Dad & Mom, David, Wayne & Doug; About 1947

The Youngest Three Boys: 1947

From Left To Right:

Clifton John, David John, Frances Marietta, Wayne Morris, Douglas Maynard.

At The House In Gilboa When Dad Was The Gilboa Town Superintendent

Doug & I Hunting Woodchucks

Hunting Woodchucks


Doug & I
Hunting Woodchucks

Doug and I took Dad’s old car out hunting one spring day
To hunt woodchucks with a .22 on the road toward Conesville way
Me fourteen and Doug was ten in a Buick ‘38
An old pump action .22 with the feed tube not quite straight

No air bags, seat belts, padded dash, soft steering wheels back then
Just a metal box and rigid steel, cast iron and plated tin
We started over the “cross” road, the day was bright and still
Turned right by Raymond Goodfellows then on down Fancher’s hill

Doug was fooling with the gun trying to load some shells
As we came up to Bob Cammer’s place, that farm he kept so well
As I looked over toward the gun and turned my head to see
I drove that damned old Buick straight into a big Oak tree

The horn popped out and hit my face, the steering wheel jammed my chest
And Doug bounced off that metal dash, then all just came to rest
Smoke and steam poured from the hood, the motor screaming, rough
Then I reached down and found the key and turned that damned thing off

Alton Brand was driving by and stopped and pulled us out
He said, “ It was the damndest thing I’d seen or thought about.”
“That car was going down the road as straight as straight can be
“It didn’t brake or make a curve, just drove into that tree”

The State Police came out that night to make out their report
Dad had to say I stole that car to keep us out of court
The trooper took me to the porch and said his terse, brusque talk
“The next time you go hunting things, I think you’d better walk”

So at aged 14 I’d wrecked a car and hurt my brother’s eyes
And I guess the thing I think about as years & months fly by
Malaria, bike accidents, close calls in cars and trucks
Living long and getting old takes lots and lots of luck

Hayden's First Wedding & Tuxedo: 7.1.06

Hayden's First Wedding & Tuxedo

The Oneonta Daily Star, December 20, 1955

GILBOA--"Off The Track," a comedy in three acts by Felicia Metcalf, was given by the class of 1956.

The cast included David Kispaugh, Gerald Hubbard, Mary Clark, Betty Snyder, Lucy Roe, Camilla Acello, Cosma DeSalvo, Charles Wyckoff, William Drebitko, Walter Micha, Rose Brainard, Bonnie Brown and Joan Marquit.

Here is a synopsis of the play I got off the Internet: I play Silas Dobbins.

A fascinating group of people are thrown together when a passenger train is derailed and the passengers wait inside for a relief train. The group includes three peppy college girls, a young male law student, a good-natured Italian woman and her two children, and the wealthy, extremely haughty Mrs. Reginald Vanderventer. There is also a nosy old maid, Miss Pidgie McDougal, a peculiar deaf man who has a mysterious old suitcase which he never lets out of his sight (tickling Miss Pidgie’s ever-present curiosity), and an engaged couple. The crowd is thrown into pandemonium when Mrs. Vanderventer discovers that her $10,000 string of pearls is missing, later discovered in Mrs. Guarino’s bag. Bill Lindsay, the prospective lawyer, announces that he is going to hold a preliminary trial and appoints a judge and jury. He will defend Mrs. Guarino. Cleverly, he clears her name and exposes the guilty party just in time for Miss Pidgie to learn about the contents of the mysterious suitcase! One interior set.

OFF THE TRACK
CAST OF CHARACTERS
(5 men, 8 women, extras if desired)

MR. JOHN MORGAN
Station agent, aged about forty works at his desk in his shirt sleeves and vest, wears a
green visor to shade his eyes. He is rather surly at times. Slightly gray, a few lines on
his forehead and at eyes, no rouge.

SILAS DOBBINS Gerry Hubbard
Handy man around the station keeps up the fire, sweeps out, and fills the water
cooler. Aged twenty-five wears old blue overalls and a blue shirt, a railroad cap with
a visor, heavy muddy boots. Hair needs cutting and he needs a shave, lines on
forehead and at eyes, florid complexion.

FLICKIE NELSON
Attractive and peppy college girl aged eighteen. Wears a pretty suit and blouse, long
bob, plenty of lipstick, very little rouge.

BETTY PHILLIPS
Also a college girl, aged eighteen. Clothes, make-up, and hair-do similar to those for
Flickie.

JOAN PARKER
College girl aged eighteen. Clothes, make-up, and hair-do same as for other girls.

