MIZO ARTHER STANDS GUARD! (5/14/2004)
Every town has at least one, maybe even more. I’m talking about eccentric individuals who seem to always experience unusual and often near unbelievable incidences. In my hometown of Meridian, one outstanding example of this ilk was Mizo Arthur. There were a couple of others, like the Hennesee brothers, Buttermilk and Biglip, but I’ll save them for another time.
Mizo Arthur, was a man of small stature who seemed to never get a break in life. He lived in town with his wife and seven kids in a small two room house, down by Meridian Creek that meandered through town. I recall at one time the house was covered with composite roofing shingles. I say at one time, because his house would burn to the grown every now and then, because he couldn’t afford electricity and used oil lamps and candles. Finally the townspeople all got together and helped him build a rather nice little house and hook up the utilities free of charge. If memory serves me right, Mizo and his entire brood even attended church a couple of times after that. Just to show their appreciation.
Growing up in Meridian, Texas, I drove back and forth on the street that Mizo Arthur lived on and I can’t ever recall there not being at least two children playing outside in the front yard, often four or five.
Mizo worked mainly as a town handyman doing odd jobs here and there. Oddly enough, he was a very talented and accomplished horseman. He could break and train horses that others couldn’t. Mizo, could be see frequently riding a horse right through town, that the owner couldn’t ride on his ranchland. His family didn’t wear contemporary fashions, but they were never dirty and what they had looked good enough. Folks in town would occasionally drop off clothing for the entire family, especially the school children.
The Mizo Arthur family caused little trouble in the community and were raised to exercise proper morals and manners. Some of the children eventually grew up to be well respected and successful citizens.
At one point, someone a little light on research and work history references, hired Mizo to be the town Night Watchman. As I mentioned before, he was a man of diminutive size and it was difficult to work up the necessary respect for him when he told you it was time to go on home and get to bed. He was allowed to pack a firearm, but he would pull up his wrinkled sport coat and display a rather wicked looking night stick. I don’t know that it frightened anyone else, but it obviously made Mizo feel a little more official and adequate.
A permanent fixture in his attire was a pair of well worn, brown cowboy boots. It wasn’t unusual for him to wear spurs too as he used horses for his main mode of transportation.
Mizo, would make an official appearance as the town night watchman around eleven every night and then walked the streets until stores began to open the next morning. If you were caught sitting on a curb or courthouse bench after this time, he would remind you that he was on duty and wasn’t going to take any guff from anyone. If you drove through town late at night or in the wee hours of the morning you could usually see Mizo, standing in the shadows of a store front or catch a brief glimpse of him checking back doors while walking in an alley. His statement to the entire town was, “You can sleep well tonight, Mizo is awake!” I couldn’t help but wonder if he really stayed up all night or had a nice warm place to settle in and catch a few Z’s during the early morning hours before sunup.
One Saturday morning around eight-thirty, I arrived for work at Benson’s Food Market, for my weekend shift. I noticed a group of men standing in the back alley, but didn’t pay it much mind until I saw Mizo Arthur standing in the middle… talking loudly and rapidly. He was obviously the center of attention and was spinning a yarn of no little excitement that held the attention of those gathered around him. I walked over to listen. Mizo, was in the middle of telling how he had surprised two erstwhile burglars attempting to jimmy a lock on the back door of Briley’s Auto Parts.
Here’s how the story unfolded. Mizo, ever alert to the possibility of miscreants attempting to violate the town’s businesses had caught two men working hard at trying to break into Briley’s. He crept down the alley and stopped some fifteen feet or so from the action. He listened long enough to determine that it was indeed a couple of “yeggs” attempting to burgle the shop. Allow me to let Mizo tell the story in his own words. “I made a decision that there wasn’t time to find a phone and contact the Sheriff or one of his deputies. I turned my Everready Flashlight on and the bright light turned night into day.”
Mizo continued, “I didn’t recognize either of the men and felt relief that it wasn’t any of the town boys.” I yelled, “Hold it right there, your under arrest! Both men looked up toward my light and squinted their eyes. They just stood there with their tools, looking like a couple of treed raccoons.” At this point in the story I couldn’t help but think, man, he’s got himself in a delicate situation. What’s going to stop them from beating the daylights out of him? Most rational thinking people would have ran for help. But not Mizo.
Enjoying the attention, Mizo went on, “I told ’um not to move a muscle. One of them said, ’Who the hell is that,’ and pulled a knife out of his pocket. That knife blade must have been six inches long. He headed right for me and I took off running back up the alley.” At this point in his story I had the vision of a squirrel running for his life, laying tracks about a foot in front of a vicious and totally committed Tom Cat. Taking a deep breath, Mizo continued his story of valor. “I knew they were going to try and kill me, so I took off as fast as I could run.” (Author’s comment: Where was a good horse when you really needed it.) “I could feel one of them getting close, so I poured it on. I was having to run in my boots, so it slowed me down a little. I would have been faster in tennis shoes!” At this point I couldn’t help but remember, yes, I had seen Mizo wearing “tennis shoes” once and thought he looked a little out of character in them.
Mizo’s story was building to a climax. “All of a sudden I thought I felt one of them pulling at my coat, which was flapping in the breeze as I ran.” (I grant you I caught that vision plain as day.) Mizo’s eyes were as big as door knobs as he relived his adventure of the night before. “That’s when I really poured it on and plum ran away from them.” At this point in the story, I could visualize Wiley E. Coyote chasing his old nemesis, the Roadrunner. Someone in the crowd asked, “Where did you go?” He answered, “Home!” Mizo lived about two miles from mid-town, so that was quite a test of endurance. I’m certain his pursuers quit chasing him long before he reached his house. Our story teller reminded his listeners, “You don’t bring a club to a knife fight.” That made perfect sense to me.
At this point in the story, Mizo turned around so everyone could see the back of his coat. The familiar brown serge sport coat was literally flayed from shoulder to bottom in several places! A murmur of astonishment rippled through the gathered thong of men. Someone said, “Whoa! Man they almost got you.” As Mizo stood with his back to the crowd, several men walked over and inspected the coat, while emitting little noises of incredulity. Mizo Arthur’s adventure spread through the town like a wild fire. He’d done his job, by keeping Briley’s Auto Store from being robbed and had done so at the very risk of his own life.
Mizo enjoyed his moment of fame for about a week or so. He wore the same coat every day and was ready and willing to rehearse his story for anyone that would listen. I don’t remember how long he wore that old cut-up coat, but I do know he quit as the town Night Watchman the day after the incident. Do you blame him?
I apologize for saying this, but there was quite a few of us who always wondered if he’d cut that coat himself. Several businessmen collected a fair amount of money and presented it to Mizo, for going above and beyond the call of duty! I’m glad they did. That was a good thing to do.
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