Charlie Reece was a building contractor with a business in Houston, Texas. One summer, between my sophomore and junior years of high school, I rode the train to Houston and worked for him. Having never worked on a construction site before, I pulled some good stunts, which resulted in a lot of teasing. On the first morning at work, I was told to “wet down the boards,” which referred to the boards that the mortar was placed on. Not knowing any better, I started wetting down the boards on the scaffolding that the workers stood on. Yep, everyone got a good laugh out of that one.

One day I noticed that this black man, who was a key employee on the job, was opening his cigarette pack from the bottom. He didn’t use the zip string at the top to remove the cellophane; he just dug through the cellophane and paper on the bottom of the pack. When I ask him why, he replied, “Because white men open the top.”

 We ate burgers at a small drive-in, and I remember playing “Honey Don’t,” by Carl Perkins several times on the jukebox.

 Aunt Billie Jean and Uncle Charlie were very nice: they always treated me well. Charlie was a church elder and trustee – He built their church building. One Sunday, the pastor of their church said, “Smoking won’t send you to hell, just make you smell like hell.” That's the only thing I remember about his sermons.