Jeffrey Bert Faddis
Today I offer some reminisces about my little brother, Jeffrey who was 15 months my junior. It would take a book to tell just the stories I know about him, let alone the dozens of those that have been told to me by others. So this will not be the only recounting of his life in this blog, but it’s a start.
Most people called him Jethro Bodeen or just Bodeen, and it fit him so well. His true initials were JB (as in Jeffrey Bert) but he was given his nickname by one of his second grade classmates who was not fond of Jeff. The TV show, The Beverly Hillbillies was popular at that time and the kid thought it was funny to dub him Jethro Bodeen because of his manner of talking, his “redneck” behavior and that he appeared to not possess a lot of “book learnin’.” The nickname stuck with him the rest of his life until his untimely demise at age 46. In school, Jeff was enrolled in an EH (educationally handicapped) class. He was hyperactive for which he was prescribed the drug of choice at that time, Phenobarbital. Jeff could not sit still and other kids teased him about his behavior. His response was to fight and many a boy was the target of his wrath. Jeff was tough, unafraid and ferocious when he got mad. Our dad and uncles taught us to fight which they did on most weekends at the various bars and honkytonks wherever they lived.
When I was 12 and Jeff was 11 we went one night to a Christian Brigade (aka Royal Rangers and patterned after Boy Scouts of America) meeting at the First Baptist Church of Ceres. The first (and only) evening of our Royal Ranger careers lasted a total of 30 minutes. About 20 minutes in, Jeff came running to tell me that two other boys were picking on him and challenging him to fight. Being that we were raised to protect one another, we went looking for them. Come to find out, they were brothers who went to a different elementary school than us so we didn’t know them. Jeff and I invited the brothers to settle our grievances and they, being confident in their own jousting skills, accepted. We all went outside where Jeff and I “tuned them up.” A couple of leaders intervened and sent Jeff and me home telling us to not come back-ever.
Jeff was really not a troublemaker as much as he was a “trouble magnet.” Yes, he had a smart mouth and was fearless. I think his small stature (in high school he was about 5’4” and 95 lbs.) so he was picked on by bigger boys. However, any particular bully only did it once to Bodeen and subsequently received a beating for his trouble. I saw him fight many times and never witnessed him lose.
In those days, Ceres was a farming town and most males wore baseball caps emblazoned with logos such as John Deere and Stanislaus Farm Supply. Jeff had this little trick he used many times in fights most of which were begun with the combatants arguing, insulting and pushing one another. Jeff would adjust his cap several times by briefly removing it, smoothing back his hair with the other hand and putting the cap back on. His opponent would become accustomed to him doing this during the “pre-fisticuffs.” On the third or fourth hat adjustment, Jeff would, instead of putting it back on his head, flip it up in the air a few feet. Every time I saw him do this, the other guy looked up at the airborne hat and Jeff would then punch him in the face. Fight over.
Jeff was also a hunter, trapper and fisherman. I used to say he was born a hundred years too late. He would have been a mountain man or gunfighter in a different life. He hunted most local game animals including waterfowl, deer, bear, raccoons and wild hogs. He owned many hunting dogs over the years such as black and tans, redbones, pit bulls and Weimaraners. He lost a couple of his dogs while hunting coons. On two separate occasions his dogs were chasing a coon that swam out into the middle of a river, turned and waited for the dog to get to him. The coon then climbed atop the dog’s head and held it under the water until it drowned. Coons are very smart animals.
Another story I heard from our little brother Kevin amazes, but does not surprise me. They, along with Kevin’s friend Kelly Adcock, were hunting bear during bow season. Jeff’s dogs treed a big black bear and Jeff shot the bear with several arrows in an effort to kill it so to would fall out of the tree. (My apologies to the anti-hunting contingent, but I’m just the messenger). The bear would not die or come out of the tree all night long. Jeff was out of arrows so, the next morning, he told Kelly and Kevin to stay there with the dogs while he went to town to buy more arrows. He was unable to procure any so he drove back to the tree at which time the bear (later found to be over 350 lbs.) began to climb down to the ground. Not willing to let the wounded bear get away, Jeff found a 6 foot log tree branch about the size of a man’s wrist. Using some duct tape he had in his truck, he lashed his hunting knife to the stick, using his homemade spear to go after the bear. Kevin and Kelly hid behind some trees and watched Jeff fight the bear as they alternately chased each other. Several times the bear stood on its back legs and fought Jeff and his dogs who were circling the bear, trying to bite it as they were trained to do. The bear finally succumbed and another story to tell around the campfire was born- Bodeen and the Bear.
