Our dad was working for an old time contractor by the name of Holland Page, installing a new wastewater system all around the town of Gatesville. The year was probably 1963. That summer we went there part of the time to spend with him. He had an apartment rented.
They had a guy working previously that was trying to make an insurance claim for a back injury that supposedly happened on the job. Cec, my dad, knew that wasn’t possible because “the guy had been too lazy to pickup anything“. After talking to various people around town, this fellow had pulled the same scam time after time.
They found out that the scammer was working, helping to tear down an old house right there in Gatesville. The company had given Cec a nice camera to document the progress on the project. He enlisted Kenny and me to go to the house to see if we could snap some pictures that would show the guy performing work.
Kenny was about 13 and I was 11. We went there and instead of sneaking around to get some pictures we told the wrecking crew we worked for the newspaper and wanted to take pictures for a story that was being done on the history of the old home.
They bought our story I suppose, because the whole bunch went right along working, making sure they got in as many of the pictures as possible. The targeted individual was captured on film carrying a huge front door out to the curb all by himself.
When the film was developed the pictures were convincing enough that the guy withdrew his claim and the case was closed.