Increasing the Radius

Increasing The Radius

By William R. Boone

AuthorHouse

Copyright © 2012 William R. Boone
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4772-0335-4

Contents

Preface..................................................................................ixAdvice From Dad..........................................................................3Because You Were Not Sue.................................................................5Biscuits Versus Asphalt..................................................................7Chicken Feed.............................................................................9DOD......................................................................................11It's Pretty Like Calligraphy, But You Cannot Read It.....................................13My Opinion Of My Brother.................................................................15Stomping Graveyards......................................................................17The 1959 Ph.D............................................................................19Heroes...................................................................................23Dedication To Dad........................................................................27Dad's Poultry Science Obituary...........................................................31Mom......................................................................................33Grandparents.............................................................................39James H. Bywaters........................................................................45Richard A. Carmichael....................................................................47Brank Fulton.............................................................................51Ned Gingerich............................................................................57William Makali...........................................................................61Esther Lee Finley Threlkeld..............................................................69Being In Partnership With God............................................................75Booneism.................................................................................77Introducing My Family To The Congregation................................................79An Episcopalian In A "Non-Pomp And Circumstance" Church..................................83I Saw A Miracle Today....................................................................85Tithing..................................................................................87Death....................................................................................89Where Does Life Begin; Where Does Life End...............................................93The Beauty Of Philosophy.................................................................97First Impressions........................................................................99GETL: An Administrative Philosophy.......................................................103Hate.....................................................................................107How This Book Got Its Name...............................................................109Life Is Like Cutting Paper...............................................................111Making Lemonade Out Of Lemons—The Dyslexia Story...................................113The Bonnie Jane..........................................................................117April's Fawn.............................................................................121Birth Of A Cleanroom.....................................................................123Bling....................................................................................127Chores...................................................................................129Dad's Favorite Sayings And Responses.....................................................131Heights I................................................................................133Heights II...............................................................................135Heights III..............................................................................139Heights IV...............................................................................145"I Had Everything Under Control Until Those Darn Trumpets Blew.".........................147It Sounded Like A Good Idea At The Time..................................................151JD.......................................................................................153Leaders..................................................................................155My Favorites.............................................................................157Perforations In The Ceiling..............................................................159Please Have Someone Rewrite It In English................................................161Report Card For The Boone School Of Travel...............................................163Savoring The Spices Of Life..............................................................165Secrecy, Setbacks, And Stubbornness—The Making Of A Fraternity.....................181Shiny Shoes..............................................................................191Sports = Fear............................................................................193The Bomb.................................................................................195The Christmas Gift.......................................................................197The Gondola Ride.........................................................................199The Greatest Invention...................................................................201The Town Whose Name Had A Color In It....................................................203The Wedding Of The Century...............................................................205The Windsor Knot.........................................................................207The World's Largest......................................................................209Travelling With The Hubers...............................................................211Where Were You When......................................................................213The Life And Times Of Bill And Edna Boone................................................215

Chapter One

Childhood Memories

Advice From Dad

Dad used to say that everything needed to be signed and dated. While I never quite understood, I tried to follow his lead. I finally understood why he said this when I started to write 113 Calhoun Street: The Early Years of the Beta Zeta Chapter of Alpha Gamma Rho. Without dates and names of authors, the problem of verifying facts was greatly magnified and the compilation of such a book became almost impossible. I suspect Dad ran across this problem when he tried to write his two books, Descendants of Henry Harrison Boon, Including Partial Histories on Curtner and Burgess Families and Descendants of Henry L. Burgess.

1 February 2004

Because You Were Not Sue

My family is interested in genealogy. I knew that my brother's name, Donald Thomas (Mike) Boone, came from my two uncles—Donald Darbee Rogers and Harold Thomas Boone. The name "Mike" came from a friend of my mother's family, "Mike" Lynch. Knowing the source of my brother's name begged me to ask my mother, "How did I get the name 'Bill'?" My mother answered, "Because you were not 'Sue.'" End of story.

11 November 2002

Biscuits Versus Asphalt

Ever since I can remember, my mother was an experimenter in the kitchen. As a matter of fact, about every other month the family would undergo "Experimental Week." During this week, Mom would try all kinds of new recipes—some good, some bad. What you must understand is my mother never wrote down a recipe; she went by taste—does it need more salt; how about a dash of basil?

