Newspaper clipping on life of William "Bradley" ADCOCK. The Daily Citizen,Searcy, Arkansas 1 Aug 1982
He's William Bradley (sic.) Adcock, 95 -- He's full of life, a great storyteller
By Peggy Webb - Society Editor
Happy. Witty. Still full of life, and a great storyteller. That could be the description of William Bradley Adcock ( or W.B. as his friends call him).
The Searcian is always chuckling about something, usually while telling about an experience that has happened in his life. And the experiences he does have. Ninety-five years of them to be exact. Some of them he remembers as if it were yesterday --like, 1890, when he was a little boy of three -- and decided he would go off to see his grandma and Aunt Gats.
"My father and mother lived on a farm about a mile and a half South of Clay," began the friendly old gentleman, "and I had a grandmother and an Aunt Gats who lived between Pangburn and Clay. I decided I would go off to see my grandma and aunt, so started walking down the road.
"After you went down the road a piece," he continued, there was the road that led to grandma's house and a road that led to Grub Town. Well, when I got nearly to the road to grandma's house, a man by the name of Hick Dickins came by on a mule. When I saw him go by I thought, 'I'm not sure what road to take, but he's going to grandma's so I'll follow him'. I figured anyone I saw would be going to grandma's house too. He went to Grub Town. In the meantime, here came my parents, out on a horse, tracking me like they would track a fox -- they were following my little footprints. Yep, I remember that like it was yesterday."
His memory isn't as clear when you ask him how long he was married (his wife died six years ago). At least, at first it seems as if it is not clear, but then, after talking with him for a while, one begins to wonder if maybe his sense of humor is taking over, and he is really putting you on. When asked about his married life he quipped, "Well -- I've never really figured it up. We married when I was 20 years old and she died in 1976 and I'm 95 now."
But whenever the kindly old fellow talks about his "Etta Rainey – a girl who was raised in Oil Trough Bottoms", he does so with much affection. "She was only 16 when she married me," he reminisced. "Sweet 16 and a mighty pretty girl."
Adcock, who was born July 27, 1887, has lived in White County nearly all his life. He says he did live in "Texas for a while, but didn't stay long." He was born at Clay and got married at Clay. About a year after his marriage, he moved to Pangburn at the age of 21. He lived there for "28 or 30 years" and then moved to Searcy, where he has lived for the past 40 years.
The spry old man says he farmed most of his life, but the last job he had was "in the 60s working for the Cappelena Processing Plant in Searcy. When the plant went broke and was closed by the bank, Adcock decided he would phase out of the working scene also and let the younger fellows take over. He was 68.
"I signed up for social security when I was 65," he explained, "but I didn't start drawing it until I was 68. I drew back pay of about $300 to start me off, and from that time on I've just been getting old and drawing social security!"
One might not think him to be so old if he or she were to have seen him one day last winter. His water line froze and broke. He donned some warm clothes, crawled under the house to find out where the line broke, took it apart, walked to the store, bought the equipment needed, and put in a new line. He was 94.
One might conclude that Adcock is in good health because he takes special care of himself. He does. All by himself.
A dentist? He's never been to one. When a tooth hurts or gets loose, he just snaps out his old wire pliers and pulls it himself. "Yeah it hurts when I pull it, but it don't bother me none," he said. "And why should I go to a dentist when I can do it quicker than if I were to get up and go to one?"
But surely he goes to the doctor? "Yeah," he said with a smile, "I go to the doctor -- I was at one about 20 years ago."
Adcock fixes all of his own meals, laughingly saying "I can beat any woman around with my cooking!" After breakfast, in the summertime, he goes outside to sit under his favorite shade tree. If it's wintertime, he'll "get next to the stove and warm my feet and listen to my cassette tapes on the Bible."
His front yard is full of flowers, which he takes care of, and he has a garden. He even has a little squirrel house about 20 feet up in a tree. He keeps a ladder leaned against the tree, and, when needed, climbs up the ladder and places some nuts for the squirrels to feast upon.
The Adcocks were the parents of six children -- five of whom are still alive -- Leda, Lois, Lola, Lillian and W. Gene. The only one living in White County is Lillian, who lives in Judsonia. She says that her dad knows he can come live with her at any time -- he just has to say the word. But he doesn't want to. He likes to be independent and doesn't want to be a bother to anyone.