MRS. GUARINO Camilla Acello
An Italian woman aged forty good-natured and generous, very fat. Wears a red scarf
over her head, her dress doesn't fit very well, her skirt is gathered all around her
waist, she wears large clumsy looking shoes, and a black coat. Her hair is black and
is combed straight back from her face to a knot on the back of her neck. Her
complexion is sallow-no rouge or lipstick.

ANTONIA GUARINO
Her daughter aged twelve. She has a dirty face and her hair needs combing wears a
plain cotton dress, rusty looking shoes, black hair, sallow complexion, no lipstick or
rouge.

BILL LINDSAY
Attractive and good-looking college student aged twenty, wears a nice looking suit
with sweater, no hat, full of fun a little rouge on cheeks.

MR. OSCAR POZENBY
Aged fifty, hair is gray and becoming bald. He is deaf. He is wearing a badly fitting
suit of clothes. He is quite unsociable heavy lines on forehead and around eyes.

WILLIE WOODSON Billy Drebitkl, I think.
Thin, pale, slight in stature, aged twenty-two wears a nice suit, collar, and tie, very
little rouge.

Many Thanks To Maude Haskins For The News Clipping

Tapping Trees

Tapping Trees

Merel Jr. chopped my finger off when I was eight years old
Betty said her parents almost died when they were told
We thought we’d make some maple syrup that day in early spring
We gathered spigots, augers, hammers, pans, & pails to bring

Out to the woods across the road where lots of maples were
With tag alders and large beech trees, White pine and Douglas fir
Folks used to tap a lot of trees out there when we were young
The biggest sugar bush I knew was Bessie Cleveland’s farm

Ernel Briggs would boil the sap o’er smoky crackling fires
To get that wondrous maple syrup to fulfill our desires
For tastes and smells to make our lives a little bit more sweet
We’d drown our eggs and pancakes in it ‘n make ’em “fit to eat”.

So we gathered some old siding for the fire to boil the sap
The other kids took all the tools to find some trees to tap
Merel Jr. had the axe to swing and I would hold the wood
And move my hand before he hit as quickly as I could

About the second chop or so, all things just went to hell
The axe came down on my right hand and blood began to swell
My right hand middle finger tip hung by a slender strip
The bright white bone was shining through as blood began to drip

Merel Jr screamed and horrified, he grabbed me by the arm
And dragged my through the barn yard crick and up behind the barn
My mother, hearing screams, came out an met us on the lawn
Took Wayne’s clean diaper from the line and wrapped my hand & arm

They took me to Doc Persons, a doc in Lexington
A mustached red faced kind old man, much rumpled and rotund
He took that flopping finger tip and stood it up real straight
And with a splint just wrapped it up with white adhesive tape

Two days later we went back to see that plump old doc
To bar lockjaw, each scrawny arm received 8 tetnus shots
That finger used to throb and ache in weather wet or cold
But all of that evolved away as I got grey and old

Lots of kids got hurt back then on farms their families owned
The most dangerous place for a kid back then was the place that they called home
At Mackey’s Corners, Bobby Mace lost a thumb one day
He got it caught in block and tackle used to draw off hay

I remember him one handed shooting fouls from the line
While the rest of us threw underhand, like Mikan at the time

Now all that’s 60 years ago and if you haven't seen it
When I flip you the finger, you can see I really mean it.

Notes From The Internet:

Tree Tapping - Where It All Begins

Did you know that although Europeans knew how to tap trees, it was the American Indian who discovered how to make maple syrup?

Indians from New England to Canada were producing maple syrup from 1664. The Indians made a sloping cut, or gash, two inches deep and 2-1/2 inches long, in the side of a tree. A knife or wood chip was put into the bottom of the cut so the sap flowed down the cut, onto the knife and into a receptacle on the ground.

The receptacles were made either of bark caulked with pitch or hollowed out logs. By 1765, the settlers changed the Indians' tapping to tree boxing. They trimmed off the bark and chopped a 1/2-inch deep square or rectangular hole into the tree trunk. A sloping trough was put into the tree trunk to take the sap from the hole, or box, to a spout or spile, which led the sap from the trough to a receptacle.

Boring holes in a tree started around 1774.By 1950, the present day tapping was accepted. Spiles are used to direct the flow of sap from the trunk. Originally they were wooden, then the Eureka sap spout, made of galvanized cast iron, took over. It was replaced by metal spiles and buckets and also plastic spiles for plastic or polyethylene tubing.

