We also had a Store at the end of La Grange road where it comes out on Hwy 48 now, the Name of it was Hardens, and one day they told me to get in the Car, we were going over to Harden's Store, the County Nurse was going to be there at a certain time to give Shots and I had to have one, now I knew that this was going to Hurt, but they were a lot bigger than I was and very soon I found myself over at the Store looking at a Big Fat Woman with a White nurses Uniform on and her little White Hat, She was eating a Chocolate Bar of Candy and I hated her the minute I laid my eyes on Her , and she said she would be done in a Minute and she Would give me the Shot. too soon She was through and she got that big old Needle and stuck me and you talk about Hurting.
I reckon that that was the first Shot that I had ever Had and it hurt bad, you know the Needles used to be Bigger than they are now, and they are Sharper now so they don't hurt as much, Back then you would go into the Dr's Office and there was a nice Chrome Shiny thing and it had Boiling Water in it and the Needles and Syringes were in the Boiling Water and if they gave you a Shot they would take a pair of Tongs and get them one out and let it Cool and then they would fill it up with Medicine and give you a Shot, it sure is better now.
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Random memories
I was always so bashful as a kid, and would hardly look at anybody unless they were part of the family. I think that one reason for it was because back during the time that the road ended at our house, every old man that came along and stopped, the whole bunch would go out on the porch to meet them if it was warm weather. We didn't get to see too many people and when somebody did stop, everybody wanted to know what he had to say. Well, I would get behind my momma, hang on to her dress tail, and just peek around at them. Then, that old man would say "give me that boy and I will cut his ears off." He would bring out a big old knife and that would nearly scare me to death. So, I went through my early years so bashful that I hardly ever said anything. Remembering my first school pictures, I had my head down and looked up at the photographer (you know - similar to having on a pair of glasses reading something that was laying in your lap, and looking up over the glasses talking to somebody). That was how the picture looked, minus the glasses of course. I finally got over that when I reached about 16 years old - except toward the girls, of course. I still didn't talk too much to the girls.
There were some other people that people would speak to, but I think that some of them were scared of them just like I was. There was a man named Emmet King, and I reckon he was alright - but he had a brother whose name was Junie. Junie walked around with a double-bladed axe across his shoulder, and we didn't know if he was all there or not. So, if I ever saw him, I would go somewhere else. Me and my much older brother Cecil (88) were talking about Junie here awhile back, and I brought up the axe. He said that Junie carried it because people would often hire him to clean up a place that had become grown up. No matter - I stayed away from him.
Then, there was an old woman that would roam around all over the country. She lived somewhere around Wolf Springs (a community about 6 miles ENE of Old Bethel), and her name was Dilcy Dawson. She carried a tow sack (also called a croaker sack, if you don't know what a tow sack is), and I don't know what she had in the sack, but she jabbered about something all the time. She would pass the house every once in a while and stop, and my daddy would go on at her. Also, there were two other women that lived together down the road toward Leighton, which were sisters. They were commonly referred to as "old maids."
Of course we had a mail man, and he lived at Leighton. People would say that the two old maids were struck on him, and would bake a cake, then leave some in the mailbox for him. Sometimes he would come by our house an hour or so late, and somebody would say "Yeah he's been down at those old women's house." I don't know where he actually was (and didn't really care), but people had to talk about something.
Sometimes, we would get up in the morning and around 8 O'clock they would start ringing the bell in the steeple of Old Bethel Baptist Church. Everybody knew what this meant, as the signal was used to indicate that someone had died. They would ring the bell, and some of the men would gather and dig the grave. I remember making the statement one time to somebody, that "old so-and-so was so sorry - they would have to hire somebody to dig his grave." Of course now you have to hire them all dug....
Courtland Air Base
Around 1940 the Air Force built a base at Courtland, Alabama to train people how to fly those great big bombers. I think they were called B-26's...anyhow, they were some great big airplanes, and had 4 big propeller driven engines (the Jet Engine had not been in production yet). I would be out in the field hoeing cotton and couldn't get anything done for watching those big airplanes lumbering around up there. Anytime you looked up, you could see 2 or 3, and there was a steady drone of those big motors. They never done anything like... make a bombing run or anything - just flew around, but I still had to watch them.
