For a while when I was a kid we had the Sailor Bill Show, a low budget afternoon kid’s show featuring Sailor Bill and his sidekick Polly Parrot. Everyday Sailor Bill showed a couple of cartoons, interviewed some kids in the audience, talked to Polly Parrot, told a few jokes and made some effort to entertain us. Continue reading
Storytelling
Welcome Home, Baby
Mother had said she was having a baby when I was about eight but I wasn’t particularly interested in babies, So didn’t think a lot about it. I didn’t make the connection when when Daddy took us to spend the night with Miss Myra, one night. I think we were supposed to spend the night with Aunt Julie, but she’d gotten sick and couldn’t keep us, Continue reading
The Model T and Potholes
Mama held me tight on her lap in the backseat of Uncle Herb’s old Model T Ford as we bounced toward Clarksville, bound to spend the Fourth of July with Grandma and Grandpa Perkins. She was worried I’d fall out the window, though how I’d have managed it was a mystery to me with the death grip she me in. John sat next to the other window, a box with several quarts of Mama’s pickles and fresh tomatoes rattling between us. Daddy stayed behind to milk and take care of the garden. I don’t think he minded not going to Grandma’s at all.
In 1934, only a red-dirt road ran four miles between Cuthand Creek and Cuthand. Rutted and often impassable in winter. It was riddled with huge potholes in summer, a real obstacle course for the battered old Model T Uncle Herb had just acquired. We were delighted to see him and it, since he was the first in the family to own a car. Dust fogged up about a half-mile from home when the car bumped into a pot-hole and rattled to a stop. When it wouldnt start again, he lifted the hood, finding a
part had rattled off. Looking behind us, he found the part, replaced it, and off we went. This obviously wasn’t the first time it had worked loose. The threads were stripped nearly bare. After the next big bump, the same thing happened. He found the part and screwed it back on, though he knew it wouldn’t hold long. It didn’t. Not thirty feet down the road, it fell off again on a moderately smooth section of road. He left the left side of the hood up, had Uncle Dave sit on the right fender and hold the part in place as he slowly navigated between potholes the rest of the way in to Cuthand, where he could make some repairs. Mama kept a watch behind as Dave clung perilously to the fender while trying to keep the car running. It was a long four miles into Cuthand.
Wonderful Old Fourth of July
The Fourth of July seemed to be my father’s favorite holiday, maybe because it was celebrated outdoors, or perhaps because it didn’t involve the stress of decorating, the expense of gift-giving, or having a holiday meal indoors with a host of rowdy relatives. We always celebrated with his relatives, a spectacularly fertile family. Everyone of them had four to six children, exponentially more horrible as the families grew. Though no one ever drank at our gatherings, the wild shrieking of the kids and rowdy hijinks of the adults certainly gave that impression.
There was always barbecue, usually a goat or pig, sometimes slow cooked in a pit over night, accompanied by mountains of potato salad, slaw, sliced tomatoes, cucumbers, baked beans, cakes, watermelons, and several freezers of homemade ice-cream. At any time a squalling kid or two bowled over by one of the bigger ones might be sitting atop a freezer holding a washcloth to a knot on his head while his daddy cranked it. There were plenty of cousins for two baseball teams, made even better if some aunts and uncles joined in. It was a job keeping the little guys out of the baselines , but most of them survived it.
Long before the days of paper plates, clean up was a nightmare. Lots of women thought “the girls” ought to do dishes. Thank God, Mother stuck up for us, but if we were at someone else’s house with teenage daughter’s, their mothers might insist. Cleanup for thirty or forty people could take a couple of hours. that was a nightmare for just two or three.
i loved to slip up on the women in the family and hear gossip. Should I be foolish enough to ask a question, I was busted outdoors. I usually couldn’t keep my mouth shut long enough to hear the good stuff.
