When I was about 15 I had some good times with James and Melvin Mink in an old car that had been converted into a truck by their Dad. Some of the time the doors were taken off of it and we would fly up and down those old dirty gravel roads around Herman Junction and Bay and it was a wonder that all of us didn't get killed. But, on a very hot day with cotton chopping over and it wasn't time to pick yet, we could take off in that old buggy and be as cool as a fellow could be in a vehicle without air-conditioning. The 'thing' had some side boards on the back part of it and we had a message on each side. On one side it said, "Lady, don't laugh your daughter may be in here." On the other side was a more classy little saying, "Constipated, can't pass a thing."
I don't know how many people could get in it to ride around. I don't remember any girls getting in it but maybe they did when I wasn't around. But, I remember it being full of guys laughing, gouging each other in the ribs vying for a little more room, and having a good time. We had an old radio antenna that we used a few times to hit mail boxes and weeds as we flew down the road. A dollars worth of regular gas would last nearly all weekend.
When we got a bit older and starting courting some we moved up to their Dad's car and that was much better when we expected the girls to come along. It is funny how things work out. I have ridden in the back seat of the car with another girl and James had My Lady sitting next to him in the front seat. It wasn't very long until that changed and I have been tagging along after My Lady ever since. A young man told me one time, "When I get married, my wife is not going to know where I am all the time!" When he said that I thought, "I have been married for many years and most of the time if you wanted to know where I was, just find My Lady and there I would be." I wouldn't have it any other way.
James and Melvin's father, Bead Mink died not too long ago. Melvin has told me that that old 'thing' with the sayings on the side boards was still sitting in his back yard. Nowadays guys have to have a spruced up sports car or something to drive, but I love the memories of that 'thing' we had so many years ago at Herman Junction. Do you see why I say, "Everything is Ok at Herman Junction?"
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
Friday, December 12, 2008
CHORE TIME: POST #44
When our son was younger and about all that we asked of him was to carry out the garbage two or three times a week, he hated it so much that he told his mother that when I was real old and had to come live with him, he was making me carry out the garbage every day! That is how spoiled most of the kids are these days. They are asked to do very little except maybe kind of straightening up their own room occasionally. Most of the either don't do that or resent it.
Down at Herman Junction we had chores and if we didn't get them done we had to pay in some way like getting up on a cold morning and having no kindling or wood to build a fire. So, most of the time the chores were done. Let me list some of them for your consideration.
Down at Herman Junction we had chores and if we didn't get them done we had to pay in some way like getting up on a cold morning and having no kindling or wood to build a fire. So, most of the time the chores were done. Let me list some of them for your consideration.
- There was the cow to milk. I never did learn to milk a cow so when it was my turn to do that I had to do some trading with somebody. I had all kinds of lessons from nearly everybody but I just couldn't do it. I would squeeze those teats in every conceivable way but no milk would come out. Dad or one of the older boys would come squeeze and squirt that milk forty feet but I could not get more than a drop or two. I sure am glad that my living did not depend upon me milking.
- There were hogs to feed. We had to mix up the shorts and get all the scraps together and fill the hog trough to fatten up the hogs. We would be rewarded greatly for that feat later in the winter.
- There were eggs to gather. I hated eggs and still do. They could have just rotted as far as I was concerned but my older brothers were sloppy pigs when it came to eating eggs. Harvel, Jack, and Ray could eat half a dozen each or more right now! When they would pour gravy over about three fried eggs and then mash and stir them up and run a cat head biscuit through there it was the most sickly looking site that I could think of. So, I gathered up the eggs like I was supposed to.
- Feeding the chickens wasn't too much of a deal. We always had some corn and it was kind of fun to throw out the corn or chicken feed and watch them scramble for it. All that I could see when I was doing that was a nice, big, pully-bone running around in there that would one day be mine all fried up crispy brown and hot. That kind of kept my mind off it being a chore.
- We had to pump up some water in the winter time because the pump would freeze that night and we wouldn't have any unless we got out in the cold, cold, weather and thawed out the pump. So, buckets and dish pans were filled with water every night when the weather was going to be so cold.