A bother? No way. He's a blessing.
He's William Bradley (sic.) Adcock, 95 -- He's full of life, a great storyteller
By Peggy Webb - Society Editor
Happy. Witty. Still full of life, and a great storyteller. That could be the description of William Bradley Adcock ( or W.B. as his friends call him).
The Searcian is always chuckling about something, usually while telling about an experience that has happened in his life. And the experiences he does have. Ninety-five years of them to be exact. Some of them he remembers as if it were yesterday --like, 1890, when he was a little boy of three -- and decided he would go off to see his grandma and Aunt Gats.
"My father and mother lived on a farm about a mile and a half South of Clay," began the friendly old gentleman, "and I had a grandmother and an Aunt Gats who lived between Pangburn and Clay. I decided I would go off to see my grandma and aunt, so started walking down the road.
"After you went down the road a piece," he continued, there was the road that led to grandma's house and a road that led to Grub Town. Well, when I got nearly to the road to grandma's house, a man by the name of Hick Dickins came by on a mule. When I saw him go by I thought, 'I'm not sure what road to take, but he's going to grandma's so I'll follow him'. I figured anyone I saw would be going to grandma's house too. He went to Grub Town. In the meantime, here came my parents, out on a horse, tracking me like they would track a fox -- they were following my little footprints. Yep, I remember that like it was yesterday."
His memory isn't as clear when you ask him how long he was married (his wife died six years ago). At least, at first it seems as if it is not clear, but then, after talking with him for a while, one begins to wonder if maybe his sense of humor is taking over, and he is really putting you on. When asked about his married life he quipped, "Well -- I've never really figured it up. We married when I was 20 years old and she died in 1976 and I'm 95 now."
But whenever the kindly old fellow talks about his "Etta Rainey – a girl who was raised in Oil Trough Bottoms", he does so with much affection. "She was only 16 when she married me," he reminisced. "Sweet 16 and a mighty pretty girl."
Adcock, who was born July 27, 1887, has lived in White County nearly all his life. He says he did live in "Texas for a while, but didn't stay long." He was born at Clay and got married at Clay. About a year after his marriage, he moved to Pangburn at the age of 21. He lived there for "28 or 30 years" and then moved to Searcy, where he has lived for the past 40 years.
The spry old man says he farmed most of his life, but the last job he had was "in the 60s working for the Cappelena Processing Plant in Searcy. When the plant went broke and was closed by the bank, Adcock decided he would phase out of the working scene also and let the younger fellows take over. He was 68.
"I signed up for social security when I was 65," he explained, "but I didn't start drawing it until I was 68. I drew back pay of about $300 to start me off, and from that time on I've just been getting old and drawing social security!"
One might not think him to be so old if he or she were to have seen him one day last winter. His water line froze and broke. He donned some warm clothes, crawled under the house to find out where the line broke, took it apart, walked to the store, bought the equipment needed, and put in a new line. He was 94.
One might conclude that Adcock is in good health because he takes special care of himself. He does. All by himself.
A dentist? He's never been to one. When a tooth hurts or gets loose, he just snaps out his old wire pliers and pulls it himself. "Yeah it hurts when I pull it, but it don't bother me none," he said. "And why should I go to a dentist when I can do it quicker than if I were to get up and go to one?"
But surely he goes to the doctor? "Yeah," he said with a smile, "I go to the doctor -- I was at one about 20 years ago."
Adcock fixes all of his own meals, laughingly saying "I can beat any woman around with my cooking!" After breakfast, in the summertime, he goes outside to sit under his favorite shade tree. If it's wintertime, he'll "get next to the stove and warm my feet and listen to my cassette tapes on the Bible."
His front yard is full of flowers, which he takes care of, and he has a garden. He even has a little squirrel house about 20 feet up in a tree. He keeps a ladder leaned against the tree, and, when needed, climbs up the ladder and places some nuts for the squirrels to feast upon.
The Adcocks were the parents of six children -- five of whom are still alive -- Leda, Lois, Lola, Lillian and W. Gene. The only one living in White County is Lillian, who lives in Judsonia. She says that her dad knows he can come live with her at any time -- he just has to say the word. But he doesn't want to. He likes to be independent and doesn't want to be a bother to anyone.
A bother? No way. He's a blessing.
