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In his autobiography, Mark Twain stated, In the small town of Hannibal, Missouri, when I was a boy, everybody was poor but didn’t know it, and everybody was comfortable and did know it. This comment certainly applied to Cleburne, Texas, where Reed grew up from the mid-1940s through the 1950s. At least this was true on his side of town, northeast Cleburne across the Santa Fe railroad tracks. He lived on Sabine Street, and it was still just graveled even when he graduated from high school in 1959. Just about everybody on his street still had outdoor johns even then. Reed has been writing bimonthly articles for his hometown newspaper, the Cleburne Times-Review, since 2016, detailing the zany escapades, ludicrous stunts, and laughable situations he would place himself in from time to time as regular as clockwork. Mix a gullible youngster with a prankster of an uncle and a daredevil father, and anything goes. The incidents were many: a broken arm from falling off a donkey that his Uncle O. B. placed him on, a sore head from attempting to butt down a door after drinking what his uncle said was goat’s milk, being put in a jail cell at the age of twelve for stealing a thirty-five-cent wheel bearing for his bicycle, proving pathetic both as a fighter and a football player, he and two friends smoking an entire carton of Luckies in two and a half hours. The list is interminable. Unfortunately, as he grew older, he really did not outgrow this propensity for absurdity but continued to demonstrate it on a frequent basis as his family would agree.