- Of course there was that splitting wood and making kindling and I hated that. I was not good with an axe and it is a wonder that I didn't cut my leg plum off. I have skinned them up a few times when I would miss the chunk of wood or that axe would bounce off the wood and get me. Then we had to carry it in the house and put it behind the stove for the fire that night and the building of a fire the next morning.
- Someone had to bring in the clothes off the line that Mom had washed and hung out to dry. It looked like that clothes line was two miles long and I thought that I would never get them all carried into the house. Can you imagine the clothes that Mom washed, rinsed, and then hung on the line? And she did that all by herself most of the time.
Yes, there were chores that had to be done every day. That was after a hard day of chopping or picking cotton in some cases too. But, it never hurt us and it didn't hurt Marty to carry out the garbage either. I wish that he had lived a few days back then, he would have said, "Man, Dad I appreciate getting to carry out this garbage a couple of times a week!"
Just getting to live in Herman Junction was worth all the chores that one had to do when we lived there and that is why everything is alright in Herman Junction today.
Thursday, December 11, 2008
HAIR CUTS: POST #43
My Dad was a barber too. He didn't go to Little Rock and pass a hair cutting test and get his license so he couldn't charge for haircuts, but the guys in Herman Junction would come over and get thier haircut and just give Dad an offering. Even if he didn't make any money cutting other fellows hair, he saved a wad just cutting his boys hair. I didn't like hair cutting time either.
There are a couple of reasons why I didn't like to get my hair cut. One, Dad made me stand up in a chair and he would yell at me to be still. I have never been able to stand still for very long or I will just fall over. Sometimes even today when we stand to pray in church I have to back up to the bench behind me and put my legs up against it to kind of steady msyelf. I'm usually on the front row so there isn't one in front of me to hold on to. But, I would be standing up in that chair trying my best to be still and then I would feel myself sort of swaying back and forth and Dad would say, "Be still, Boy or I am going to mess your hair up." Mom would take my side and say, "Herbert you know that he can't stand still, he'll faint or get sick and throw up." It sure was hard to stand there but I never did faint and I don't remember ever throwing up during a hair cut.
There are a couple of things that I remember well about hair cuts. When I was about 15 some of my friends dared me to get a Mohawk hair cut and they even made up the money to pay for it if I would get one. Dick Davis, the barber in Bay agreed to do it and he did it. He said that it was a little hard to get the streak down the middle exactly where it should be because my head was whop sided. I remember going home and dreading it awful, but Dad just looked at me like he thought that I was crazy as a loon, and didn't say anything about it. I never had another one of those.
There was a time when Dad let the older boys and a neighbor or two swap haircuts. The boys cut each others hair and you should have seen that mess. Sometimes we see the young guys nowadays and thier hairdoos and we wonder about thier sanity. Well, you should have seen the boys from Herman Junction. When one would get his hair cut and look at it in the mirror and see what had been done to him, he would get to cut the next guys hair and you know what he would do, don't you? Yes, that is what he did! After it was all over Dad tried to straighten it up so that it would not be so ugly and miserable for them but he couldn't do a real good job on them. Funny, I only remember that happening one time.
Dad spent about twenty or thirty years going to what we then called the, County Home, giving all the men thier haircuts. If he got paid at all it was about $1.00 per head and I don't think that he got paid all the time. He was faithful to go and cut the hair of these men who were unable to go to a barber shop. Someone said one time, "When Herb dies, I wonder if there will be anyone to cut his hair?" Well, there was someone who did it and I am glad that it wasn't a Mohawk. It was a fine flat top like he wore most of his life as he got older.
Hair cutting time at Herman Junction was probably a good time out under those mulberry trees or on the front porch for most people, but for me standing up in that chair it was not good at all. Maybe Mayor Linda will get a barber shop there someday and then everything will be just fine at Herman Junction.
There are a couple of reasons why I didn't like to get my hair cut. One, Dad made me stand up in a chair and he would yell at me to be still. I have never been able to stand still for very long or I will just fall over. Sometimes even today when we stand to pray in church I have to back up to the bench behind me and put my legs up against it to kind of steady msyelf. I'm usually on the front row so there isn't one in front of me to hold on to. But, I would be standing up in that chair trying my best to be still and then I would feel myself sort of swaying back and forth and Dad would say, "Be still, Boy or I am going to mess your hair up." Mom would take my side and say, "Herbert you know that he can't stand still, he'll faint or get sick and throw up." It sure was hard to stand there but I never did faint and I don't remember ever throwing up during a hair cut.