Newspaper clipping on life of William "Bradley" ADCOCK. The Daily Citizen,Searcy, Arkansas 1 Aug 1982
He's William Bradley (sic.) Adcock, 95 -- He's full of life, a great storyteller
By Peggy Webb - Society Editor
Happy. Witty. Still full of life, and a great storyteller. That could be the description of William Bradley Adcock ( or W.B. as his friends call him).
The Searcian is always chuckling about something, usually while telling about an experience that has happened in his life. And the experiences he does have. Ninety-five years of them to be exact. Some of them he remembers as if it were yesterday --like, 1890, when he was a little boy of three -- and decided he would go off to see his grandma and Aunt Gats.
"My father and mother lived on a farm about a mile and a half South of Clay," began the friendly old gentleman, "and I had a grandmother and an Aunt Gats who lived between Pangburn and Clay. I decided I would go off to see my grandma and aunt, so started walking down the road.
"After you went down the road a piece," he continued, there was the road that led to grandma's house and a road that led to Grub Town. Well, when I got nearly to the road to grandma's house, a man by the name of Hick Dickins came by on a mule. When I saw him go by I thought, 'I'm not sure what road to take, but he's going to grandma's so I'll follow him'. I figured anyone I saw would be going to grandma's house too. He went to Grub Town. In the meantime, here came my parents, out on a horse, tracking me like they would track a fox -- they were following my little footprints. Yep, I remember that like it was yesterday."
His memory isn't as clear when you ask him how long he was married (his wife died six years ago). At least, at first it seems as if it is not clear, but then, after talking with him for a while, one begins to wonder if maybe his sense of humor is taking over, and he is really putting you on. When asked about his married life he quipped, "Well -- I've never really figured it up. We married when I was 20 years old and she died in 1976 and I'm 95 now."
But whenever the kindly old fellow talks about his "Etta Rainey – a girl who was raised in Oil Trough Bottoms", he does so with much affection. "She was only 16 when she married me," he reminisced. "Sweet 16 and a mighty pretty girl."
Adcock, who was born July 27, 1887, has lived in White County nearly all his life. He says he did live in "Texas for a while, but didn't stay long." He was born at Clay and got married at Clay. About a year after his marriage, he moved to Pangburn at the age of 21. He lived there for "28 or 30 years" and then moved to Searcy, where he has lived for the past 40 years.
The spry old man says he farmed most of his life, but the last job he had was "in the 60s working for the Cappelena Processing Plant in Searcy. When the plant went broke and was closed by the bank, Adcock decided he would phase out of the working scene also and let the younger fellows take over. He was 68.
"I signed up for social security when I was 65," he explained, "but I didn't start drawing it until I was 68. I drew back pay of about $300 to start me off, and from that time on I've just been getting old and drawing social security!"
One might not think him to be so old if he or she were to have seen him one day last winter. His water line froze and broke. He donned some warm clothes, crawled under the house to find out where the line broke, took it apart, walked to the store, bought the equipment needed, and put in a new line. He was 94.
One might conclude that Adcock is in good health because he takes special care of himself. He does. All by himself.
A dentist? He's never been to one. When a tooth hurts or gets loose, he just snaps out his old wire pliers and pulls it himself. "Yeah it hurts when I pull it, but it don't bother me none," he said. "And why should I go to a dentist when I can do it quicker than if I were to get up and go to one?"
But surely he goes to the doctor? "Yeah," he said with a smile, "I go to the doctor -- I was at one about 20 years ago."
Adcock fixes all of his own meals, laughingly saying "I can beat any woman around with my cooking!" After breakfast, in the summertime, he goes outside to sit under his favorite shade tree. If it's wintertime, he'll "get next to the stove and warm my feet and listen to my cassette tapes on the Bible."
His front yard is full of flowers, which he takes care of, and he has a garden. He even has a little squirrel house about 20 feet up in a tree. He keeps a ladder leaned against the tree, and, when needed, climbs up the ladder and places some nuts for the squirrels to feast upon.
The Adcocks were the parents of six children -- five of whom are still alive -- Leda, Lois, Lola, Lillian and W. Gene. The only one living in White County is Lillian, who lives in Judsonia. She says that her dad knows he can come live with her at any time -- he just has to say the word. But he doesn't want to. He likes to be independent and doesn't want to be a bother to anyone.
