The War, the Lord, & the Old Oak Tree

Herbert Robinson or “Hub,” as everyone in the community called him, never had a son of his own but took over the role of father for the author after his daughter’s husband was killed. Hub was the kind of man who thought before he spoke, and when he did, people listened. He was a part of the Greatest Generation and in this humble writer’s mind, he signified the absolute BEST that it had to offer. It was underneath the old oak tree that Hub and I would sit for the remaining hours of the day watching the sun go down after a hard day’s work on the farm. It was here that Hub would tell the stories that he was comfortable telling and even some that were not so easy to bear. He did his very best to instill the value of a hard day’s work and the value of doing the right thing even when it wasn’t convenient or it hurt. He had a way of breaking even the hardest concepts into a way a child could understand. “Integrity is just what you’re doin’ when other people aren’t lookin’,” he would say. If there is anything good to be had in this author, it is absolutely attributable to the unwavering love and support that he received from his mother and a simple gentleman farmer named Hub.