There are a couple of things that I remember well about hair cuts. When I was about 15 some of my friends dared me to get a Mohawk hair cut and they even made up the money to pay for it if I would get one. Dick Davis, the barber in Bay agreed to do it and he did it. He said that it was a little hard to get the streak down the middle exactly where it should be because my head was whop sided. I remember going home and dreading it awful, but Dad just looked at me like he thought that I was crazy as a loon, and didn't say anything about it. I never had another one of those.
There was a time when Dad let the older boys and a neighbor or two swap haircuts. The boys cut each others hair and you should have seen that mess. Sometimes we see the young guys nowadays and thier hairdoos and we wonder about thier sanity. Well, you should have seen the boys from Herman Junction. When one would get his hair cut and look at it in the mirror and see what had been done to him, he would get to cut the next guys hair and you know what he would do, don't you? Yes, that is what he did! After it was all over Dad tried to straighten it up so that it would not be so ugly and miserable for them but he couldn't do a real good job on them. Funny, I only remember that happening one time.
Dad spent about twenty or thirty years going to what we then called the, County Home, giving all the men thier haircuts. If he got paid at all it was about $1.00 per head and I don't think that he got paid all the time. He was faithful to go and cut the hair of these men who were unable to go to a barber shop. Someone said one time, "When Herb dies, I wonder if there will be anyone to cut his hair?" Well, there was someone who did it and I am glad that it wasn't a Mohawk. It was a fine flat top like he wore most of his life as he got older.
Hair cutting time at Herman Junction was probably a good time out under those mulberry trees or on the front porch for most people, but for me standing up in that chair it was not good at all. Maybe Mayor Linda will get a barber shop there someday and then everything will be just fine at Herman Junction.
COLD MORNINGS/BUILD FIRE:POST #42
I loved sleeping in a big, deep, feather bed. If we didn't have that we had a pile of wonderful quilts piled on us and we slept as warm as if we had central heat. Especially if there were three of us in the bed!
I mentioned in an earlier post how awful it was to be sound asleep and a storm would come up and Mom would start yelling and we all made our way to the storm house. How miserable! But, there was another time that was maybe even more miserable than that. We would all be sound asleep and the house was cold and suddenly there came this booming voice, "Teddy, get up an build a fire." You talk about miserable! I would crawl out of that bed in my drawers, trample through Mom and Dad's bedrom and into the living room where the king heater was. I'd then grab a few sticks of kindling or if there was no kindling get some pages out of the Sears-Roebuck catalog that wasn't in use at the outhouse yet, add a few sticks of wood and set them on fire. If they caught I could then go back to bed. The miserable of all miserables was that the fire would go out and you would hear that booming voice again, "Boy, your fire went out" and I had to do it all over again. I just hated having to start the fire in the moring. After while the whole bunch would get out of thier warm beds and come in to a toasty warm fire to get dressed for the day and turn around and warm thier rear ends good before eating breakfast.
This is why it was important in the late afternoon when doing the chores to get some kindling in and a few sticks of firewood. If you forgot to do that and you were chosen the next morning to build the fire, it was out to the wood pile to fumble around in the dark trying to find something for kindling and a slab or two of wood, and that was plain inhumane treatment! Where was the ACLU then?
I have spent considerable time helping to cut wood so we would have a warm house in the winter time. Sometimes we would walk up and down the railraod tracks and find a few chunks of coal that had fallen off the train and that coal would make a super fire. Since Dad worked on the railroad we often got the old railroad ties and hauled them home and sawed them up and they too made a super fire. They were all soaked with creosote and caught pretty quick and that king heater would just turn red with heat and sometimes Mom would get a bit scared that the fire was so hot. Later Dad started going up to Bradshaw's sawmill and buying slabs of lumber and that would catch quickly because it was dry and it made a good fire too.
Old Booie would come down to the house sometimes at night and we would just sit around the stove and talk. Booie dipped snuff and he would spit in the stove until he put the fire out and then he would go home and we would go to bed. I have listened to some mighty interesting and educational conversations around that king heater in the evenings at the big house.