Along towards the end of the war (when they invented the P51 Mustang), I got to see one of the P51's fly over every once in awhile. Boy, those things were fast, and had a prop jet engine. I'm sure most of you have seen them on airliners - they just go faster, and have a different sound to them. Those things were really pretty.
Monday, November 29, 2010
It was murder, but she got away with it
Right up at the NW corner of our property there lived some people, and they were just ordinary people. The man got a job at Reynolds when they first built it, and I don't know how long he had been working there, but they had the first TV set in the community. They had a girl that was a year or two younger than me, which was spoiled rotten. Well, one day 2 or 3 of us passed by there, and she asked if we wanted to see their new TV. Since none of us had ever seen one, we went in and looked. There were only two VHF stations in Birmingham, and there was so much snow on the screen that we couldn't tell what they were doing. So, we lost interest in that pretty fast. Then in the late 1940's, they bought a new Buick automobile. Well, it was a 1949 Buick to be exact, with a Dynaflow transmission. I think it only had a forward and backward gear, and you could really hear that thing coming down the gravel road. It had a kind of roar about it, and we all knew who it was. But, we would still all run to the door and watch her go by. Sometimes she would wave, and other times just smile. Well, everything went along well for some time, until somebody got her hooked on dope. That was the first time that I ever had heard anything about dope, and her old man would come home and she would be stoned out of her mind. Since everybody had wells to get their water from, he would just go draw a bucket of water and pour it on her. I don't remember how long this went on, but I do remember one day in January they got into it, and he ran around the house to come in at the back door and she met him there with a shotgun. She shot him through the screen door right in the mouth with that shotgun. I remember one time telling somebody about it and they asked "did it it kill him?" Well, I suppose it blew his head off, but never did hear for sure. He was a good man, and she had some kin folks and a neighbor's son that made him out to be the sorriest person in that part of the country. They all lied until they got her off scott-free. She tried to keep living there, and even had a street light put up. But, she finally moved to Iowa to try to get away from it all. She lived out there for a few years, but eventually came back here and married another man. Years later, she had a stroke and couldn't move anything but one hand. I heard that she was in one of the nursing homes in Russellville, and I didn't live very far from it. One day I was passing by there, and decided I would just go in and see what she looked like. The nurse warned me not to get close enough that she could hit me, or she would really lay one on me. She finally died ,and was buried in the cemetary at Old Bethel Baptist Church. I think that some of the people objected to her being buried there, but allowed it anyway. The old house still stands there to this day. The front porch has fallen off of it, but the house itself is still standing. So you see - she paid for her sin even before she died.
My love for airplanes
I have always been fascinated by airplanes since a kid, and our house at Old Bethel was located in a direct-path from airplanes traveling between Muscle Shoals and Birmingham. Almost all airplanes that went to Birmingham passed right behind our house. This must have taken place before 2-way radios, because the Govt constructed beacon lights from Muscle Shoals to Birmingham so the airplanes could find their way at night. We could sit on our front porch and see the light go round and round at night, and was a pretty powerful light - as you might expect. The beam shined up into the sky at about a 45 degree angle, and it would turn so the pilots would know what it was. They were spaced far enough apart that you couldn't see but one, but I am sure the pilot could always see the next one up ahead. So, they just followed the beacons from Muscle Shoals to Birmingham. The light visible to us was located at Flat Rock, and if you know where Flat Rock is - well you know more than I do. I would ask my brothers where Flat Rock was, and they would say that it was "up yonder in the prairie". That is another thing I never knew, where it was at "The Prairie", but it was somewhere between C.C. Smith School and Hatton. There used to be a 2 Engine DC-3 airplane that would pass over our house at 9:15 AM every morning going to Birmingham, which I never did see coming back. Anyhow, I would hear those engines and nearly tear that door down to get outside and watch the airplane go by. There were also some old, single-engine planes that passed, but none was as pretty as that shiny aluminum DC-3 in the morning. We called it the mail plane, but I don't know whether it actually carried the mail or not.
