Direct from the biography A Mississippi Man: Glynn Arlin Mallette
Pages from the life story of Glynn Arlin Mallette who grew up on the Mississippi Coast. Born poor, as poor as a man can be... and with hard work went on to great success. This is his story. Available on paperback and hardcover from Amazon.com - BUY BOOK HERE
“I could never become
so rich that
I would forget what
it’s like to
be poor.”
Glynn Arlin Mallette
A Mississippi Man – The
Glynn Mallette Story
“You can’t imagine how poor we were.”
“I’ve seen times when
there was nothing to eat…”
“At one point there
were 56 of us in this family, my Grandpa and everyone. Now, I’m the last one.”
“We worked, worked,
worked--- if we didn’t work, we didn’t eat.”
“We’d take an axe and
hit the hog in the head. Take a damn knife shove it right in there and bleed it
out.”
“The time I met Elvis
Presley, I have pictures to prove all that.”
“Running a business,
someone has to be the son of a bitch.”
“I put my business
before my family. And, that is my biggest regret.”
A Mississippi Man
The Glynn Mallette
Story
A book by John B. Dolan
A Mississippi Man
The Glynn Mallette
Story
A Mississippi Man
It was late in 2024
when I sat down with Glynn Mallette at his spacious 6000 square-foot home on
his compound in Old Fort Bayou Mississippi. We spent several engaging days discussing
his memories, sharing family stories and even took the time to enjoy some tasty
fresh crab chowder that he cooked for us. Turns out Glynn was a fine chef and
enjoyed cooking for his family and friends. We drank his favorite wine, listened
to classic music that included Elvis, Frank Sinatra and his favorite Ray Price.
The hours passed pleasantly as we casually got to know each other.
I present Glynn’s story mostly in his
own words.
His Words
Really the first thing I remember, I was about three years
old, I remember my Momma carrying a blue plate about that big around to my
Daddy’s bed and feeding him. And then, the next thing I remember my Momma
holding me in her arms and looking at my Daddy in the casket.
I guess the next thing was I started school when I was five
years old and went to school for thirteen years. I went to school for thirteen
years and did not miss a day, I am proud to say that. Also my oldest son went
twelve years--- and he never missed a day. I never was sick and I don’t know
why. We all drank out of the same water well.
Hell, in the winter I’d go barefoot all the time. I had tough
feet because I went barefoot back then. Now I can’t walk out in the yard
without shoes.
And, getting back to my roots here we had chickens, we had
hogs, we had cows and we had horses. Still we were very poor people--- as poor
as you want to get.
We used kerosene lamps. We used them to walk from room to
room and if you turned them up too much the glow would turn the lamp black. Then
you couldn’t see anything.
Whatever we would eat that night she, Momma, would put away
safe. We boys each had a gallon bucket and a food spoon, all us boys we’d take
that to school. It would be beans and greens, a piece of corn bread and maybe a
biscuit in there. We’d hang that bucket so the ants could not get to it.
She would sell the chicken eggs to buy feed, and Momma made
our shirts out of the feed sacks. It was what we had feed sacks, and later on
they had feed sacks with red flowers and blues flowers. I had two pair of
overalls--- I remember her patching them for the third time. This was when I
was a kid.
You can’t image how poor we were.
I never heard my Momma curse. Never. Now, she’d take that
switch and beat my ass. I’m glad for every whooping I got. But, I never heard a
curse word from her.
She whopped my ass plenty, a lot. I’d fight with my brother,
we’d fight like hell. He was three years older than me, but we’d fight and he’d
beat my ass. But, I’d still fight him, Conrad. We kept it outside.
One time Conrad had this knife, and I told him I wanted the knife.
He said, there it is. And I grabbed that knife’s blade and he jerked it back.
That son of a bitch, I still have the scar today. Right there on my hand.
Nearly cut off my four fingers, right across the hand. Scar right here, right
here, and right here. He pulled that son of a bitch.
Me and him would fight nose to nose.
One thing my Momma always told me, always read the fine print
before you sign something. Always read the fine print.
Life is short, very, very short. Of course I never thought
I’d live to be twenty-one years old.
My Daddy passed away at 57 years old, when I was only three
years old. He was married for fifteen years to Jane Allen Mallette.
Dad was out with a horse plowing the field and he said, “I’m going
to join the army and go over and kill them Germans.” And he did. And he caught
that gas in Germany during World War I. He came back and got married at forty-three
years old and died at fifty-seven with five boys. If he didn’t die--- he might
have had fifteen boys. Ha.
My Momma would say, my Daddy would get up at 4 o’clock in the
morning, ride a horse nine miles and come back at dark for fifty cents a day.
My Daddy died when I was three years old. My Daddy, Harry,
had a horrible, horrible death.
READ MORE: A Mississippi Man The Glynn Mallette Story book
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