But, here is the sad part. After a few hours of good sleep we had to go through all that ordeal again: "Rayburn, get up and build a fire." Boy, was I ever glad to hear him say any name other than Teddy. You know, the odd thing is this: Until the day that he died my Dad argued that he never made one of us get up and build a fire because he did it every morning! If he did, which I know he didn't, then I sure had some miserable dreams. I think that I am going to take a little kindling and a couple of slabs of wood with me and when I meet him in the great by and by, I am going to say, "Get up, Herb and build the fire!"
I mentioned in an earlier post how awful it was to be sound asleep and a storm would come up and Mom would start yelling and we all made our way to the storm house. How miserable! But, there was another time that was maybe even more miserable than that. We would all be sound asleep and the house was cold and suddenly there came this booming voice, "Teddy, get up an build a fire." You talk about miserable! I would crawl out of that bed in my drawers, trample through Mom and Dad's bedrom and into the living room where the king heater was. I'd then grab a few sticks of kindling or if there was no kindling get some pages out of the Sears-Roebuck catalog that wasn't in use at the outhouse yet, add a few sticks of wood and set them on fire. If they caught I could then go back to bed. The miserable of all miserables was that the fire would go out and you would hear that booming voice again, "Boy, your fire went out" and I had to do it all over again. I just hated having to start the fire in the moring. After while the whole bunch would get out of thier warm beds and come in to a toasty warm fire to get dressed for the day and turn around and warm thier rear ends good before eating breakfast.
This is why it was important in the late afternoon when doing the chores to get some kindling in and a few sticks of firewood. If you forgot to do that and you were chosen the next morning to build the fire, it was out to the wood pile to fumble around in the dark trying to find something for kindling and a slab or two of wood, and that was plain inhumane treatment! Where was the ACLU then?
I have spent considerable time helping to cut wood so we would have a warm house in the winter time. Sometimes we would walk up and down the railraod tracks and find a few chunks of coal that had fallen off the train and that coal would make a super fire. Since Dad worked on the railroad we often got the old railroad ties and hauled them home and sawed them up and they too made a super fire. They were all soaked with creosote and caught pretty quick and that king heater would just turn red with heat and sometimes Mom would get a bit scared that the fire was so hot. Later Dad started going up to Bradshaw's sawmill and buying slabs of lumber and that would catch quickly because it was dry and it made a good fire too.
Old Booie would come down to the house sometimes at night and we would just sit around the stove and talk. Booie dipped snuff and he would spit in the stove until he put the fire out and then he would go home and we would go to bed. I have listened to some mighty interesting and educational conversations around that king heater in the evenings at the big house.
But, here is the sad part. After a few hours of good sleep we had to go through all that ordeal again: "Rayburn, get up and build a fire." Boy, was I ever glad to hear him say any name other than Teddy. You know, the odd thing is this: Until the day that he died my Dad argued that he never made one of us get up and build a fire because he did it every morning! If he did, which I know he didn't, then I sure had some miserable dreams. I think that I am going to take a little kindling and a couple of slabs of wood with me and when I meet him in the great by and by, I am going to say, "Get up, Herb and build the fire!"
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
GOOD TIMES AT HERMAN JUNCTION: POST #41
What can a guy do for fun in Herman Junction? There are no video games, rodeos, TV's, and things like that. I have mentioned before that there was a basketball goal that we made out of a pole and a discarded Texaco sign. There were skates, a stick with a Prince Albert tobacco can on the end of it and bent close together so we could get a hoop off a keg and push it down the road. We could even pick up a couple of beer cans that had been thrown out of a car, stomp our feet down hard on them and walk down to the big bay ditch and it sounded like a horse coming down the road. Then we could throw rocks at the snakes in the ditch or the bottles that someone had thrown in there. We might even get a can and make a hole in top of it and drop marbles from our waist and see who could hit that hole the most times. Shoot, I could take that can to school the next day and if some of my buddies wanted to try it, they could drop marbles with me. That meant if they missed the hole I got the marble but if they hit it, I had to give them two or more depending upon the size of the hole. If there happened to be an old discarded tire around you could push it to Bay and leave it in the ditch on the outskirts of town and then push it back home that evening. There were still a lot of miles on a tire after it was taken off the car, don't you see. My, My, there were all kinds of things to do.
