Ken Brawley

Welcome Home, Son Ken Brawley

"OUT YONDER? OUT %$ING YONDER? WHERE THE HELL IS OUT YONDER AND WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU FROM?" "Right over there (pointing) that big clearing up there on the side of that hill. Let's send Dickson out there with a white flag and see if we can get him like a tree. Bet I can bust his ass with one shot, if you will order him to stand still. Roscoe, Texas" "YOU'RE FROM ROSCOE, TEXAS?" "Aw, come on Sir, don't tell me you have actually heard of Roscoe, hell, Rand McNally never heard of it." Capt. Robert Willis of Ruidosa, New Mexico was speechless. But just for a moment. Shaking his head, "%$ING ROSCOE, TEXAS, I DON'T BELIEVE THIS, I USE TO DRIVE THROUGH THAT WIDE SPOT WITH A GRAIN ELEVATOR ON THE WAY TO COLLEGE STATION." At the mention of College Station, a silly grin slowly spread across my face. He saw this and just about exploded. "GO AHEAD BRAWLEY, MAKE MY DAY, JUST ONE LITTLE AGGIE JOKE AND BY GOD, I WILL HAVE YOU SHOT. GET OUT OF MY SIGHT BEFORE I DO IT ANYWAY." I almost saluted before going back inside the center but figured that might indeed be the straw to ruin a fairly good camel.