One day our school class went on a field trip, and one of the stops was at the airport. We were going to have the opportunity to watch that pretty thing take off (the aluminum DC-3), but it was raining that morning. So, we pulled up to the airport in the school bus, and it was really raining hard. I remember somebody telling us that the plane wouldn't be going today because of the torrential downpour. Boy, that blew my whole day.
I want to tell you a little bit about the first rabbbit I ever killed, and then I will let it rest awhile. There was a wooded area down in a low place, which was good for rabbit hunting. So, my brother had a beagle hound and a 16 gauge, double-barreled shotgun, and he would bring both of them to the house and leave them. Me and that dog done some serious hunting. Anyway, one day after school we went hunting and she jumped a rabbit. It took her a way over yonder, and then circled around and was headed back. The dog would bark a little along, and finally I saw the rabbit that she was chasing. It was a long way ahead of the dog, and it came down my way, stopped, and jumped over to the side of where it had just come down. Then, it went back about 15 feet and would jump over again, and come back down. After doing that 3 or 4 times, the rabbit stopped along farther and came to a bush that was in front of me. This bush was not too far from me, and the rabbit just sat there a while resting. It seemed to be waiting on that dog to figure out all the trickery it had pulled off earlier, so finally I just raised the shotgun and shot into the bush. I walked over there, and there it lay - dead as a doornail. I grabbed it up and ran all the way home to show everybody what I did.
Going to the Cotton Gin
When the cotton had opened up pretty well, school would let out for a few weeks for us to pick it. Back then, school was out twice a year - once to hoe cotton, and again to pick it. I think that it took about 1200 pounds on the wagon to make a 500 lb bale of ginned cotton with, because there was a lot of seed in the boll. My brother said that we would get $25.00 for the average bale of cotton. The evening before we were going to the Gin, we would pull that wagon into a pool of water so that the wagon wheels would swell. It was an iron-tired wagon, and this helped keep the iron tires from coming off while going down the road with all that cotton. If that had happened, it would have been alot of trouble. We would keep an eye on the wheels, and if a tire even got over to one side a little - we had a hammer that we would knock it back on with.
Finallly, we reached Leighton (where the gin was), and my daddy gave me and my sister Doris a nickel each. So, we went downtown while he waited in line to get the cotton ginned, and me and her went to this store ran by two people who were deaf and mute. They sold candy and cigarettes, and I don't know what else. Anyway, we bought 5 cigarettes that were a penny each, because they had packs that were opened and would sell you one or ever how many you wanted. So, we took our 5 cigarettes and would walk up and down the sidewalk smoking like we were really something. But, we knew not to let my daddy know that we had bought cigarettes. Finally, we got our cotton ginned and made it back home.
The big Tree
Everybody knew what you were talking about when you mentioned the "big tree". We had an old log house on our property that was rented out to people, and standing about 60 feet in front of this old log house was the biggest tree in this part of the country. after talking with my remaining Brother and Sister we have decided that the Tree was 5 foot through . The limbs were about 18 to 20 inches through, and most were about 25 feet long. Once the old house got to where nobody would live in it, we kept all of our plow tools under this tree. If my daddy ever needed anything like a plow point, clevis, or something similar, he would tell me to run over to the "big tree" and get whatever was needed. I suppose that tree was every bit of 200 Years old. what happened was that the inside Rotted and it was Hollow and my Brother says that even the Limbs were Hollow, and that weakens the rest to the Point that it is easier Broken, anyhow Lightening was what finally brought it down.
One of my Daughters live at the Old Home Place, and my Brother Beryl Planted a little Water Oak there by the Pump where we got our Water and this we agree on was 1929, and it always has had plenty of Water and Today it is 81 years old and is approximately 4 ft through and has Big limbs and you can see this one Today for it is still Standing and Healthy looking and I don't believe it has ever been hit by Lightening yet.
