An old man lived alone. His only son was in prison.
The old man wrote a letter to his son.
I am feeling pretty bad because it looks like I won’t be able to plant my potato garden this year.
I’m just getting too old to be digging up a garden plot.
If you were here, all my troubles would be over.
I know you would dig the plot for me, if you weren’t in prison.
Shortly, the old man received this telegram:
‘For Heaven’s sake, Dad, don’t dig up the plot.
That’s where I buried the GUNS!!’
At 4 a.m. the next morning, a dozen FBI agents and local police officers showed up and dug up the entire garden without finding any guns.
Confused, the old man wrote another note to his son telling him what had happened, and asked him what to do next.
His son’s reply: ‘Go ahead and plant your potatoes, Dad.
It’s the best I could do for you, from here.’