The Indians used a basket or tub from hollowed out tree bark as a collecting receptacle. They were placed on the snow or ground at the base of the tree. Troughs were used by the colonists until the late 1840's.

Wooden buckets or pails were introduced as early as 1748, but weren't common until much later. Wooden buckets were still used in 1935; then they were replaced by tin-plated buckets because the wooden buckets dried out and leaked if they weren't painted every year.

Bucket covers have been used since 1870 to keep leaves and debris out. Plastic tubing, used since 1965, takes sap directly to a gathering vat or storage tank.

Memorial Day, 2006

In Memory Of The Love And The Lost

The Boys, Their Dad & Their Cars About 1954: Rebuilding The Garage

Top: Clifton LaVerne, David John, Wayne Maurice, Douglas Maynard, Gerald Elmer, Clifton John
Bottom Left: 1952 Studebaker Champion & 1951 Ford, David & Wayne In The Background
Bottom Right: 1952 Studebaker Champion, Gerald In The Background

LaVerne owned the Studebaker, Dad owned the Ford.

One time, Laverne let me use the Studebaker to go to a drive-in movie and when I left, I forgot about the speaker and drove away breaking the driver side window.

The fender skirts and the fins on the Ford were supposed to be cool.......

Carp Diem

Carp Diem

Eugene Carman

Rhodes’s slave! Selling shoes and gingham,
Flour and bacon, overalls, clothing, all day
long
For fourteen hours a day for three hundred and
thirteen days
For more than twenty years,
Saying “Yes’m” and “Yes Sir” and Thank
you”
A thousand times a day, and all for fifty dollars a
month.
Living in this stinking room in the rattle-trap
“Commercial.”
And compelled to go to Sunday School and to
listen
To the Rev. Abner Peet one hundred and four times
a year
For more than an hour at a time,
Because Thomas Rhodes ran the church
As well as the store and the bank.
So while I was tying my neck-tie that morning
I suddenly saw myself in the glass:
My hair all gray, my face like a sodden pie.
So I cursed and cursed: You damned old thing!
You cowardly dog! You rotten pauper!
You Rhode’s slave! Till Roger Baughman
Thought I was having a fight with some one,
And looked over the transom just in time
To see me fall on the floor in a heap
From a broken vein in my head.


From "The Spoon River Anthology", Edgar Lee Masters, 1915

The Peddler

The Peddler

The Peddler

The peddler, an old Jewish man, drove up from New York
He went to church on Saturdays and stayed away from pork.
His dull green Chevy paneled truck was built in ‘32
And he dressed in denim overalls, faded, worn and blue

A real life old time peddler, his route was long and rough
And he drove the Catskill Mountain roads selling all his stuff
Straw hats and jeans and sewing thread, his truck was crammed with goods
And he’d start out high and end up low just like we knew he would

He had a scraggly unkempt beard all sprinkled through with gray
His deep set eyes held a guarded look that never went away
His manners were impeccable, old world genteel and fine
His voice, accented, rumbled low, but always warm and kind

A rolling-dry-goods-hardware-store, he’d show up close to noon
And to keep his faith, for lunch he ate potatoes with a spoon
That old green truck was loaded with his memories and his dreams
As well as kaki shirts and pants and gingham by the ream

He’d always block the tires so his old truck wouldn’t roll
And I bet he had the shadows of old pogroms on his soul
Of all the many millions he knew of one a least
An uncle, brother, nephew, a neighbor or a niece

I heard his wife took her own life in a very painful way
By drinking lye or DDT on a bleak, besotted day
Other’s lives are mysteries we cannot fathom well
I guess she changed a hell to heaven or heaven into hell

We don’t know where he came from and we don’t know where he went
But he still lives in our memories as strange and old and bent
And when I think about him now, I’d really like to know
Would he be surprised we remember him from 60 years ago?