You see, we had to make our things to do because most of the things that some other kids did, we didn't get to. We didn't get to go to the movies unless we snuck in because Mom said that the Catholics got all the money from the movies. We couldn't play the pinball machine because that was gambling. One time I was playing the pinball machine in the Yellow Jacket Cafe and Dad came walking up. That pinball machine was right in the window. I nearly busted the thing trying to get away from it and pretend that I wasn't playing it although that ball was rolling around and bumping into things and making all kinds of racket. I got by with it though because he didn't come in before I could get out to where he was. We could play Rook all we wanted to at home but we couldn't play with the cards that had Kings, Queens, and Jack's on them because they were gambling cards. Mercy, don't you get caught in that pool hall either because that was a gambling den for sure!
Well, you may think that I am complaining and thinking that I was cheated out of having a good time but that sure isn't so. I cannot think of many boring times at Herman Junction. Nowadays kids have all kinds of electronic gadgets and games and they still complain that they are bored. All they need is for someone to take them out and show them how to make a sling shot or a rubber gun and the boredom will be relieved. Or, have them try to walk on a pair of tom-walkers. You don't know what tom-walkers are do you? Figure it out for yourself. I'll tell you this, one of the funniest sights you will ever see in your mind is Harvel walking on a pair of tom-walkers and Dad whipping him and he couldn't walk fast enough to get away. Better than a rodeo!
I have knocked a ton of rocks off the Frisco railroad with a stick about like a baseball bat. I was better than any professional baseball player. And, I have thrown a few of them at Rayburn and others who got close enough to me. Wading water in the ditch catching crawdads was something that every boy should experience unless there was a snake in there too. Aw, the list is endless of good things to do if a feller just put his mind to work inventing good things. There was never a dull moment at Herman Junction for six boys and two girls plus all the neighbor kinds. If you think that it might be boring there today, just get the Mayor, Linda all excited and things start flying again and that's what makes everything well at Herman Junction.
You see, we had to make our things to do because most of the things that some other kids did, we didn't get to. We didn't get to go to the movies unless we snuck in because Mom said that the Catholics got all the money from the movies. We couldn't play the pinball machine because that was gambling. One time I was playing the pinball machine in the Yellow Jacket Cafe and Dad came walking up. That pinball machine was right in the window. I nearly busted the thing trying to get away from it and pretend that I wasn't playing it although that ball was rolling around and bumping into things and making all kinds of racket. I got by with it though because he didn't come in before I could get out to where he was. We could play Rook all we wanted to at home but we couldn't play with the cards that had Kings, Queens, and Jack's on them because they were gambling cards. Mercy, don't you get caught in that pool hall either because that was a gambling den for sure!
Well, you may think that I am complaining and thinking that I was cheated out of having a good time but that sure isn't so. I cannot think of many boring times at Herman Junction. Nowadays kids have all kinds of electronic gadgets and games and they still complain that they are bored. All they need is for someone to take them out and show them how to make a sling shot or a rubber gun and the boredom will be relieved. Or, have them try to walk on a pair of tom-walkers. You don't know what tom-walkers are do you? Figure it out for yourself. I'll tell you this, one of the funniest sights you will ever see in your mind is Harvel walking on a pair of tom-walkers and Dad whipping him and he couldn't walk fast enough to get away. Better than a rodeo!
I have knocked a ton of rocks off the Frisco railroad with a stick about like a baseball bat. I was better than any professional baseball player. And, I have thrown a few of them at Rayburn and others who got close enough to me. Wading water in the ditch catching crawdads was something that every boy should experience unless there was a snake in there too. Aw, the list is endless of good things to do if a feller just put his mind to work inventing good things. There was never a dull moment at Herman Junction for six boys and two girls plus all the neighbor kinds. If you think that it might be boring there today, just get the Mayor, Linda all excited and things start flying again and that's what makes everything well at Herman Junction.
FRAIDY CAT: BLOG #40
Have you ever been so scared that you could hardly walk? I mean, 'trembling in your britches' scared? When a young fellow from Herman Junction finds himself in Bay on a Saturday night when the old town is bustling with people, that can happen. And it did happen to me. Not just one time but several times.