In the dusk, we chased fireflies until time to light fireworks, thrilling to the Roman Candles and Sparklers. I never learned to love firecrackers again after exploding one in my hand. As the darkness closed in, Mothers spread quilts on the ground as the storytelling began, delightful tales of long ago childhood pranks, old family stories, and finally after the younger ones drifted off, ghost stories, made all the more delicious because Maw Maw believed every world she told. There is no better story tha one told by a true believer. How I would love to revisit one of those nights!
Uncle Albert and Aunt Jewel, the Lowdown
As I got a little older, I found out Uncle Albert and Aunt Jewel weren’t dull; they were just worn out. Besides that, Uncle Albert had a fascinating physical attribute Daddy slipped up and mentioned one day, to his later regret. Uncle Albert had a tail! From that moment forward, my brother and I stalked him, probabably the first nasty little, Continue reading
Uncle Albert and Aunt Jewel
Uncle Albert and Aunt Jewel were dull as mud. All Uncle Albert ever said was “Don’t mess with that!” or “That’ll fall on you.” Normally, Aunt Jewell only coughed and told us to go play outside, but some reason I once spent an endless afternoon with her when she made a point to converse with me. I was impressed when she’d told me an acronym for spelling the word contents. “Coons ought not to eat nuts so soon.” Then she laughed, saying coons didn’t eat nuts, squirrels did. The joke was wasted on me, but I was surprised she had the wit to think something was funny. I’d never heard her laugh before. Her incessant smoking made her rattly laugh sound like nails scratching on tin, She also told me that if you hit the bottom when you were falling in a dream, you’d die, as well no matter how long a dream seemed to last, it only took one second to dream it.
I knew Aunt Jewel had split Uncle Albert and his first wife up. I studied this dumpy, gray -haired, old lady who coughed every breath wondering how he could have possibly have chosen her over anybody else. She whined, stared off in the distance, and never had anything interesting to say. Her only vaguely entertaining attribute was that she’d strung Crackerjack prizes together on a leather strip which she sometimes allowed me to play with as long as I sat on the floor in front of her, though she was oblivious to all my hints that I really needed them.
That pretty much wrapped up my relationship with Aunt Jewel, except the time she fell out the back door. Uncle Albert offered her a cigarette. She cried saying, ” I want a smoke so bad but I’m too sore to cough.” That was the first time I’d seen an adult cry.
Southern Hospitality
A few weeks before Kathleen’s baby was due in June, 1947, Bill made arrangements for his friend Lon’s wife Sally to take her for her doctor’s visit. He dropped her off not long after six in the morning, picked Lon up, leaving Kathleen to spend the day with Sandy, Lon’s wife. The couples had Continue reading
Don’t You Start!
Grocery shopping with Mother was a thrilling excursion. Until after I was three, , Mother bought on credit at Darnell’s Store, the only store in our little neighborhood. Housewives danced around out of Old Man Darnell’s reach while Mrs Darnell scowled from behind the counter. Her mean little Pekingnese ran out nipping at us every time we stepped in the store, seeming to prefer the tender legs of toddlers, while Mrs. Darnell snapped that he didn’t bite, even after he drew blood. Mrs Darnell’s bald spot was set off spectacularly by her frizzy-dyed black hair. Mrs. Darnell and that hateful little dog will always be burned in my mind as a witch and her familiar. Old Man Darnell always had a big brown stogie hanging out 
his mouth, which I was convinced was a turd. Any urge to smoke died then and there. I could never ask Mother about the cigar since I couldn’t phrase my question without forbidden words. I would have had to substitute gee-gee for the much-admired doo-doo word my cousins tossed about so freely. Even, I at three and a half, knew it wouldn’t do to ask why Old Man Darnell always had a piece of gee gee in his mouth.