Getting The Cows

Co' Boss

“Co’ Bos, Cooo’ Bos”, we used to call when the cows weren’t at the gate
At the hilltop just below our house, when we were running late
If they weren’t there, we’d walk and run by the “crik” bed up the hill
Through sparkling dew, wet wild flowers and the song bird’s morning trill

Getting up at six o’clock in the morning sun or rain
We had to get the cows and milk before the school bus came
Our cow dog Prince, would bark and swing his broken leg around
As we worked the cows out through the trees and brought them slowly down

The old cow path’s were there before first mule and wagon tracks
And settlers planted buckwheat all through the hills out back
Began by Indians hunting game all through those rolling hills
And I bet in just a little while, I could find them for you still

But we never thought of that back then as we strived to get chores done
Just tried to get those damned cows milked, then school and have some fun
Because the girls were miles away except for those in school
So village kids thought school a drag but rural kids thought it cool

Johnny Goodmonk rode for hours on an old gray Ford farm tractor
To court the girls out in the hills and get what he was after
And so the spring and summer days rolled smoothly into fall
And every day we brought the cows inside and milked them all

One time in school, a teacher said, trying to wound my pride
“Whoever smells like cow manure, I wish you’d go outside.”
I left the class and slowly said, “It’s true I’ve stepped in shit,”
But it’s only on the outside, but you, you’re full of it.”

Prof bounced me from the school again and this time not for smoking
To say teachers were full of it was pretty much verboten
So I got a school vacation for two late springtime days
When I got up each morning, guess what I had to say

You guessed it, “Co Bos, Co Bos” to get the cows to come
And then I worked for two full days hard labor on that farm
But I guess I learned a lesson as I stayed from school those days
Nothing’s often good to do, and always good to say.

The Milk Check

The Milk Check Came Today

Brought up on a dairy farm in the Catskills in New York
We always had enough to eat with beef and veal and pork
With veggies from the garden and milk from Jersey cows
I guess we lived a life style that’s called subsistence now.

But always short of money, we couldn’t buy most things for cash
And there always were a lot more days than dollars in our stash
The milk checks came out twice a month, the fifteenth and the first
And sometimes weeks were not too bad but sometimes weeks were worse

When we needed clothes for senior trips, we usually sold a cow
Which seems so self-defeating when I think about it now
By trading in the future for what we needed right away
The money just got smaller when it came to milk-check day

So we charged some things at Bailey’s Store, then across the road at Cook’s
And we charged our gas at Raymond Brown’s and got by hook or crook
Until our mother softly said, “I guess we now can pay.
“Wally Stryker brought the mail, the milk check came today.”

“The weights are off, the price is wrong, the butter fats too low”
Our Dad would say ‘bout every time in words both loud and slow
So Mom would firmly tell us kids, “Better go outside and play.”
“Your Dad has got to pay the bills, the milk check came today.”

At his battered home-made desk, I still hear and see my Dad
As he pulled old bills from pigeon holes and paid with what he had
The checks he wrote left handed, as he shooed us kids away
Sustained the farm and family when the milk check came that day.

So we milked the cows each morning and we milked the cows each night
In the winter time we shoveled shit, baled hay in summers bright
I think I started planning then so I ‘d never have to say
“I guess we now can pay the bills, the milk check came today.”

So I grubbed my way through college, driving truck and digging ditch
With luck, I got some real good jobs, some folks would call us rich
But I guess I’m only richer now in quite a different way
When long ago I heard these words, “The milk check came today.”

That damned old farm has branded me with thoughts I can’t dispel
And leaves me with these tales & lies I always have to tell
Sometimes at night before I sleep old sounds and words hold sway
Like “fit to eat” & “co’ bos’” & “the milk check came today”……………...

Hayden Clark Hubbard's First Haircut, April, 2006

First Haircut April, 2006, Portland, Oregon.

Siblings With Cousins: 1945

1945 Maryilyn Ann, Douglas Maynard, Paul Ellis, Barry Taylor Gerald Elmer

A Life Time Ago...Mine..

. The Horses: Dick & Dan. The Dog: Vicki. The Kids: Gerald Elmer & Marilyn Ann. Our Father: Clifton John. About 65 Years Ago On Hubbard Hill. Dirt Road, No Electricity, No Bathroom, The Car In The Garage Was Broken Down, In The Middle Of World War II.

Cutting Corn 1940

From left to right: Our father, Clifton J, is on the tractor. Marilyn Ann and I are standing in front of the steel wheel. Uncle Johnny Haskin is in the white shirt and Albert Reed is to the right. My father was 32, younger at the time than both my sons now.

In 1940: Only a third of American farms had electricity. Our's did not. The U.S population was 131.6 million. Only 4.2% of Americans could not read. Fanklin Delano Roosevelt was elected to a third term. The Selective Service System was created by Congress, requiring all American men between the ages of 21 and 36 to register for military service. Walt Disney released Fantasia. Color televison, Jeeps and Bugs Bunny were new. Vermont widow Ida May Fuller received the first Social Security check for $22.14.

At noon on October 1 the Pennsylvania Turnpike, the first modern highway in the United States, opened; local feed-and-tallow dealer Homer D. Romberger takes the first ticket. By October 6 the highway has its first traffic jam.