Mom tried numerous recipes over her lifetime, but biscuits were not her forté. We used to kid her about her biscuits because they were so hard. More than once, my brother, Mike, and I took biscuits after supper, stood on our side porch nearest the road and threw them towards the highway. If they reached the highway, they just bounced; they did not break apart, they just bounced. We would tell Mom the biscuits were so hard they would take divots out of the asphalt.

1 February 2004

Chicken Feed

He was the strongest man I knew, next to Mr. James B. Cooper. He stood six feet four inches tall, but never weighted any more than 165 pounds. This Herculean man was my father.

In 1957, my family raised chickens in our barn to earn some extra money. What I remember most about raising chickens was how the chicken feed was moved from the top of the barn to the basement of the barn. Feed came in 100 pound burlap bags; some of the bags were still in the barn, or at least they were when my niece, Susan, and I were there last.

In order to get the feed from the top of the barn, where it was stored, to the basement of the barn, where the chickens were housed, required physical labor. My Dad would lift one 100-pound feed bag and put it over his right shoulder and then lift a second 100-pound feed bag and tuck it between his left arm and his hip and walk with them around the outside of the barn, down to the north basement door. Once at the door, he would set the "left" bag down, slide the door open, pick the "left" bag back up, and carry it into the barn! Even when I thought I was invincible, I could not have performed that feat.

It is one thing to "pump" 200 pounds while you lift weights; it is an entirely different thing to pick up two separate 100-pound items and carry them 50 yards down an incline, while the contents shift inside the container.

9 November 2008

DOD

I plagiarized this three-letter acronym from my father. He was the first one I ever saw use it, and I thought it was a great idea. You know what "they" say about copying someone: "It is the best form of flattery." The initials "DOD" stand for "Dear Ole Dad."

1 February 2004

IT's Pretty Like Calligraphy, But You Cannot Read IT

When mother attended elementary school, children were expected to learn a particular writing style. The style required the whole arm to move to form letters, not just fingers or wrist and fingers. However, Mom did not like this writing style, so she only used it when the teacher was looking.

Mom did not like the way some letters were formed, so she sometimes developed her own style of letters. For example, she did not like the way the "D" looked, so she made her own "D."

To this day, her penmanship is pretty; but unfortunately, no one can read it. If you do not believe me, ask Nuke. "Who is Nuke?" you ask. Nuke is my brother. When we were small, Mom wrote to the company that published the children's magazine titled Jack and Jill and had the publication come in our names. When the magazine came, it was addressed to "Nuke and Bell Boone." The people at the publishing company could not differentiate between "Mike" and "Nuke" or between "Bill" and "Bell."

1 February 2004

Here is an example:

[ILLUSTRATION OMITTED]

Stomping Graveyards

Have you ever spent much time in a graveyard? I have. I did this in my early teenage years. I did this with one of my idols—my dad. We did a lot of this in Obion County, Tennessee, and other places because that is where clues to the mystery took us. The mystery, of course, was whether or not we were related to Daniel Boone.

As you might expect, however, when you get back into the early 1800s, it becomes hard to trace your ancestors. Back then, records were kept in family Bibles, which often got lost or burned. In addition, formal records were kept in churches and courthouse, both of which were wood structures and were often destroyed, along with the contents inside.

Because of this lack of information, we were relegated to stomping graveyards in search of family members. We could only hope family members were buried together and would have some history etched into their tombstones. Unfortunately, even if we found a family member's gravestone, it was often so worn little information could be retrieved.

However, memories of filling in the blanks of our genealogy with my father are not forgotten. Old courthouse record books that were available are still memorable. Copying pages from these books in hopes of using the information to find a link with our past was always exciting. To me, the trips were more valuable than the information.

5 February 2004

The 1959 Ph.D.

It was 1959 when Dad started leaving us about 6:30 on Monday morning and reappearing sometime on Friday. He would go to the Law Dorm where many of the advanced-degree students lived. That was all I knew, besides the fact his roommates would have funny names because they were from foreign countries like India. But for me, it started about 1960.