Where I live now, the house is about 800 feet from the main road. Lightning struck a pretty big tree one day, and when it got done with it there remained only a piece standing about 15 feet tall - disentegrating the rest of it. There were a few limbs lying around, but no bark at all was left on the tree. It was laying in a circle around what was left standing, and that was certainly a very powerful bolt of lightning.
One of my Daughters live at the Old Home Place, and my Brother Beryl Planted a little Water Oak there by the Pump where we got our Water and this we agree on was 1929, and it always has had plenty of Water and Today it is 81 years old and is approximately 4 ft through and has Big limbs and you can see this one Today for it is still Standing and Healthy looking and I don't believe it has ever been hit by Lightening yet.
Where I live now, the house is about 800 feet from the main road. Lightning struck a pretty big tree one day, and when it got done with it there remained only a piece standing about 15 feet tall - disentegrating the rest of it. There were a few limbs lying around, but no bark at all was left on the tree. It was laying in a circle around what was left standing, and that was certainly a very powerful bolt of lightning.
Farming and making a living
We, like most other people around us, farmed for a living. We had a 1-row Allis Chalmers tractor, and it had a one-disc breaking plow that would turn about 12 inches of dirt. It would take you forever to get the land broke up to even start anything else. I would ride that thing all day long - every day, and had the habit of looking back to watch it plow. This caused my neck to stay sore all the time, but finally after about a month I would get all the ground broke that we were going to work. Then came the harrowing to break up all the clods. We had a disc harrow, and it was probably ten foot long - so it didn't take a long time to cut the clods up. Once that was completed, it was time for planting crops. Mules were used for this task, and the fertilizer was applied to the soil first. Then, another person would come along and plant what we were going to grow with a planter.
After all of the hard work was completed, it was up to the good Lord to give you rain and plenty of sunshine to make it grow. Once everything came up and grew to about 3 inches high, we had to go through with a hoe and cut out over half of what had came up. You see, we didn't know back then that stuff would grow thick like they plant it now, and probably wouldn't have because the fertilizer was much different. We also had to keep the grass hoed out of it, because it would use up the fertilizer that was intended for the crop being grown. After hoeing it twice - then plowing it 3 times, the first of July arrived and we would lay it by and just wait for it to make corn or cotton - or whatever you planted.
I don't remember this, but my brother was telling me about it.... It was getting terribly dry, for there hadn't been any rain in quite some time, and the crops had began to suffer greatly. The plants began to wilt, and the people were getting extremely worried about it. You see, if you didn't grow anything, then you didn't eat. So, a few of the men went over to preacher Billy Harrison's house for a visit. He preached and farmed too, and was the most humble, best man I have ever known. Anyway, they went over there and asked preacher Bill to pray for rain. He did, and it wasn't very long until it came a good rain, then everything was alright.
Sunday, November 28, 2010
Things were starting to look up read 2nd
The County finally built an actual road through our place - which is called Waldrep Loop now. Then, they installed power lines and everybody had electricity. We were surely proud of that. I remember the electric bill would run about $3.00 a month, but before that, we would have to keep the milk down in the hollow where there were small streams of water. There were some places that had a pretty good size hole of water, and we would put the milk in a gallon jug and drop it into one of these holes for refrigeration purposes. It was always in the shade, and the streams all came from really cold underground springs. This provided a way for the milk to be kept longer without spoiling. But, slowly people got refrigerators. I remember quite well going fishing in these little holes of water. There were 4 bluffs, and the water ran off of 2 of them, and the other two only ran in the winter time or when it rained. One at the south end of the hollow had a good hole of water, and water stayed there year round. I would go to the store and buy 5 little fish hooks, and with a piece of thread, a cork bottle stopper, and a few fishing worms - would go down there and fish. I would catch something too - we called them perch, and they were about 2 or maybe 3 inches long, but every time that cork would bobble we would jerk.
