Anonymous
The first time I met Mrs. Cravens (I was always formal with Mr. and Mrs. Cravens, I did not call them by their first names) was back in 1965. I was an Airman from Forbes Air Force Base in Topeka, Kansas (200 - 300 miles away) and just showed up one night at their farm without calling ahead. I had met their oldest daughter Patty a few months prior in California, so after basic training at Lackland AFB and receiving orders for Forbes, I thought I would surprise them (I was young and stupid, I should have called ahead). I remember it was very dark (no street lights), dogs started barking and Mr. Cravens shouted, "What do you want? Who are you"? When I told them my name, they invited me in and treated me like their son. For the next year and a half, I visited on weekends. One weekend I remember chopping wood with Mr. Cravens - he was a farmer, carpenter and on some Sundays Preacher; but, the best part of visiting was enjoying Mrs. Craven's cooking. To this day, I feel Mrs. Cravens cooked the best meals ever. I live in California now; however, I think it's time to pay my respects to a Wonderful Caring Person and her husband. In two weeks, I'm flying to Springfield. Mo., driving to Mansfield, Mo. and drive by the old farm (I hear the farm house has been torn down), then on to the cemetery.##imported-begin##Tim Farnham##imported-end##