I was in Bay with the family one Saturday night and Mom and the little ones were at E.D. Smith's grocery store visiting with E.D. and Aunt Mollie. I had walked around to the front with Dad and then he got to talking and I just wondered up and down the street by myself. After while I heard some men talking about a man that had been murdered at Truman earlier in the evening. His throat was cut from ear to ear! Can you imagine the images that formed in my head when I heard that? They also said that the murderer was last seen headed toward Bay! Holy Cow! Here I was by myself just walking around watching the people, etc. I remember very well looking for any stranger and if I saw one I hastened to the other side of the street or turned and walked the other way quickly. I just knew that if the throat cutter was in town I would be his next victim and a knife cutting me from ear to ear was about the most gruesome thing that I had ever heard of. I was absolutely scared to death and went hurriedly around the corner to E.D. and Aunt Mollie's store where I knew I would be safe. I never did know whether the killer was caught or not and don't know anything else about the case but I do remember it happening very well.
We went to church services one Sunday night, Dec. 13, 1948, as we always did. When we got out of services we heard that there was some kind of commotion going on down on Main Street but Dad took us down another street and took us on home. He immediately went back to Bay and came home some time later. I heard him tell Mom that a black man that we had always known had come into town that night waving a shotgun around and yelling and hollering for someone. The man was known to have a mental defect. Dad knew this man and had thought that he could go back to town and calm the guy down and everything would be alright. However, when Dad arrived the man, Early Hughes had already been shot and killed by the city marshal. When they went to check Early's body they found that the gun was not loaded but of course the marshal did not know that. The man was out on Main street near the depot and the marshal stationed himself behind the theater and shot him from there. Again, when I heard that story I never wanted to go to Bay again! Herman Junction seemed to me to be a lot safer place.
It was Saturday night again. The town had a small brick building out in an alley behind the post office and some business places, that was the jail. That night a couple of guys were put in the jail, probably because of drunkenness, but I don't know for sure. The next morning when we went to church we learned that the jail had burned in the wee hours of the morning and the two guys inside had died. I do not know who the fellows were or anything about them but I know how I squirmed when I was told that two men had burned to death in that jail house. I never wanted to walk through that alley again.
Many years later My Lady and I with our children went to Bay for a family reunion. We started home in the evening and just pulled up at the corner of Main Street and Church St. Then, I heard gunshots and a man with his arm out the window of a car shooting at some other men across the street by Wayne Hill's grocery store and we were right square in between. I yelled, "Get down" and took off. Am I in Dodge City? What is going on here? I went and told the police and while they were pecking out the information on a typewriter a couple of other guys had run down the shooter and brought him in while we were still there.
Yes, Sir, I have been 'trembling in your britches' scared at Bay and that made Herman Junction seem so much a better place to be.
I was in Bay with the family one Saturday night and Mom and the little ones were at E.D. Smith's grocery store visiting with E.D. and Aunt Mollie. I had walked around to the front with Dad and then he got to talking and I just wondered up and down the street by myself. After while I heard some men talking about a man that had been murdered at Truman earlier in the evening. His throat was cut from ear to ear! Can you imagine the images that formed in my head when I heard that? They also said that the murderer was last seen headed toward Bay! Holy Cow! Here I was by myself just walking around watching the people, etc. I remember very well looking for any stranger and if I saw one I hastened to the other side of the street or turned and walked the other way quickly. I just knew that if the throat cutter was in town I would be his next victim and a knife cutting me from ear to ear was about the most gruesome thing that I had ever heard of. I was absolutely scared to death and went hurriedly around the corner to E.D. and Aunt Mollie's store where I knew I would be safe. I never did know whether the killer was caught or not and don't know anything else about the case but I do remember it happening very well.
We went to church services one Sunday night, Dec. 13, 1948, as we always did. When we got out of services we heard that there was some kind of commotion going on down on Main Street but Dad took us down another street and took us on home. He immediately went back to Bay and came home some time later. I heard him tell Mom that a black man that we had always known had come into town that night waving a shotgun around and yelling and hollering for someone. The man was known to have a mental defect. Dad knew this man and had thought that he could go back to town and calm the guy down and everything would be alright. However, when Dad arrived the man, Early Hughes had already been shot and killed by the city marshal. When they went to check Early's body they found that the gun was not loaded but of course the marshal did not know that. The man was out on Main street near the depot and the marshal stationed himself behind the theater and shot him from there. Again, when I heard that story I never wanted to go to Bay again! Herman Junction seemed to me to be a lot safer place.