Jeff often asked if he could take my son, Daniel, hunting with him to which I always said no. Jeff was a poacher, an outlaw, hunted at night and on private property without the owner’s permission. No way was I going to allow my boy to go with him anywhere. Over the years Jeff acquired a large key ring full of keys that opened the many gates to the properties he wished to hunt. These keys were bought, sold, copied and stolen. Most of the properties were owned by ranchers, Pacific Gas and Electric, and Gallo among others. More than once he was chased by ranchers and game wardens who tried to catch him doing something illegal, which he did constantly. Those in pursuit also had keys to the gates so, when he saw a vehicle coming from afar, he sped off, going through, opening and closing locked gates as he went. Usually, he could make it to a main road or canal bank well ahead of his pursuers and make a clean get away. When he thought they were getting too close, he would take a lock sitting on his truck seat and for which those making chase did not have a key, and lock the gate with it. Chase over.
One last story… during the salmon run in the Tuolumne River between Waterford and LaGrange, CA, Bodeen practiced the art of “snagging.” It’s done by attaching a very large and heavy treble hook to a fishing pole line and casting it out into the river, then reeling it in an attempt to snag the fish. This was done under the cover of darkness and is highly illegal (what a surprise, huh?). One night Jeff and our cousin, Larry, who was enrolled in high school at the time snagged dozens of salmon ranging in size from 8 to 28 lbs. Half of Jeff’s small pickup bed was full of fish when they left the next morning. Larry was late for school and was worried the teacher would not let him into the classroom. Not a problem for Bodeen. He drove across campus to a set of portable classrooms where Larry was supposed to be 10 or 15 minutes earlier. Jeff went into the classroom and asked the male teacher to come outside so he could talk to him about Larry’s tardiness. Jeff took responsibility for the situation, explaining they had “fished” all night long and miscalculated how long it would take to get back in time. He pointed out the truck bed full of fish and told the teacher to pick out any two salmon he wanted in order to make amends. Without a word the man grabbed two fish and told Larry his tardiness was forgiven. Problem solved.
To be continued…
Most people called him Jethro Bodeen or just Bodeen, and it fit him so well. His true initials were JB (as in Jeffrey Bert) but he was given his nickname by one of his second grade classmates who was not fond of Jeff. The TV show, The Beverly Hillbillies was popular at that time and the kid thought it was funny to dub him Jethro Bodeen because of his manner of talking, his “redneck” behavior and that he appeared to not possess a lot of “book learnin’.” The nickname stuck with him the rest of his life until his untimely demise at age 46. In school, Jeff was enrolled in an EH (educationally handicapped) class. He was hyperactive for which he was prescribed the drug of choice at that time, Phenobarbital. Jeff could not sit still and other kids teased him about his behavior. His response was to fight and many a boy was the target of his wrath. Jeff was tough, unafraid and ferocious when he got mad. Our dad and uncles taught us to fight which they did on most weekends at the various bars and honkytonks wherever they lived.
When I was 12 and Jeff was 11 we went one night to a Christian Brigade (aka Royal Rangers and patterned after Boy Scouts of America) meeting at the First Baptist Church of Ceres. The first (and only) evening of our Royal Ranger careers lasted a total of 30 minutes. About 20 minutes in, Jeff came running to tell me that two other boys were picking on him and challenging him to fight. Being that we were raised to protect one another, we went looking for them. Come to find out, they were brothers who went to a different elementary school than us so we didn’t know them. Jeff and I invited the brothers to settle our grievances and they, being confident in their own jousting skills, accepted. We all went outside where Jeff and I “tuned them up.” A couple of leaders intervened and sent Jeff and me home telling us to not come back-ever.
Jeff was really not a troublemaker as much as he was a “trouble magnet.” Yes, he had a smart mouth and was fearless. I think his small stature (in high school he was about 5’4” and 95 lbs.) so he was picked on by bigger boys. However, any particular bully only did it once to Bodeen and subsequently received a beating for his trouble. I saw him fight many times and never witnessed him lose.
In those days, Ceres was a farming town and most males wore baseball caps emblazoned with logos such as John Deere and Stanislaus Farm Supply. Jeff had this little trick he used many times in fights most of which were begun with the combatants arguing, insulting and pushing one another. Jeff would adjust his cap several times by briefly removing it, smoothing back his hair with the other hand and putting the cap back on. His opponent would become accustomed to him doing this during the “pre-fisticuffs.” On the third or fourth hat adjustment, Jeff would, instead of putting it back on his head, flip it up in the air a few feet. Every time I saw him do this, the other guy looked up at the airborne hat and Jeff would then punch him in the face. Fight over.
