work.