Paul

(1926 – 1983)

Paul was just two years younger than me and was my pal when we were growing up. We played together, joked and laughed together, did dishes together, walked to school together and slept in the same bed. We were inseparable buddies during our grade school years.

Paul was probably the brightest of the Baird kids. He could read simple material quite well, knew his alphabet and could count to well over100 before he started school. He had his Children’s Day lines memorized in no time--while I was still struggling to learn my part. The same with school work; we both got top grades, but I had to work hard for mine while Paul just breezed along. He skipped second grade and was the only one in his class during most of his years at East Center school.

Paul loved mechanical things and was always inventing something. When he was about six he rigged a make-believe airplane cockpit out of a couple of discarded school benches. He nailed a little wheel from a broken tricycle to the back of one bench for a steering wheel and set up a couple of tin can lids and a fruit jar lid for gauges. We would sit on the other bench for hours, taking turns piloting our plane. Oh, what fun we had on our wild flying adventures! Some time later Uncle Sile bought Paul an Erector set. He loved it and made all kinds of crazy inventions with it.

It sometimes seemed as though Paul and I were always doing dishes. There were a lot of dishes--and with kids helping with the cooking and baking the messy pots and pans really stacked up. But Paul and I got so busy talking and joking that it took a long time to get the job done. Mother used to say, “You boys must really like doing dishes because you spend all day at it!”

A few weeks after Paul’s sixth birthday Mother wrote in her diary: “Paul is a good little worker. He sweeps, makes beds, washes dishes and washes the sink.” A little later she wrote: “Paul usually helps me make the beds. Sometimes he goes up on his own accord and makes them himself and he usually does a better job than the older boys who sometimes just straighten the top covers.”

Still another quote from Mothers Diary: “After I had gone to bed Roger and Paul had a big paper fight. They rolled up newspapers and had the time of their lives hitting each other until their paper clubs wore away and then they made new ones. When it was over they cleaned up the dining room.”

Although I was two years older than Paul, when we tussled he could hold his own very well. He was more athletic than I was and had a much better throwing arm, so he was better at softball and the occasional corn cob fights we used to have in the barnyard. Once I used some leftover concrete mix to make a ball the same size and color as our softball. Paul didn’t know about this new ball until after I casually tossed it to him with, “Here, catch!” He caught it easily, was surprised at its weight--and tossed it back to me. But I was afraid of my new toy, missed and got a bump on the forehead.

Once when Paul was about three Mother left a bottle of strawberry extract on the kitchen table where Paul found it and drank it all. The label stated that the extract was 80% alcohol. Dad called Dr. Coffey, who said that it probably wouldn’t hurt Paul--but to watch him and keep him quiet if he got drunk. We kids watched Paul like a hawk--hoping for him to put on a show--but nothing happened.