Before the electricity came, some people had ice boxes to keep food from spoiling. An ice truck would come by almost every day, and sometimes we would buy what was supposed to be 25 lbs - but by the time it got to our house those 25 lb blocks would weigh about 12 to 15 pounds because it had melted. After I graduated from Colbert County High in 1953, I got a job at J.B.Logamarsino working at the Ice Plant. We called it pulling ice, as the blocks weighed 400 lbs when you first made them. This was dumped, and they had a machine that would saw that block into 25 and 50 lb blocks for sale. I was really making the money, and that was my first official job. It paid $.80 cents an hour, or $32.00 a week .
Getting ahead of myself.... We had got a Model--A Ford, and it was better than the T--Model. I remember a trip to see a doctor at Florence Clinic, where it was just me, my mom, and daddy. Right after they built Oneal Bridge, you had to pay a toll to cross it, and the toll was a quarter. On the south side (Sheffield side)there is a slight hill, which was a little bit of a problem for the 35 horsepower engine of the Model A to get up. Daddy never let a hill slip up on him, and he would build up enough speed to cross the hill without having to change to another gear. Well, we were coming across the bridge southward, and about the time he got on the north end of the bridge he began to build up speed to get us over the hill at the south end. By the time we got to the south end I dare say that we were making 35 or 40 MPH. This episode probably happened about 1939, which would have made me 5 years old. Anyway, there was a toll booth there, and a man to take the toll from you. Since Papa John was building speed to get over that hill, my momma told him "John you are going to have to stop to pay the toll", and he said "I ain't stopping"! Then she says, "what are we going to do then?" He gave her a quarter and told her to pitch it to the man as we passed, and that is what we did. As you might imagine, the man was gettting excited, because he thought we were going to run through without paying. But, in the end he found his money and we made it over the hill, so everything worked out alright.
About that time World War 2 broke out and everybody was worried including me. I was afraid that the war might get over here, and the government kept everything hush-hush - not wanting the general public to know what was really going on. They would bring a movie to the school every Thursday night to try to keep people's minds occupied. It would cost a quarter to go to the movie, and most everybody went. All men that were able to fight were in the military, and the women went to work in the plants to make material to fight the war with.
I had two sisters that were about 20 that went to Memphis to get a job, and I think they got a job in an aircraft plant - which built one part, like an aircraft wing.
Christmas time came, and they brought me a cap pistol and a scabbard. Man.... I was in seventh heaven. My brother lived right below us, and he had a boy about 5 or 6 years younger than me, but we played some serious games of cowboy. One day, we engaged in a game and I was laying behind something. I threw down on him and my gun barrel hit whatever I was laying behind. Unexpectedly, I broke the barrel off completely back to the cylinder where the shells go. As you might expect, my world fell apart right there, because I knew that from then on I would have to play with a pistol with no barrel.
Before the electricity came, some people had ice boxes to keep food from spoiling. An ice truck would come by almost every day, and sometimes we would buy what was supposed to be 25 lbs - but by the time it got to our house those 25 lb blocks would weigh about 12 to 15 pounds because it had melted. After I graduated from Colbert County High in 1953, I got a job at J.B.Logamarsino working at the Ice Plant. We called it pulling ice, as the blocks weighed 400 lbs when you first made them. This was dumped, and they had a machine that would saw that block into 25 and 50 lb blocks for sale. I was really making the money, and that was my first official job. It paid $.80 cents an hour, or $32.00 a week .
Getting ahead of myself.... We had got a Model--A Ford, and it was better than the T--Model. I remember a trip to see a doctor at Florence Clinic, where it was just me, my mom, and daddy. Right after they built Oneal Bridge, you had to pay a toll to cross it, and the toll was a quarter. On the south side (Sheffield side)there is a slight hill, which was a little bit of a problem for the 35 horsepower engine of the Model A to get up. Daddy never let a hill slip up on him, and he would build up enough speed to cross the hill without having to change to another gear. Well, we were coming across the bridge southward, and about the time he got on the north end of the bridge he began to build up speed to get us over the hill at the south end. By the time we got to the south end I dare say that we were making 35 or 40 MPH. This episode probably happened about 1939, which would have made me 5 years old. Anyway, there was a toll booth there, and a man to take the toll from you. Since Papa John was building speed to get over that hill, my momma told him "John you are going to have to stop to pay the toll", and he said "I ain't stopping"! Then she says, "what are we going to do then?" He gave her a quarter and told her to pitch it to the man as we passed, and that is what we did. As you might imagine, the man was gettting excited, because he thought we were going to run through without paying. But, in the end he found his money and we made it over the hill, so everything worked out alright.