Ringo Star, Tom Brokaw, Ted Koppel, Peter Fonda, Mario Andretti, Chuck Norris, Anita Bryant, Al Pacino, Ricky Nelson, Mary Jo Kopechne, Martin Sheen, Raquel Welch, John Lennon, Cliff Richards, Bobby Knight, Bruce Lee, Richard Pryor, Gary Gilmore, Dionne Warwick and Frank Zappa were born in 1940.

Leon Trotsky, founder of communism, Robert Pershin Wadlow, the tallest man in the world at the time, and F. Scott Fitzgerald died....and I was two years old.

Click On The Picture For A Larger View.

Frances Marietta Hubbard and Her Three Oldest: Marilyn Ann, Gerald Elmer, & Clifton LaVerne. Probably about 1939 or 1940. 

Last Game At Gilboa Central Talking Blues

Last Game At Gilboa Central Talking Blues

I played four years of basketball for Gilboa Central High

Though surely not a super-star, I pretty much got by
By playing heavy “d” full court press and man to man
My speed and fundamentals made our coach one of my fans

Behind the back with passes, both hands could dribble well
But every time the game got tight, my shots would go to hell
But still I started every game and did outscore my man
But never really hit the “groove” like better players can

Walt Micha was our sixth man who worked hard to excel
Had all the fundamentals, a good “set” shot as well
He always played consistently if games were lost or won
He always was a real nice guy, gentle, kind and fun.

The home game that was next to last, I played my usual time
Then walked my girl friend to her bus, then I walked back to mine.
And then to be about as dumb as dumb young men can get
As I sauntered to my bus, I lit  a cigarette

And just before I climbed aboard I did my best James Dean
And toward the school, I snapped that butt, the flip was high and clean
The fiery sparks lit up the night, “Man”, I thought, “That’s neat!”
Until that cigarette hit down an inch from Coach Hub’s feet

Hub came storming to the bus: “I think you burned my pants.”
“You can’t play basketball and smoke.” “There is no second chance.”
“On Monday, turn your gear in, right now, you’re off the squad.”
So the last game of my senior year, Walt Micha got the nod.

In the bleachers with my girl, I watched the game ensue
As Walter threw up lots of shots and most of them went through
He played the game he knew he could, did everything just right
And most agreed was MVP in the last game on that night

And there I sat a spectator, my senior year’s last game
James Dean, the dark, and the evil weed were all I had to blame
And here’s a thought I can’t put down, no matter how I reason
If Walt had started in my place? We’d have had a better season….

Siblings 1949 Or 50

Gerald Elmer & Marilyn Ann Ready For Marilyn's 8th Grade Graduation. I hated those damned pants.......

Marilyn Ann, Gerald Elmer & Clifton LaVerne

About 1942

A Darker Shade Of Blue

Leonard Haskin worked a farm on top of steep Bull Hill
In a school bus in the winter we all got a special thrill
The road was dirt and narrow, in the winter we used chains
And the muddy ruts would swerve a car in springtime heavy rains.

One winter night in ‘54, we held a sleigh ride there
Boys and girls from school and church all braved the cold night air
All of us made several slides, the girls on top of boys
Enjoying all the bliss and glee of adolescent joys

My first ride with my girlfriend, we almost hit a car
Parked there by Miller’s driveway, we didn’t miss by far
When we walked back up chilled but thrilled from that breathtaking ride
We saw a crowd by that black car parked over on the side.

It seems the couple after us could not see clear in front
And hit right underneath that car , the young girl bore the brunt
We saw them pull a limp girl out, she didn’t move at all
Patty Russell, sixteen years, who’d joined our school that fall

Then Tommy Haskin came in view with lacerated head
Tough as nails and standing tall, his pants & shirt blood-red
Someone called Doc Tepfer, he drove in from Grand Gorge
I remember him in a rumpled suit it seemed he always wore

They loaded Patty in Doc’s car across the seat in back
That pretty girl all crumpled up like something in a sack
The next day in the high school, it was as beneath a pall
No horseplay in the classrooms, it was silent in the halls

All us kids were shocked and dazed and all our feelings numb
When we realized how suddenly an almost-death could come
They took Pat first to Stamford, there was nothing they could do
She stayed awhile in the Gilboa Flats, Hub’s house there, that was blue

Though paralyzed, she married and bore a handsome boy
She wrote and painted with her mouth, brought lots of people joy
Tommy Haskin, well again, joined up in the Marines
Came home from Okinawa, into the local scene

And I guess us kids got over it as young folks always will
But it always comes back clear as glass when I think about Bull Hill
That winter night, the cold crisp air, the crunching of the snow
And how their world completely changed, I guess we’ll never know

What could have been for both of them before things fell apart
And were there happy endings from such unhappy starts
And when I ponder that cold night and what they both went through
It seems I see this damned old world in a darker shade of blue.

