Page 6 - Amarillo Senior Link Magazine Summer 2020- Online Magazine
P. 6

Artist, Bob Lile

          IN HIS OWN WORDS

          I entered life on June
          7, 1940 in Perryton,
          TX, born the middle
          child of Jesse and
          Vada (Morgan) Lile.
          Dad had worked for
          50 cents a day during
          the Depression and
          “dirty thirties”, hanging
          telephone line in the
          Oklahoma Panhandle.
          When the US joined
          WWII, my family
          moved to Wichita,
          Kansas where my
          father worked for Beech
          Aircraft and joined
          the National Guard.
          We lived in a housing
          project of apartments
          converted from military
          barracks.  I got in
          trouble a lot.
                                              old, I would sit on the front row   Since no houses were available
          My mother listened to the radio     of church with the older boys and   in Booker, Dad, my grandad and
          and sang along while dad was        sing.  Even at that age, I could    some friends found an old wooden
          at work, so I learned the words     harmonize to almost any song.       granary in the country, cut it in
          to lots of songs.  I used to stand   Much later, I sang Barbershop      two, and hauled it to town.  They
          on the stoop and sing, and the      Harmony with Amarillo’s Golden      put it back together, added a room
          lady across from us would listen.    Spread Chorus and the Wizards of   with some used lumber, and that
          She called me “Frankie Sinatra”,    Harmony Chorus in the Oklahoma      was our home.
          and I called her “Stinky Pot Mrs.   Panhandle.
          Brown”.  She bought me a black                                          The summer before I started
          clip-on bow tie.                    At the end of the war, we moved     school, I met several boys my age.
                                              back to Booker, in the Texas        Some of their mothers worked,
          Dad helped start a church on        Panhandle.  My dad worked as        so they were free to roam the
          Poplar Avenue and, on our way       a mechanic for his brother-in-      streets and alleys.  One of them
          back and forth, we drove by the     law’s Chevrolet dealership.  We     cussed like a sailor.  My mother
          apple cider vinegar plant.  I really   rented a shack in Huntoon with no   would let me go to the dealership
          loved that smell.  At four years    running water and an outhouse.      to see my dad but warned me

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