Jeff was also a hunter, trapper and fisherman. I used to say he was born a hundred years too late. He would have been a mountain man or gunfighter in a different life. He hunted most local game animals including waterfowl, deer, bear, raccoons and wild hogs. He owned many hunting dogs over the years such as black and tans, redbones, pit bulls and Weimaraners. He lost a couple of his dogs while hunting coons. On two separate occasions his dogs were chasing a coon that swam out into the middle of a river, turned and waited for the dog to get to him. The coon then climbed atop the dog’s head and held it under the water until it drowned. Coons are very smart animals.
Another story I heard from our little brother Kevin amazes, but does not surprise me. They, along with Kevin’s friend Kelly Adcock, were hunting bear during bow season. Jeff’s dogs treed a big black bear and Jeff shot the bear with several arrows in an effort to kill it so to would fall out of the tree. (My apologies to the anti-hunting contingent, but I’m just the messenger). The bear would not die or come out of the tree all night long. Jeff was out of arrows so, the next morning, he told Kelly and Kevin to stay there with the dogs while he went to town to buy more arrows. He was unable to procure any so he drove back to the tree at which time the bear (later found to be over 350 lbs.) began to climb down to the ground. Not willing to let the wounded bear get away, Jeff found a 6 foot log tree branch about the size of a man’s wrist. Using some duct tape he had in his truck, he lashed his hunting knife to the stick, using his homemade spear to go after the bear. Kevin and Kelly hid behind some trees and watched Jeff fight the bear as they alternately chased each other. Several times the bear stood on its back legs and fought Jeff and his dogs who were circling the bear, trying to bite it as they were trained to do. The bear finally succumbed and another story to tell around the campfire was born- Bodeen and the Bear.
Jeff often asked if he could take my son, Daniel, hunting with him to which I always said no. Jeff was a poacher, an outlaw, hunted at night and on private property without the owner’s permission. No way was I going to allow my boy to go with him anywhere. Over the years Jeff acquired a large key ring full of keys that opened the many gates to the properties he wished to hunt. These keys were bought, sold, copied and stolen. Most of the properties were owned by ranchers, Pacific Gas and Electric, and Gallo among others. More than once he was chased by ranchers and game wardens who tried to catch him doing something illegal, which he did constantly. Those in pursuit also had keys to the gates so, when he saw a vehicle coming from afar, he sped off, going through, opening and closing locked gates as he went. Usually, he could make it to a main road or canal bank well ahead of his pursuers and make a clean get away. When he thought they were getting too close, he would take a lock sitting on his truck seat and for which those making chase did not have a key, and lock the gate with it. Chase over.
One last story… during the salmon run in the Tuolumne River between Waterford and LaGrange, CA, Bodeen practiced the art of “snagging.” It’s done by attaching a very large and heavy treble hook to a fishing pole line and casting it out into the river, then reeling it in an attempt to snag the fish. This was done under the cover of darkness and is highly illegal (what a surprise, huh?). One night Jeff and our cousin, Larry, who was enrolled in high school at the time snagged dozens of salmon ranging in size from 8 to 28 lbs. Half of Jeff’s small pickup bed was full of fish when they left the next morning. Larry was late for school and was worried the teacher would not let him into the classroom. Not a problem for Bodeen. He drove across campus to a set of portable classrooms where Larry was supposed to be 10 or 15 minutes earlier. Jeff went into the classroom and asked the male teacher to come outside so he could talk to him about Larry’s tardiness. Jeff took responsibility for the situation, explaining they had “fished” all night long and miscalculated how long it would take to get back in time. He pointed out the truck bed full of fish and told the teacher to pick out any two salmon he wanted in order to make amends. Without a word the man grabbed two fish and told Larry his tardiness was forgiven. Problem solved.
To be continued…
Comments
tinalowe861@yahoo.com I hope to hear from you.
I remember Jeff as a kid across the street from you all on Kay st in Ceres, your sister Tina and myself were close friends back then, along with Geena Hair next door to me, I was only 11 when we moved to Arkansas, but I do remeber many fights Jeff had as a kid, I had seen Tina just after his death and before her's at Bingo one night, reading this reminds me of my son, the reneck country boy, has done many of the same things you talk of about Jeff. lucky he has settled down alot (at 36yrs old) took him being locked up with no freedom for 8 yrs and not wanting to go back. I am going to look for your book, and other blog's. I have just been thinking of the good old days, when we could be kids, and were kids, playing in the street, being out front for our mom's to see us or in the house when the street lights came on lol
Thank you for the stories of Jeff, made me smile.
Robbie Scott Meeker Green