Hubbard Hill, Early 50's

Wayne Maurice, David John, Susan Frances, Douglas Maynard, Carol Sylvia

My Biggest Fan

Charlotte Haskin Carlton

In 1956, of the 21 graduates of the class of 1954 from Gilboa Central High, eight were in the Armed Forces and Charlotte was one of them:

Charlotte Haskin, US Navy, Washington, DC
Reginald Haskin, US Army, Korea
Thomas Haskin, US Marines, Okinawa
Marilyn Hubbard, US Marines, Camp Pendleton, CA
Warren Hulett, US Air Force Paratrooper, Germany
Hartford Keith, US Marines
Carl Ledger, US Air Force, France
Arnold Murry, US Air Force.

What Was I Thinking??

Gerald Elmer, about 4 years old

Happy Holidays & Merry Christmas 2005

Christmas 2005

Happy Holidays 2005

We celebrated our grandson’s first birthday in Portland, and our 40th wedding anniversary in Banff.

David moved from California and has joined us in our real estate business.
Craig, Brinton, and Hayden moved from San Francisco to Portland, Oregon.

We will all be together in Madison for Christmas.

The Best To You & Yours,
Gerry & Mary Ann Hubbard

Going Fishin'

Going Fishin'
Marilyn Ann, Gerald Elmer & Clifton Laverne, Mid 1940's

Wayne's Song

Wayne's Song


Wayne’s Song

Wayne Maurice Hubbard passed away, the youngest of five boys
Who with three sibling sisters, brought the Clifton Hubbards joy

Born in 1946, a baby of the “boom”
Came to life in Cobleskill in a dim-lit birthing room

He lived his first years in Gilboa in deep, post-war depression
When young, he dressed in hand-me-downs as the last boy in succession.

Then we moved up to the farm, a place we called “The Hill”
And lived as dairy farmers, with rocky slopes to till.

One day he hit two hammers, steel splinter in his eye
I remember him just blinking and I didn’t see him cry

Another time he hit his head, rope swinging in the barn
And he said, “I think I’m crazy,” his eyes wide with alarm

He loved to sing and harmonize with a voice both sweet and true
He performed one time at the World’s Fair with sisters Carol and Sue

He was a loving boy and man, quick wit and smile so bright
And I’ve got a picture of him as he helped me fix my bike.

I went to see him one last time in north Virginia foliage
He said, “You know, I lived too fast, I should’ve gone to college.”

I played guitar and sang for him the old songs that he loved
“North To Alaska”, “Country Roads”; he hummed “Wings Of A Dove”

I did “You Are My Sunshine”, then through a throaty moan
I heard him say his last request, “The Green, Green Grass Of Home”

Then just before I left he said, “Come on, let’s take a ride”
And we rode with Wanda through the lush Virginia countryside

And though near death, the only thing that preyed upon his mind
Was to make sure I enjoyed my trip and had some small good time

While on his deck, we said goodbye ’neath brilliant Autumn cover
Last words to me: “I love you bro’. It ain’t over till its over”.

He rides his speckled pony now, and it comes through clear and clean
Wayne Hubbard sure did some things bad but never those things mean

And his kind soul and the many generous, loving things he did
Will live long in our memories and in the lives of his six kids.

Wayne Maurice Hubbard passed away, the youngest of five boys……...

In Memoriam: Wayne Maurice Hubbard

Wayne Maurice Hubbard
Born March 11, 1946, Died December 3. 2005


November 22, 2005
Warrington, VA

Dear Wayne:

I want you to know that it has been an honor and privilege to grow up with and know you for all these years.

You should know that the kindness, warmth and wit that is Wayne Maurice Hubbard will long live in the memories of those fortunate enough to know you and also in the lives of your fine children.

We love you bro'.

Gerry Hubbard.


November 22, 2005
Warrington, VA



Dear Wanda:

I want you to know that the love and tenderness you give to Wayne is greatly respected and appreciated.

You can be extremely proud of the extent of your compassionate loyalty that few of us can equal.

With respect,

Gerry Hubbard