Winter cold, freezing temperatures, snow falling, my adventures in Arkansas in February 1947 get off to a rousing start.
Newspaper headlines read: “Another Great Cotner Is Born”
Actually, I admit I can’t quite recall what the weather was like when I was born but I remember Dad telling me that’s the way it was. And, that really wasn’t the headlines screaming across any of the pages of the Booneville Democrat in 1947.
It was more like a small notice in the ‘Birth Announcement’ section tucked away under advertisements for a gallon of gas for 15 cents, a loaf of bread for 13 cents and the Post Office reminder that a stamp was still 3 cents. Not important enough for the front page, buried behind the printed words extolling the virtues, prices and whereabouts of chicken feed, fishing bait, shotgun shells, a good hunting dog and ladies unmentionables, behind all that resided the little gem concerning me that probably read something like this:
Artie ‘Jack’ Cotner and his wife, Audrey, are pleased to announce the arrival of their son, Jack…”
No screaming headlines and probably with good reason. However, I’m sure the event was at least that important to me, after all, I was screaming when I arrived.
And, so, began my life in Arkansas and my journey as part of the Cotner family.