About that time World War 2 broke out and everybody was worried including me. I was afraid that the war might get over here, and the government kept everything hush-hush - not wanting the general public to know what was really going on. They would bring a movie to the school every Thursday night to try to keep people's minds occupied. It would cost a quarter to go to the movie, and most everybody went. All men that were able to fight were in the military, and the women went to work in the plants to make material to fight the war with.
I had two sisters that were about 20 that went to Memphis to get a job, and I think they got a job in an aircraft plant - which built one part, like an aircraft wing.
Christmas time came, and they brought me a cap pistol and a scabbard. Man.... I was in seventh heaven. My brother lived right below us, and he had a boy about 5 or 6 years younger than me, but we played some serious games of cowboy. One day, we engaged in a game and I was laying behind something. I threw down on him and my gun barrel hit whatever I was laying behind. Unexpectedly, I broke the barrel off completely back to the cylinder where the shells go. As you might expect, my world fell apart right there, because I knew that from then on I would have to play with a pistol with no barrel.
My life begins read 1st
I was born to Mr. and Mrs. John Vandiver on February 11th, 1934. Being right after the Great Depression, times were extremely hard, as you might imagine. There were 12 of us children because people back then had to have a lot of help to raise a crop. However, I don't remember there being but seven at home at one given time, and we lived just like the Amish people do now, the only difference being that they have money and we didn't have squat. I remember we would go to church in the wagon, and they would wrap me up in a quilt because I was the baby. Of course this was only done in the winter time, because it was extremely cold.
We lived 8 miles south of Leighton, about 2 miles from Old Bethel Baptist Church, and about 2 miles from LaGrange School. For years, there was just a dirt road that led to our house, which turned off of what is now HWY 48. Of course the road ended at our house and if we ever seen anybody coming, we knew that they were coming to see us.
There were a few houses back in the fields, but the people that lived there either walked or rode a horse to get where they were going. I remember there was a man named Waldrep that lived up there in the field and he would pass by our house frequently. He sipped on the bottle pretty often, and if he ever came by and was drunk, he would stop and want to argue about the Bible with my Daddy. For the record, we went to the Church of Christ.
Like I said, we were dirt poor, but at one time had 200 acres of good farm land. Daddy sold some of it, and all I ever remember us having were 114 acres. We would farm it and make about 15 bales of cotton each year, raised a lot of corn to feed the cattle with, horses, pigs, chickens, and of course food for own own use, too. There were probably about 50 acres of timber on it. There was a man there at Old Bethel that had a Grist Mill, and he would grind meal from your corn to make cornbread out of. So, every Saturday morning we had to shell a bushel of corn and take it to have it ground. Fortunately, we had a corn sheller for this task - or it would have taken us half a day to shell that much corn. After it was ground into meal, he would take so many scoops for grinding it - for we had no money to pay him with. In the winter, we would have to go cut enough wood to try to keep warm with until the following weekend. That was me and my sister's job after we got in from school. We had to get that crosscut saw and cut enough firewood to last until the next evening, and then it was the same thing over again the next day. We had a rack to put the wood in to saw it up, and I would have to sit on it while they sawed it up into sticks. When spring came, things got a lot more busy. I think I take this up later - we also had a Molasses Mill, and my daddy could make the best molasses you ever tasted. Everybody in the country would bring their sugar cane for him to make molasses with. We fired the cooking pan with wood, so everybody would bring about 5 wagon loads of wood to fire the furnace with. They would cut it just like fence posts, you couldn't tell the difference and then they would haul in the sugar cane. This happened in about August or September.