My dad and I would get up early on a Saturday morning, climb into the 1952 black Studebaker Champion, rocket across Highway 76 east to Wildhog Road, onto what is now Interstate 85, cross the Seneca River and enter Georgia. From there we took Highway 106 through Carnesville, slowed down in Ila (rumor had it that the only way the policeman got paid in Ila was through speeding tickets), and rolled into Athens. The 72-mile trek took 72 minutes; this was before Interstate Highway 85 was constructed, so it was all two-lane highways. (Maybe the reason I like speed today was because I was used to it when my dad drove.) Once in Athens, Dad drove back roads to the poultry farm where we headed to the research building.

I do not remember all of the details; I just remember I acted as recording secretary. Dad would call out numbers and I would write them down. About mid morning we would take a break and go to the walk-in cooler. Inside the cooler were dozens upon dozens of chicken eggs, some cartons of chocolate milk and an assortment of crackers. Dad would put a few coins in a container and we would walk out with these delectable goodies (not the eggs). We were on the honor system and that seemed reasonable to me. After the break, we would record more numbers. Eventually the recording would stop; we would get back into the black speed machine and be whisked back to Clemson.

The only exception to this repetition was when Dad ran out of his life support. Then we would motor off the beaten path and venture into the town of Athens. We would turn right at The Varsity and park three stores down. We would enter Barnett's Tobacco Shop where Dad would exchange pleasantries with the man behind the counter. The man would swagger proudly from behind the counter, move to his right, reach up some five shelves, and pull down a one-pound tin of Ole Briar Pipe Tobacco. Dad would pay the gentleman, we would say our goodbyes, and I would take Dad's life support to the car.

Then there were the times we went to the basement of the Plant and Animal Science Building (P&A Building) at Clemson College (It was not until 1964 that Clemson College became Clemson University.) carrying boxes of precious cargo. The boxes were about four inches high, nine inches wide and sixteen inches long. Inside the box were what seemed to me millions of file cards. Dad showed me some cards one time; each card contained a few strategically placed rectangular holes about 1/16 of an inch wide and 3/16 of an inch in height. Dad said if the boxes got dropped and the cards fell out, his research data would be mixed up—I carried the boxes very carefully.

Once down in the basement, we met Mr. Merrill Palmer, who took the long boxes of cards from us and ran them through this enormous machine called a computer. It seemed to me this computer took up almost the entire basement of the P&A Building. By today's standards, a pocket calculator could do as much, if not more, than this humongous computer, but at the time this was the "cat's meow." As I understood it, each of these file cards, with its rectangular holes, contained a piece of information punched into it. The computer somehow "read" these tiny holes and translated them into the numbers my Dad and I collected in Athens. Anyway, the cards seemed to be very valuable to my dad because he kept them in the attic for years.

I really did not understand the full significance of these events until much later, but this was the part I remember about how Dad and I earned his Ph.D.

Dad graduated with his Ph.D. in Poultry Physiology on June 8, 1962.

14 June 2007

Influential People That I Have Known

Heroes

I like to read tee shirt slogans. Despite having stated this, I was infuriated by one that said, "Be a hero—give blood." Giving blood does not make a person a hero! A person that gives blood spends about an hour sitting in a chair, gives about a pint of the red elixir, receives cookies and juice, and gets a free tee shirt; this is not a hero. A hero is an individual that is admired for his/her courage, nobility, or achievements—not for giving a pint of blood. The author of the slogan on this tee shirt has denigrated the true meaning of the word hero. Let me tell you about two real heroes.

As a child, I thought of Roy Rogers as my hero. Then as I grew older, John Wayne became my hero. However, as I reflect on my life, I realize that the two real heroes in my life were neither of the two previously mentioned persons. Granted, these two individuals represented the good in America and that good conquers evil, but when it gets down to day-to-day living, my true heroes were my brother and my father. This might explain why you will find stories about these two people throughout this book.

Because he was so much wiser than I, I tried to emulate my brother's every move. If he wanted a bike, I wanted a bike. After he got his electric train, I wanted one. When he got an erector set, you guessed it, I wanted one too. It was not that I thought I had to own these things because they were "in"; it was because my hero had them. After he joined the high school band, I had to join the band. After he started driving a school bus (yes, you could drive a school bus when you were 17 years old), I too had to get my bus driver's license.