Eventually, Mother learned to drive, freeing her from Darnell’s Store. She insisted on driving into Springhill, the nearest town with an A&P and a Piggly Wiggly. She had to agree not to spend more than twelve dollars a week, since “money didn’t grow on trees,” nor were we a rich two-car family. Unless Daddy caught a ride to work, on grocery day, Mother had to take him to work, come back home till the business day started, Attend to her business, then pick him up at the end of his shift. That was eighty miles of driving, not including in-town driving, all this in company of at least two and maybe three small children if Phyllis were not in school. First we had to drive by Piggly Wiggly where Mother parked to read all the specials posted on on butcher paper in the windows. With that money-saving information firmly imbedded in her mind, off we headed to the A&P where her genius proved itself.
Before entering, Mother powdered her nose, put on fresh lipstick, combed her hair, then turned her attention to us. In the days before she “had was so many children, she didn’t know what to do,” we were all dressed up. Mother was sure to remark later who she saw who “went to town without lipstick.” We’d be eating whatever was ten-cans-for-a-dollar, reduced for quick sale, or was on special that week. We always got a box of Animal Crackers to munch in the cart as Mother inspected every can, potato, and chicken for the best buy. When we’d start badgering her for cookies, candy, and cereal with prizes, she’d say, “Don’t start! Just don’t start!” While Mother was critiquing the chickens, I remember poking my finger through the cellophane into the hambones. I don’t think she ever caught me. No Kellogg’s Cornflakes for us. We got Sunnyfield, the store brand. Long after the Animal Crackers were gone, Mother finally let the bag boy load her groceries in the trunk. He needn’t expect a tip. If she had another nickel, it was going for the specials at Piggly Wiggly.
Not long before I started school, Mother unwittingly discovered a way to ensure good behavior the whole time we were in town. She’d say, “remind me to take you by the Health Unit to get a polio shot.” I was perfect till we passed the outskirts of town.
Onward to Piggly Wiggly, where she’d grab up their specials. Eventually, we’d head home with bags and bags of groceries: twenty-five pounds of flour, five pounds of dried pinto beans, a three pound can of shortening, twenty- five pounds of potatoes, five pounds of meal, three pounds of coffee, powdered milk, since it was cheaper. It seemed like it took a dozen trips to drag all those paper bags in. Invariably, a couple would break and have us chasing canned vegetables. She usually bought chicken, since that was the cheapest meat, but sometimes there’d be hamburger, roast or fish.
When I go to the grocery store with Mother now, I don’t get Animal Crackers, though I could if I wanted to. The other day were were headed into the grocery store when Mother laughed and said “Linda, will you buy me……?”
She does this as a joke every time we go in a store, now. As always, I answer back, just like she always did when I was a kid, “don’t start! Just don’t you start!” This particular day, an infuriated elderly gentleman heard the exchange, and inferred I was being unkind. I could have lost an eye before we made our explanations. It’s good to pay attention to what going on around you before opening your mouth.
I Wanna Bite!
When my Brother Billy was about two and a half years old, Daddy and Mother stopped by the A &W Rootbeer Drive-In for a treat after supper one night, way back when the brought those frosty mugs out to the car, no to-go orders. You had to finish your Rootbeer before leaving. We’d already had dinner, so we knew we were getting Rootbeer. A fellow who pulled up next to us ordered a hotdog. In the heat of the July evening, everyone had their car windows down. Billy was always ready to eat! Naturally, when he saw the guy’s hotdog, he wanted one, too. Mother reminded him he’d already eaten and he’d only be getting rootbeer. As the young man raised his hotdog to chomp down, Billy called out, “I wanna bite!”
Surprised, the fellow looked over to see a small boy on his mother’s lap, leaning out a car window, begging for a bit. Quickly, he tried to resume his meal. Again, “I wanna bite!” It’s really hard to shut a hotdog hungry little kid up, though Mother tried. I know we would have left if we hadn’t still had Rootbeer to finish and mugs for pickup. After trying a couple more times to eat despite Billy’s plaintive begging, he cranked his car and left.
Nutsrok 