This thing was built on kind of a hill. The cane grinder sat up on a flat place, and then the juice would come out of the grinder and go into a barrel. From there, a pipe would go underground - say 30 feet to another barrel, only this barrel was down lower than the one at the grinder and the juice would would run into the top of it. I really enjoyed catching some juice in a glass, then drinking it. Children can be expected to do such things - even back then. Then there was the cooking pan, and you could unplug the bottom barrel and run more juice into the pan to cook. By the way, the cane grinder was pulled by a mule, and it was fixed where that mule would go around in a circle. This mule walked all day long, and there was always somebody there feeding the sugar cane into the grinder.
Usually my daddy would take so many gallons for making the syrup for the customer, and as you might expect - we had it everywhere. Needless to say, we never ran out of home made syrup.... After awhile it would turn to sugar and looked alot like ice cream salt. The only downside was that it caused our teeth to rot out, but we would have molasses, eggs, ham, and lots of biscuits for morning meals. The ham had usually been in the salt too long, and was so salty that you couldn't eat it. Of course we had a smoke house and a meat box for storing 2 or 3 hogs that were killed each year, and we would salt them down to cure so they wouldn't ruin. The only problem was, daddy just didn't get around to doing everything when it was supposed to happen, and the meat was left too long in the salt, which made it too salty to eat. There was a store over at Old Bethel and he would sit over there and talk all day. The fellow that ran the stores' name was Bob Ware, so naturally everybody called it Bob Ware's Store. Stores back then had a smell about them that smelled good. They had some things in bulk - which had a pleasant odor to it. Coffee was one thing, and sugar was another. They also had what they called "rolling stores", but we called them the "Peddler". Boy, it had a good smell too.... He would come down the road and start blowing that horn in time for you to get out and stop him.
We finallly ended up with a T Model Ford, and I would slip around and crawl up on the fender, raise the side, and play like I was working on it. All cars back then had a crank, and a T Model Ford had a Magneeter. (at least that's what I remember it being called) Anyhow, you would have to turn the crank to where that thing (magneeter) would buzz, and then you give it a turn. Sometimes it would crank, and sometimes it wouldn't. Sometimes it would kick backward like a mule, (i'm talking about the crank kicking backward).
My mother's parents lived at Waterloo (which is west of Florence), and it was around 50 miles from our house to theirs. Every so often, we would all load up and go to see them. I can barely remember 1 trip, we would leave our house about sun-up, and would get to theirs about 2 in the afternoon. The reason being - we had those old synthetic tubes in the tires, and because of the heat - you would always have a flat tire on the way. Of course everybody had tire tools and a pump, and also a box of patching on board. So, you would jack it up, fix the flat, and ride until you had another one. Sometimes, the patch would just get hot and come off and let the air out, but you could expect a few flat tires when traveling that far. We would get to Waterloo and where the road forks, we would go to the left about a block, and we would have a good old time. We always left for home early the next morning, and it was the same problem with flat tires all over again.
We lived 8 miles south of Leighton, about 2 miles from Old Bethel Baptist Church, and about 2 miles from LaGrange School. For years, there was just a dirt road that led to our house, which turned off of what is now HWY 48. Of course the road ended at our house and if we ever seen anybody coming, we knew that they were coming to see us.
There were a few houses back in the fields, but the people that lived there either walked or rode a horse to get where they were going. I remember there was a man named Waldrep that lived up there in the field and he would pass by our house frequently. He sipped on the bottle pretty often, and if he ever came by and was drunk, he would stop and want to argue about the Bible with my Daddy. For the record, we went to the Church of Christ.
