Armon Leifenbacker the Forth was a farm boy. His great grandfather, grandfather and father
were farmers. The multi-generational family
lived 3 miles outside Tunica, Mississippi on the family property, the property
Armon One was given by his owner when he was freed after the Civil War. All the
Armons knew it was unusual for black folks to have a German name. But, that’s
the way it was.
For generations the Leifenbacker’s lived off their cotton and
peanut crops. If the weather cooperated,
they were fine. If not, the
Leifenbackers came close to starving since potatoes, tomatoes and other area
produce required the same good weather as the cash crop.
Tunica County’s claim to fame from it’s inception, if it
could be deemed an honor, was that the little delta town was listed as one of
the nation’s top ten poorest counties. A full 25 percent of the citizens lived
below the poverty level each relying on an elaborate bartering system to keep
them in essentials. In the late 1990’s the official average family income
topped off at $22,000 per year. Those figures were achieved only because some casinos
were built providing the region with its first non-agricultural industry.
When Armon Four was three his Daddy traded a bail of cotton
for three crates of lemons. Melbalee, Four’s Mama, was thrilled. Lemons were a delicacy to be treated with
reverence since they came all the way from South Texas. She made sweet lemonade, then lemon
pies, then lemon cakes and then lemon curd for the pantry. Mablelee put peels in muslin bags and hung
them in the windows so the house would smell fresh. Eventually she was out of
ideas for the yellow ovals so she allowed the little boy to play with the boxes and drying-out lemons. Because Four had no real
toys, rolling the lemons around the house and yard represented hours of
entertainment.
Before he was five he could target an empty box, toss an almost petrified lemon inside from thirty yards away and never miss. His dad and mom often threw them back to the
tyke to keep him nearby while they worked the fields, never paying attention to
the child’s dexterity and ability to catch and throw.
A major turn in Four’s life happened at the Good Will when
his Mama took him to get new jeans for school. New to the youngest Armon meant “purchased at Good Will” or “given
out at church trade days.” It was there
that Four spotted a worn-out, but genuine, regulation football. Mablelee,
realizing the lemons had long sense dried into dust, bought it for her son. From that time on, the boy spent every minute he wasn't working the fields playing some kind of game with a ball.
Thanks to the enforcement of integration laws, Four was the
first Leifenbacker allowed to attend public high school. His six foot four, two
hundred pound body was nothing special to the family. They just chalked it up to country cooking
and hard farm work. However, at Tunica
High coaches, fellow students and the team’s supporters revered him. Armon the Forth was the highest scoring
player on the Lion’s baseball, basketball and football teams….ever. His family, like all families in Tunica,
never missed a Lion’s game. They were proud of Four’s athletic success as long
as there was time to plant and pick.
They never dreamed he would have offers to attend college and
discouraged the many recruiters who visited the farm trying to sell them on
their school. The boy was needed at home and that was that. That is until the folks from Ole Miss assured
Mama they would take care of her boy, that he would be safe, have home-cooked
meals and a nice bed and room of his own.
They had a harder time explaining how Papa could run his farm without Four
but after negotiations the coach of Ole Miss picked up Armon Four and delivered
him to the school’s campus in time for football practice.
In trade the Ole Miss Boosters, a group of rich Rebel fans
who always did what it took to get the athletes they wanted, left a shiny new
John Deere tractor to aid Papa. For Mama a brand new purple Cadillac complete with driving
lessons appeared in the gavel drive next to their house.
The Leifenbackers never missing a chance to cheer for their
son, drove a hundred miles each way in the purple Caddy to attend each Rebel
home game. They quickly learned to enjoy dining out and staying overnight at
the Oxford, Mississippi La Quinta Inn.
When Armon accepted a multi-million dollar contract with the
San Francisco Forty-Niners they could only wish their boy well. They had no idea where San Francisco was but knew
they could see him play on their wide screen TV, another perk furnished by the
Ole Miss Booster Club.
Armon became a member of the Niners team, faithfully sitting on the bench season after season. Then in 2014 Armon’s agility and accuracy
placed him at the top of the roster.
That happened when Michael Crabtree was injured in the forth quarter of
the tied-up Superbowl game and Coach Jim Harbaugh sent Armon in to replace
Crabtree. In the last minutes of the hard-fought battle Armon Leifenbacker the
Forth caught Colin Kaepernick’s winning pass and won the game for the Niners.
In between the shouts and cheering, a newscaster remarked, "This teams up the two players with the most difficult-to-pronounce names in
the league. By God, each name is spelled with so many letters they won't fit across the back of the player’s jerseys."
Howie Long, on the field with television cameras rolling, put a microphone in Leifenbacker’s
face. “Can you believe it! Superbowl 49
and the 49ers take the trophy. Armon
Leifenbacker, how does a farmer from Tunica, Mississippi get to the big leagues and make the winning play in a Superbowl game?”
Wet from a Gator Aid splash the hero laughed into the camera.
”Well, Howie. I guess you could say my football career started with a bunch of
lemons in a box.”