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.
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