Like I said, we were dirt poor, but at one time had 200 acres of good farm land. Daddy sold some of it, and all I ever remember us having were 114 acres. We would farm it and make about 15 bales of cotton each year, raised a lot of corn to feed the cattle with, horses, pigs, chickens, and of course food for own own use, too. There were probably about 50 acres of timber on it. There was a man there at Old Bethel that had a Grist Mill, and he would grind meal from your corn to make cornbread out of. So, every Saturday morning we had to shell a bushel of corn and take it to have it ground. Fortunately, we had a corn sheller for this task - or it would have taken us half a day to shell that much corn. After it was ground into meal, he would take so many scoops for grinding it - for we had no money to pay him with. In the winter, we would have to go cut enough wood to try to keep warm with until the following weekend. That was me and my sister's job after we got in from school. We had to get that crosscut saw and cut enough firewood to last until the next evening, and then it was the same thing over again the next day. We had a rack to put the wood in to saw it up, and I would have to sit on it while they sawed it up into sticks. When spring came, things got a lot more busy. I think I take this up later - we also had a Molasses Mill, and my daddy could make the best molasses you ever tasted. Everybody in the country would bring their sugar cane for him to make molasses with. We fired the cooking pan with wood, so everybody would bring about 5 wagon loads of wood to fire the furnace with. They would cut it just like fence posts, you couldn't tell the difference and then they would haul in the sugar cane. This happened in about August or September.
This thing was built on kind of a hill. The cane grinder sat up on a flat place, and then the juice would come out of the grinder and go into a barrel. From there, a pipe would go underground - say 30 feet to another barrel, only this barrel was down lower than the one at the grinder and the juice would would run into the top of it. I really enjoyed catching some juice in a glass, then drinking it. Children can be expected to do such things - even back then. Then there was the cooking pan, and you could unplug the bottom barrel and run more juice into the pan to cook. By the way, the cane grinder was pulled by a mule, and it was fixed where that mule would go around in a circle. This mule walked all day long, and there was always somebody there feeding the sugar cane into the grinder.
Usually my daddy would take so many gallons for making the syrup for the customer, and as you might expect - we had it everywhere. Needless to say, we never ran out of home made syrup.... After awhile it would turn to sugar and looked alot like ice cream salt. The only downside was that it caused our teeth to rot out, but we would have molasses, eggs, ham, and lots of biscuits for morning meals. The ham had usually been in the salt too long, and was so salty that you couldn't eat it. Of course we had a smoke house and a meat box for storing 2 or 3 hogs that were killed each year, and we would salt them down to cure so they wouldn't ruin. The only problem was, daddy just didn't get around to doing everything when it was supposed to happen, and the meat was left too long in the salt, which made it too salty to eat. There was a store over at Old Bethel and he would sit over there and talk all day. The fellow that ran the stores' name was Bob Ware, so naturally everybody called it Bob Ware's Store. Stores back then had a smell about them that smelled good. They had some things in bulk - which had a pleasant odor to it. Coffee was one thing, and sugar was another. They also had what they called "rolling stores", but we called them the "Peddler". Boy, it had a good smell too.... He would come down the road and start blowing that horn in time for you to get out and stop him.
We finallly ended up with a T Model Ford, and I would slip around and crawl up on the fender, raise the side, and play like I was working on it. All cars back then had a crank, and a T Model Ford had a Magneeter. (at least that's what I remember it being called) Anyhow, you would have to turn the crank to where that thing (magneeter) would buzz, and then you give it a turn. Sometimes it would crank, and sometimes it wouldn't. Sometimes it would kick backward like a mule, (i'm talking about the crank kicking backward).
My mother's parents lived at Waterloo (which is west of Florence), and it was around 50 miles from our house to theirs. Every so often, we would all load up and go to see them. I can barely remember 1 trip, we would leave our house about sun-up, and would get to theirs about 2 in the afternoon. The reason being - we had those old synthetic tubes in the tires, and because of the heat - you would always have a flat tire on the way. Of course everybody had tire tools and a pump, and also a box of patching on board. So, you would jack it up, fix the flat, and ride until you had another one. Sometimes, the patch would just get hot and come off and let the air out, but you could expect a few flat tires when traveling that far. We would get to Waterloo and where the road forks, we would go to the left about a block, and we would have a good old time. We always left for home early the next morning, and it was the same problem with flat tires all over again.
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