Alvan Hogarth Sandeford was born in 1926 and died in 2014. He lived out his life in Midville except for a period of time during and right after college. He was a farmer and a businessman. He was as much a part of Midville as any man that ever drew a breath. He was involved in all things that pertained to Midville because he truly loved our little town.
He was a lifelong member of the Midville Lions Club as well as the Midville Methodist Church. He was always right there when something needed to be done. I knew Mr. Hogarth since the day I was born. As I got a little older, we developed a friendship that lasted until his death.
I remember a Saturday afternoon in September, it was dove season and I didn’t have anywhere to shoot birds. I ran into Mr. Hogarth and he said, “come on boy I’m having a dove shoot this afternoon”. I replied, “yes sir, I’m on the way!” I had always known him, but from that day forward our relationship grew more and more.
By the time I was in my late twenties he and I were quail hunting and fishing in the river with great regularity. We both shared a great love of bird dogs and quail, and we always had a wonderful time together. I did, however, receive a tongue lashing quite often for shooting birds too fast. He said he couldn’t shoot that fast anymore and I needed to wait on him. I never did learn to wait when the birds flushed though…
We fished in our beloved river, The Mighty Ogeechee, mainly in the fall, for bass and jackfish. We fished out of a wooden paddle boat that had been built by Mr. L.A. Kemp. Mr. L.A. was a skilled boat builder, and he was also the miller at McKinney’s Pond. He built those specifically to be paddled in the river.
One man paddled and one man fished until it was time to swap places. We would always fish or paddle for an hour and a half and then swap. It didn’t take me long to figure out what he was up to. According to where we put in he would announce if he wanted to paddle first. If he wanted to paddle first that meant it wasn’t good fishing. He would gladly paddle me through the sorry water.
He knew that river like the back of his hand and would explain the nuances to me. He could point out where the river used to run and what stretches held fish. I was like a sponge; I was soaking up all his knowledge. I’ve said before that if you spend 5 or 6 hours in a boat with a man you can learn a lot about the man. I learned a lot.
As much as I loved the fishing, I loved our conversations even more. He revealed himself to me and shared many things from his life. He was in Atlanta selling cars when his daddy died. He came home and started farming. He openly admitted the fact that he had a lot to learn. Mr. Brooks ran The Experiment Station at the time and Mr. Hogarth said he beat him to work every day. Mr. Hogarth was there every morning to ask questions about farming.
One day he was in need of another bird dog, so I found him one. His son, Ralph and I went to pick the dog up in Middle Georgia. Ralph’s boys were small, but they went with us to get the dog. It was a setter, as Mr. Hogarth was a setter man, but when we left those boys had a little pointer puppy on the backseat with them.
We came home with two dogs and when hunting season came in, we had them out doing what they were bred to do. One afternoon, Mr. Hogarth and I were hunting. That young setter was on the ground running big. Mr. Hogarth called him, but he didn’t respond. I saw the barrel of his shotgun go out the window and said don’t shoot!
Those words were wasted as the shotgun went off. He peppered the dog, to knock the wax out of his ears so he said. The dog apparently did not like that sort of training because after Mr. Hogarth shot in his direction, we never saw him again.
I have a myriad of stories from all the years we spent together outdoors, but there’s a lot of other stories as well. I watched him help countless people and he never said a word. He did it because it needed doing.
I wanted to open a restaurant in Midville, but I lacked money and credit. I had successfully been turned down by several lending institutions. Ralph, his son, came to me one day and said somebody wants to help you get the restaurant going. I said I could surely use some help.
In a day or two I received a call from one of the banks that had turned me down for a loan. The bank president said let’s revisit your restaurant idea. I walked in the president’s office at the bank, and he slid over a note for me to sign and then handed me a check. Eventually, I figured out A.H. made that happen. He never told me. He never said a word.
Mr. Hogarth called me one day and said come by his office. I was nervous because I felt certain I was going to receive a tongue lashing for something. I walked in and Mr. Hogarth handed me a check. I was the church treasurer at the time, and he told me the check was for the church. Yes sir!
Of all the stories I could recount, stories like these are the ones that mean the most. I had the privilege to speak at Mr. Hogarth’s funeral. I told many stories about all the times we spent together and about all the good things I watched him do in this world. I hope I did him justice. One day, I’ll get to see ‘ole A.H. again.