A bother? No way. He's a blessing.
He's William Bradley (sic.) Adcock, 95 -- He's full of life, a great storyteller
By Peggy Webb - Society Editor
Happy. Witty. Still full of life, and a great storyteller. That could be the description of William Bradley Adcock ( or W.B. as his friends call him).
The Searcian is always chuckling about something, usually while telling about an experience that has happened in his life. And the experiences he does have. Ninety-five years of them to be exact. Some of them he remembers as if it were yesterday --like, 1890, when he was a little boy of three -- and decided he would go off to see his grandma and Aunt Gats.
"My father and mother lived on a farm about a mile and a half South of Clay," began the friendly old gentleman, "and I had a grandmother and an Aunt Gats who lived between Pangburn and Clay. I decided I would go off to see my grandma and aunt, so started walking down the road.
"After you went down the road a piece," he continued, there was the road that led to grandma's house and a road that led to Grub Town. Well, when I got nearly to the road to grandma's house, a man by the name of Hick Dickins came by on a mule. When I saw him go by I thought, 'I'm not sure what road to take, but he's going to grandma's so I'll follow him'. I figured anyone I saw would be going to grandma's house too. He went to Grub Town. In the meantime, here came my parents, out on a horse, tracking me like they would track a fox -- they were following my little footprints. Yep, I remember that like it was yesterday."
His memory isn't as clear when you ask him how long he was married (his wife died six years ago). At least, at first it seems as if it is not clear, but then, after talking with him for a while, one begins to wonder if maybe his sense of humor is taking over, and he is really putting you on. When asked about his married life he quipped, "Well -- I've never really figured it up. We married when I was 20 years old and she died in 1976 and I'm 95 now."
But whenever the kindly old fellow talks about his "Etta Rainey – a girl who was raised in Oil Trough Bottoms", he does so with much affection. "She was only 16 when she married me," he reminisced. "Sweet 16 and a mighty pretty girl."
Adcock, who was born July 27, 1887, has lived in White County nearly all his life. He says he did live in "Texas for a while, but didn't stay long." He was born at Clay and got married at Clay. About a year after his marriage, he moved to Pangburn at the age of 21. He lived there for "28 or 30 years" and then moved to Searcy, where he has lived for the past 40 years.
The spry old man says he farmed most of his life, but the last job he had was "in the 60s working for the Cappelena Processing Plant in Searcy. When the plant went broke and was closed by the bank, Adcock decided he would phase out of the working scene also and let the younger fellows take over. He was 68.
"I signed up for social security when I was 65," he explained, "but I didn't start drawing it until I was 68. I drew back pay of about $300 to start me off, and from that time on I've just been getting old and drawing social security!"
One might not think him to be so old if he or she were to have seen him one day last winter. His water line froze and broke. He donned some warm clothes, crawled under the house to find out where the line broke, took it apart, walked to the store, bought the equipment needed, and put in a new line. He was 94.
One might conclude that Adcock is in good health because he takes special care of himself. He does. All by himself.
A dentist? He's never been to one. When a tooth hurts or gets loose, he just snaps out his old wire pliers and pulls it himself. "Yeah it hurts when I pull it, but it don't bother me none," he said. "And why should I go to a dentist when I can do it quicker than if I were to get up and go to one?"
But surely he goes to the doctor? "Yeah," he said with a smile, "I go to the doctor -- I was at one about 20 years ago."
Adcock fixes all of his own meals, laughingly saying "I can beat any woman around with my cooking!" After breakfast, in the summertime, he goes outside to sit under his favorite shade tree. If it's wintertime, he'll "get next to the stove and warm my feet and listen to my cassette tapes on the Bible."
His front yard is full of flowers, which he takes care of, and he has a garden. He even has a little squirrel house about 20 feet up in a tree. He keeps a ladder leaned against the tree, and, when needed, climbs up the ladder and places some nuts for the squirrels to feast upon.
The Adcocks were the parents of six children -- five of whom are still alive -- Leda, Lois, Lola, Lillian and W. Gene. The only one living in White County is Lillian, who lives in Judsonia. She says that her dad knows he can come live with her at any time -- he just has to say the word. But he doesn't want to. He likes to be independent and doesn't want to be a bother to anyone.
A bother? No way. He's a blessing.
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