L. Wayne Stewart
This novel follows a selected series of accidents, incidents, coincidences, and random decisions that happened during the course of a cotton harvest on an early nineteenth century East, Texas cotton plantation. The intent is to show how a series of random events entirely changed the social and spiritual relationship between slaves, slave groups and non-slaves in the United States.
The author was born and raised on his family's farm located in Red River County, North East, Texas. He attended elementary and grade school in his home town, Fulbright, Texas. After graduating from grade school he attended Cheatham High School in Clarksville, Texas where he graduated with honors.
The author has degrees from Northwest Christian college, Eugene, Oregon (B.A.); Brite Divinity School. Fort Worth, Texas(M. Div.), and a D. Div. from Northwest Christian College, Eugene, Oregon.
He and his wife, of the past forty-five years, Evelyn Jones-Stewart, from Paris, Texas, have five grown children and thirteen grand children.
The author's favorite past time is telling tall Texas tales in his native East, Texas language.
THE SLIP
Once upon a time, on an early fall morning down in the Big Woods section of deep East,
Texas, Young Master B.R. Gilmore, Jr., Old Master Born Rich Gilmore, Sr.’s only white son, rode along on His young stallion Dollar checking the cotton fields of His two thousand acre plantation. Young Master Gilmore inherited the plantation when Old Master Gilmore, Sr. died from the “dropsy” a few weeks earlier.
Today marked the very first time the Young Master had inspected His domain. A person would have known from the picture He made that morning, riding along tall in the saddle, wearing His tan ridding britches and brown riding jacket, with the tip toes of His shinning brown riding boots in the saddle stirrups, and His big brown felt riding hat cocked down over His left eye, that He was the Master of the entire Gilmore place.
Young Master Gilmore was a tall, lean, muscular fellow in His early thirties. He had a head full of long, thick, well-kept brown hair. A very handsome face set off by two big, bright brown eyes and a big wide smile that revealed a mouth full of almost perfect white teeth.
The only blemish on His face was a little scar above His left eye made a few years back by a fancy woman up in Fort Worth who hit Him upside the head with an ash trey after He made a loud, drunken remark, in public, about the size of her rear end and the smell of one of her private body parts.
The little scar added the bit of rugged characteristic needed to prevent Him from looking like a baby faced kid. But the truth was, every one who knew Him from His public actions, specially after He had gotten His belly full of corn whisky, knew He was just about as far from being a baby faced kid as a rattlesnake was from being an angle. His overall appearance that morning was greatly enhanced by the bright glow from His big brown eyes as He looked out over the lush cotton fields of His two thousand acre plantation.
One would have been hard pressed to decide which made a prettier picture that morning. Was it the Young Master riding along on His young stallion in all of His fineness? Or, was it the two thousand acre plantation consisting of some of the finest cotton land in all of East,
