Although I haven't read C. Mark Smith's book about Sam Volpentest, I can add an item that may not be in there. Growing up in Richland, Wednesday night was poker night in private homes. The four men were Sam Volpentest, a man named Penn that we all called Penny, Robley Johnson, Richland's photographer, and my father, Amos Bradley.
When it was my dad's turn to be host, my mother would take my sister and me to the movies, ostensibly to get out of their way, but I now think it was her Southern upbringing that didn't approve of the smell of bourbon in the room. I remember that before we were hustled out, I always managed to sneak a handful of the Planter's Peanuts in the blue can that was a staple on the green felt table.
I still have my dad's poker chips and old playing cards, and, of course, happy childhood memories of growing up in Richland, and I remember the poker players.
BRENDA BRADLEY, Richland