It had been a hard winter, and cabin fever was starting to set in for Aint Berthy. It was weeks before the garden needed to be planted. And the chirping of the birds was so loud that it was starting to drive her crazy. Mockingbirds were the worst with their never-ending attempts to one-up the other birds. She was ripe for another road trip, but not on a bus this time. She had enough of bus stations.

She cut down trees, chopped her own firewood, and walked everywhere. She was in top physical shape. It was while walking to Bulls Gap to trade some free-range eggs for sugar that she stopped in the road to let a copperhead snake slither out of harm’s way and into the ditch. She liked snakes and didn’t bother them. She even had a five-year-old copperhead living under her back porch steps, and they never bothered each other. She named it Clyde after Sherriff Clyde Snowden over at Morristown because he’d once backed out on his word to her about getting rid of some prostitutes who’d moved into a house down the road from her and were attempting to set up shop. In the end, Berthy had to fix that problem herself. After that, she didn’t have much use for cops.

As she stopped to let “Clyde’s friend” pass, she happened to glance up and saw a barn with a sign painted on the roof that said, “SEE ROCK CITY.” She took that for a message of some kind. Berthy strongly believed in signs and omens. She’d never seen Rock City, but the snake and sign on the barn probably weren’t coincidences. She paused and pondered the possible meaning of what she’d just witnessed.

It was at that precise moment she remembered that Old Lady Gooch, who used to live up the road, still owed her some money from eight years ago. She’d moved to Chattanooga and lived near Rock City (Lookout Mountain). So, that was it! She was destined to go to Chattanooga and collect on the debt while experiencing new scenery and meeting interesting people!

While in Bulls Gap, she picked up a train schedule at the depot, went across the street to Gilley’s Hotel, and bought an ice cream cone. She loved to eat ice cream and watch the trains come through. She’d imagine what the lives of the passengers arriving and departing might be like. She loved traveling and dreamed about taking a trip by rail herself someday. As she sat on a bench and studied the train destinations and fares, she noticed that a ticket to and from Chattanooga cost $28.65. She was appalled at the ridiculously high price.

As she was leaving town, she met a hobo and walked with him for a bit. She asked him about hopping trains and getting free rides. He explained that freighthopping was dangerous and illegal, but he did it all the time and had traveled as far as San Francisco several times in a boxcar. He stressed safety, timing, and location. He told her to avoid busy areas where there were bulls (rail guards) and heavy security and to look for unguarded spots where the trains had to slow down or stop. He described a curve just before Whitesburg where trains slowed to less than 5 MPH and, if one were lucky, he (or she!) could just throw their bag into the boxcar and hop on for a free ride to the next stop.

He advised her to choose an enclosed boxcar so she could hide and stay out of bad weather. He also told her how she could use an old rail spike to wedge the door partially open so she wouldn’t be locked inside. Once, he’d been locked in a week before someone heard him banging on the door and let him out. And he cautioned her to respect other travelers. He said that hobos just peed out the open doors. He remarked that he wasn’t sure how a woman would manage that but suggested that she respect the property and not mess it up because he might want to ride in that same train car someday.

During the next few weeks, Berthy practiced jumping onto the bed of a horse-drawn freight wagon in the back pasture until she could easily do it with a full pack.

She pre-loaded a WWII military surplus backpack she’d picked up at a thrift store with a change of clothes, a blanket, her bedside alarm clock (she didn’t own a watch), pokes for cornbread and venison jerky (a deer made a mistake and got in her garden), a bottle of Percy Medicine, and a few other odds and ends like her special crystal, potions, candles, matches, and…Hercules, her reliable travel companion. It was a small Harrington & Richardson snub nose revolver in the unusual .44 Bull Dog caliber. Not many stores carried ammo for the old gun, but Hasson-Bryan Hardware Store in Morristown had it. It had to have the headstamp of .44 B.D. and not .44 Magnum. But it blew a hole the same size. Berthy knew all this stuff and was a good shot.

She carried Hercules and her valuables in special pouches she’d sewed into secret pockets in her petticoat. That way, she always knew where they were. Concerning money, she devised a system of tying bills, coins, and jewelry into little pouches and attaching them to the petticoat with short pieces of string. For example, suppose she needed seven dollars and thirty-three cents to buy something. In that case, she’d excuse herself to a private place where she could lift her dress and extract a five-dollar bill from the pouch with that denomination and another small sack with other bills or coin sizes. In a way, she was a walking cash register. It was an excellent way to keep close track of her valuables and still get relatively quick access. She had a special pocket on the outside of her dress where she carried a small military-size Bible her husband had brought back from the Army.

When around her daughter, Nova, or her cute grandchild, Jan, she’d just whip up her dress and count out the money. She felt safe walking around with her treasures safely hidden in her dress. They served as a secure place to hide her precious belongings. Being a guy, she was discreet, so I never saw her lift her dress.

(to be continued)

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