By TANYA EISERER / Abilene Reporter-News70-year-old gets by with the help of a friend
By TANYA EISERER / Abilene Reporter-News
Photo by Gerald Ewing
The lines on Tom Yarborough's leathery face resemble a road map to decades of living on the streets.
The 70-year-old Abilene resident lists his mailing address as Spirits of Abilene, where owner Joe Martin serves as banker, bartender and friend.
Martin has faithfully doled Yarborough's Social Security check out to him in appropriate amounts for liquor and food for about the last six years.
"He'll probably die owing me $400 or $500, but that's all right," said Martin, who has seen him three or four times a day for about 15 years.
"Tom doesn't hurt nothing. I've helped Tom a lot. I just don't trust those other (homeless) folks," Martin said.
Raised in the nearby Callahan County town of Oplin, Yarborough finds shelter from the elements in an abandoned warehouse on Abilene's south side.
"They might give me a trespassing ticket if they ever catch me," Yarborough said.
Decades of hard living have left him a slow-moving man who frequently reminisces about fighting with Gen. Douglas MacArthur.
"I don't move around like I used to," he said. "I used to pick up cans when I was younger. Now, I can't hardly get in a Dumpster anymore. I get in there, and I can't get out."
When asked what he does to pass the time, the ripe-smelling Yarborough replied matter-of-factly, "Drink."
"When it's lightning and thundering all around me, I drink more so I can sleep better," he added.
Yarborough has relatives in Abilene, but he doesn't want to live with them, Martin said.
"He was blind as a bat for a while" until he had cataract surgery on one eye, Martin explained.
Martin said Yarborough recently switched from other hard liquor to the sweet-tasting peppermint schnapps.
"He's got it in his head that schnapps doesn't have any alcohol in it because it tastes like peppermint," Martin said.
A scrawny, dirt-covered figure, Yarborough cracked jokes as he talked about his life and the road that led to the bottle and ultimately to the streets.
"My daddy was just like me - a drunkard," he said. "He made (moonshine) and sold it. That was back during Prohibition."
As a young man, he served in both World War II and the Korean War. Yarborough, who once worked for a trucking company in Clyde, later married, had three children and divorced in 1971.
"I got hooked on that old Thunderbird wine, and I hit the railroads," he said. "But you can't run from anything. I hardly ever drank (before that).
"I thought (the liquor) would do it, but it didn't do no good. I never was good at anything. I had a rough life. It was just one of those things."
The time and day no longer matter to Yarborough.
"What is today, anyway?" he asked. "I can't keep up with it. I just woke up, and I'm about half asleep now."
Death seems to hold no fear for him, either.
"I don't give a damn when I die. Let the county take care of it. My life is almost gone. I've been lucky to get this far."