So there I was, minding my own business, when…my mind began working overtime.

This can be a dangerous situation, for sure, but this time my mind was working on family stories which are fun or with a bit of humor involved.

Uncle Vertis supplies meat to family

During the depression my mother and her family, along with her cousins, uncles, aunts and other family members, lived near Goble, Oregon, just east of Rainier. One uncle was Uncle Vertis Thomas. One day the sheriff stopped at his house.

“Vertis, I have received word you and the boys have been poaching deer,” The sheriff said.

“Well, I have a steer hanging,” Uncle Vertis said.

“Mind if I look in the woodshed?” the sheriff asked.

“Not at all,” Vertis said, “go ahead.”

The sheriff opened the woodshed door. Inside were three deer carcasses.

“Looks like beef to me,” he said.

The sheriff knew Uncle Vertis was supplying meat to the extended family, which included Golda and Ray Grimshaw and their nine children, his own family of the same number, along with three or four more family groups.

Note: Poaching today is not necessary, with all of the food available in the stores and the food banks. However, during the depression, food was difficult to find and money was also in short supply.

If poaching was ever justifiable, it was during the depression when people were starving.

Distance between them increased

This is a true story, folks. Read on. One day my grandparents, Golda and Ray Grimshaw, were traveling from Portland, Ore. to Moses Lake. Also traveling the same route, but in a different vehicle was another family group.

Golda and Ray started off first and the second vehicle a little later, perhaps an hour or so. The idea was to have the second group catch up with the first and then they would travel together.

A couple of hours later, Grandpa decided it was time for a cup of coffee and pulled into a convenience store. This was when the second vehicle passed the first.

The second vehicle began driving a bit faster in order to catch up to the first one. The first vehicle began driving slower, so the second one could catch up.

This situation continued for several hours, with the distance between the two vehicles growing by the minute. When both vehicles realized something was amiss, they stopped and sought help. It took the state patrol to unite the two vehicles.

There is a slim chance this circumstance would/could happen today, with cell phones and texting so available.

Smoking is dangerous to your health

This story has a bit of seriousness to it, but there is a bit of humor as well. Read on.

My father told me a story he read in a newspaper years ago. It seems two drivers were transporting a body in a hearse from one state to another.

It was a long drive, so the men would take turns at the wheel. They stopped at a convenience store for gas and one wanted a cup of coffee. A hitchhiker approached the one working the gas pump while the other was in the store buying coffee.

“Can I catch a ride with you?” the hitchhiker asked.

“Sure, but you will need to ride in the back with the casket, as there is no more room up front,” the driver at the gas pump said.

The second driver returned and took over the driving responsibilities, unaware of the live body in the back.

After traveling several miles, the hitchhiker opened the small window between the front and back of the hearse and said, “Say, is it OK if I smoke back here?”

The ensuing accident was serious, with injuries suffered by all three.

Grandma was a hunter

Not everyone has a grandma who shot herself in the foot, but I do. Read on.

My grandmother, Golda Thomas Grimshaw, was a good shot. She was also a hunter. Golda was born in Iatan, Missouri and, at a young age, she moved to Oklahoma with her parents, two sisters and one brother.

She was also a good shot.

“Once a neighbor questioned my shooting ability and leaned a silver dollar in the branch of a tree,” she said. “He told me if I could hit the coin, I could have it.”

She hit the center of the coin.

“I kept it for years, but don’t know where it is now,” she told me.

She would supply the family with meat, mostly cottontail rabbits. She cleaned the animals and placed them in a snow bank, which acted as a refrigerator/freezer.

“One day I had a handful of rabbits in one hand and my .22 in the other,” she said. “I decided to switch the rifle to my other hand and, in process, shot myself in the foot.”

“Oh come on, really?” I said.

Grandma slipped off her shoe and pointed to a round spot on her foot.

“The bullet, a .22 short, went between the bones of my toes and stuck in my shoe.

Let’s hear your family stories

These family stories have been passed down from generation to generation in our family as a part of our history. Let’s hear some of your family stories.