Did you know my brother can fix anything, and I do mean anything? When he was in high school, he took apart a 1956 Plymouth to see how it ran. He was always rebuilding carburetors on lawn mowers. He even figured out how to keep the barn walls from collapsing. To this day, if the washing machine breaks, if I need to rewire a part of the house, or if the car starts to experience a problem, I call my hero. This is the way it has always worked; this is the way it will continue to work until the end.

He has a talent that far surpasses the average person, but perhaps Mike's greatest gift is his patience. It was a couple of years ago, I guess, and I needed instructions on a wiring project, so I called him at his home in Rock Hill. Mike told me exactly what to do, but he could tell from the conversation his words were being lost in translation. He calmly went through the instructions two more times before the light bulb went off in my head, but I still remember his last words to me, "If you need help, call me; or I can come down and help you."

I modeled my life after my dad, sometimes without even knowing it. We earned all of our college degrees in animal science fields. We belonged to the same national agricultural fraternity—Alpha Gamma Rho. We have drawn on our agricultural background to try and help individuals in foreign countries. And now, I am close to completing my last, long-term goal—being able to compare my resume to his. My dad wrote 72 abstracts, 58 refereed journal articles, and two books.

I even possess some physical characteristics similar to my hero. Dad and I worked in the same building on the Clemson University campus—he as a full professor and I as a graduate student. It was often said you could hear the voice of a Boone in the halls of the Plant and Animal Science building, but you could never tell which one it was. What an honor for someone to say that to me.

I am sure my father never intended for his life to be as closely modeled as I have done. It was not always intentional, but over the last few years, I have come to realize there was never a better person to emulate than my dad.

Sometimes the best heroes do not appear on the "Silver Screen," but rather in your own backyard.

13 June 2007

Dedication To Dad

Merritt Anderson ("Dan") Boone (April 27, 1920-September 29, 1993) Alpha Gamma Rho-Kappa Chapter Lincoln, Nebraska

Much of Merritt Anderson ("Dan") Boone's early years were spent in Nebraska. He was born in Geneva, Nebraska, on April 27, 1920. He received his B.S. degree in Agriculture from the University of Nebraska in 1941. While at the university, he joined the Cornhusker Band, was a member of the Poultry Science Judging Team, and was a member of the Dairy Products Judging Team. In addition, he joined Kappa Chapter of Alpha Gamma Rho and became their 295th initiate.

The years following his undergraduate education were spent in Oregon, Michigan, South Carolina, and Georgia. During World War II, Dan worked in the Veterinary Corps as a meat inspector in Redmond, Oregon, and later as milk and milk products inspector for Kearns Air Force Base in Salt Lake City, Utah. Following the war, he went to East Lansing, Michigan, attended Michigan State University and received his Master of Science degree in Poultry Nutrition in 1947. In the same year, he accepted a job with Clemson College (now Clemson University) in Clemson, South Carolina, in the Poultry Science Department. Eleven years later, Dan went back to school, this time to the University of Georgia in Athens, Georgia, to obtain his Ph.D. in Poultry Physiology. (Dr. J. Clyde Driggers [Grand President of Alpha Gamma Rho 1968-1970] was Chairman of the Poultry Science Department during Brother Boone's tenure at the University of Georgia.)

Brother Boone published over 130 scientific articles and abstracts in his 33-year career. During this time, he trained 12 graduate students. His research included some of the first thyroid studies in poultry as well as developing a method to harvest DNA from fowl semen. In addition, he demonstrated the gross abnormalities in chickens when they were exposed to thalidomide. (A similar event occurred when English women took the drug as a sedative during pregnancy.) Brother Boone built some of the first, if not the first, environmental chambers in the world in order to study the effects of heat stress on the physiology of chickens. Furthermore, he was a pioneer in the shell-less culture of chicken embryos. This technique is used widely to study changes in embryonic development when environmental conditions are altered. Brother Boone even studied electrophysiological properties of hearing and vocalization in the domestic chicken.

(Continues...)

Excerpted from Increasing The Radiusby William R. Boone Copyright © 2012 by William R. Boone. Excerpted by permission of AuthorHouse. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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