It was Saturday night again. The town had a small brick building out in an alley behind the post office and some business places, that was the jail. That night a couple of guys were put in the jail, probably because of drunkenness, but I don't know for sure. The next morning when we went to church we learned that the jail had burned in the wee hours of the morning and the two guys inside had died. I do not know who the fellows were or anything about them but I know how I squirmed when I was told that two men had burned to death in that jail house. I never wanted to walk through that alley again.
Many years later My Lady and I with our children went to Bay for a family reunion. We started home in the evening and just pulled up at the corner of Main Street and Church St. Then, I heard gunshots and a man with his arm out the window of a car shooting at some other men across the street by Wayne Hill's grocery store and we were right square in between. I yelled, "Get down" and took off. Am I in Dodge City? What is going on here? I went and told the police and while they were pecking out the information on a typewriter a couple of other guys had run down the shooter and brought him in while we were still there.
Yes, Sir, I have been 'trembling in your britches' scared at Bay and that made Herman Junction seem so much a better place to be.
Saturday, December 6, 2008
NEAR TRAGEDY AT HERMAN JUNCTION: POST #39
My heart almost stopped one day a few minutes after the phone had rung. My Lady answered and all that I heard her say was, "Oh, Marty!" She listened for a little while and then hung up and turned to me and said, "Marty just heard on the radio that Harvel has been killed in the deer woods." I could not believe my ears as she went on to explain that Harvel was in the deer woods near Mountain View, Arkansas hunting and was killed. I knew that he had a cabin there and that he was in the deer woods hunting. I immediately called the radio station and they told me that I needed to call the Sheriffs' office in Stone County. I called the Sheriffs' office and told them what I needed and the dispatcher asked if I was part of the family. I told her that I was Harvels' brother and she said, "You need to talk to the Sheriff." Almost instantly the Sheriff got on the phone and I told him that I had been told that my brother had died in the deer woods near Mountain View and he said, "No, he and his son Roger were up here hunting with another man and the other man died with a heart attack." When he told me who had died it stirred mixed feelings in me because I had known Mac McCool for many years too and he was the man who had died. I called Harvel's house and his wife Bobbie answered the phone. I asked her what she was doing and she said, "I am just sitting here by the phone answering it and telling people that Harvel is not dead." What a deal! I learned then that the news media needs to confirm things before reporting on the air.
Another time our phone rang and I answered it and a good friend on the other end said, "I sure am glad to hear your voice." I asked, "Why?" She told me that Ted Knight had been killed in an automobile accident up near Herman Junction and she just knew it was me. Well, it wasn't. But, I don't know who it was and what he may have been doing near Herman Junction.
I was in Andulusia, Alabama once with car trouble and when we got to the dealer where our car was towed, I walked up to the window to give them the information that they wanted and when the guys asked me my name I said, "Ted Knight." He just froze and stared at me. I figured that he was thinking of the Mary Tyler Moore character who was named Ted Knight. After he came unglued a bit he said, "Our general manager here is named Ted Knight." I was glad because that Ted put this Ted in a borrowed car and sent us on our way to preach and then delivered our car to us a few days later.
It seemed that we never lacked having something to excite us at Herman Junction but it all worked out to make Herman Junction OK today.
Another time our phone rang and I answered it and a good friend on the other end said, "I sure am glad to hear your voice." I asked, "Why?" She told me that Ted Knight had been killed in an automobile accident up near Herman Junction and she just knew it was me. Well, it wasn't. But, I don't know who it was and what he may have been doing near Herman Junction.
I was in Andulusia, Alabama once with car trouble and when we got to the dealer where our car was towed, I walked up to the window to give them the information that they wanted and when the guys asked me my name I said, "Ted Knight." He just froze and stared at me. I figured that he was thinking of the Mary Tyler Moore character who was named Ted Knight. After he came unglued a bit he said, "Our general manager here is named Ted Knight." I was glad because that Ted put this Ted in a borrowed car and sent us on our way to preach and then delivered our car to us a few days later.
It seemed that we never lacked having something to excite us at Herman Junction but it all worked out to make Herman Junction OK today.
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