I'm David Chafin, which was also my grandfather's name (David E. Chafin).  He was from Logan, West Virginia, and he was a railroad man.  Umpires and their backgrounds were rarely mention in the newspapers, and were rarely known to fans and reporters.  When papers did list the box scores, the only reference to the umpires was at best a mention of their last names, sometimes spelled completely wrong, too! I worked with a number of good umpires, and I still can recall their names and home towns: Sid Kensith was from Edgerton Wisconsin, Charles Silverstine was from New York City, New York, Charles Barber was from Boston, Massachusetts, Pete Pappas and Carl Panish were both Chicagoans. Frank Fedrico hailed from New Jersey; Bob Williams was from the home of the Little League World Series: Williamsport, Pennsylvania, and Dick Wells was a native of Troy Michigan.

The ball parks in the league all had unique attributes and characteristics: Crestview's ball field was poorly lit because the lights were set up for football and they ran from left to right center.  The infield was very dark as a result, and it made calling the night game especially difficult. I remember one evening calling an 18 inning game at Crestview.  I can't say how many pitches I might have missed, but neither could anyone else in attendance.  Everyone had difficulty seeing the action.

Donalsonville, Georgia was the buggiest field in the league.  I remember my hands bleeding from constant bug bites after particularly muggy evenings.  In. Fort Walton Beach the sound was something that I'll always remember. The whistling of the wind rattling through the steel fences and the sounds of bombs and fighter jets from nearby Eglin Air Force Base were always present.  Bloch Park in Selma, Paterson Field in Montgomery, and Golden Park in Columbus were all very good ball parks, but for my money, the best park of all was Wiregrass Park in Dothan.   The lighting was positioned well and the fans sat  farther away from the field (and the umpires) than the other fields, which made calling a game a much more pleasant experience than an umpire would have elsewhere. When I saw the pictures of the Graceville's Sportsman's Park, it immediately brought back a different kind of memory:  The wonderful smells.  When I think back on games I called in Graceville, I can almost smell the peanuts that they used to roast on open fires.

Even though the job of umpiring was often a tough and serious occupation, there were lots of  funny and unusual  incidents that I fondly  remember:  I still remember one night at Fort Walton Beach when Bill Brightwell approached me with the intention of discussing a play, but he started laughing so hard that  he  couldn't get the words out. Finally, after multiple attempts, he said through his laughs, "Hey Chafin, your ass is showing!  You've split your pants!" Unfortunately for me, that was the only pair I had brought with me, so I ended up calling the rest of the game in a pair of pants that belonged to one of the players.

Sometimes a small reaction to a play can get an umpire into hot water.  Once in Dothan, I was calling balls and strikes, with a man on 2nd and two outs.  The pitcher uncorked an extremely  wild pitch that went all the way to the backstop, and  the catcher just turned around and waited for me to give him a new ball, which a absent mindedly did. Dothan's manager, Whitey Reese came storming out of the dugout and was going absolutely nuts, claiming that his man on second would have scored if I hadn't handled the catcher the ball.  Instead it was a dead ball. The only thing I could say was, "C'mon Whitey, you know he could n't have scored all the way from second".  Of course, Whitey saw things differently!

There were good and bad ball players in the Alabama-Florida League, but two players stick out in my mind as much better than the rest: Nesbit "Neb" Wilson and Neal Cobb.  They were so much better than most players; it was like two men playing in a boy's league.  Not only were they talented, they both were good guys too.  Neb Wilson could show quite a temper though.   One time, I thought he might try to kill me after one particular incident during a Sunday game in Donalsonville.  Neb was playing first base, and his shortstop dug out a grounder and threw wildly to first.  Instead of going for the ball, which was out of reach, Neb decided to throw a block into the oncoming runner and then try for the ball. Of course, I gave the runner second because of the interference and this caused Neb to blow his top. He went after me, and I must have turned as white as a ghost as he lunged for me. Fortunately for everyone involved, Neb's own players managed to down him before he could lay into me and they held him down on the field for what seemed like ten minutes until he calmed down enough to be released.

One guy that I really didn't care for was Walt Dixon.  He was an umpire baiter, and I always felt that he was being paid extra money to intimidate the umpires.  He was always disagreeable and disliked every call an umpire made, right or wrong.

When we called games in Montgomery, we stayed at the YMCA.  Unfortunately, they did not have air conditioning there and it felt like we were staying in an oven.  If we were lucky, it might get cool enough by around 5:00 am that we could get about maybe an hour of sleep.  To get relief, we'd go downtown to the movie theatre, which was air conditioned, and instead of seeing the movie, we catch up on whatever sleep we could get.