“Remembering the old steam locomotives”

I think the rail road depot was the most popular place for nearly every boy in Clinton.  The older boys would hang near where the locomotive engine stopped and the younger ones the caboose area.

I loved talking to the firemen and engineers and was amazed of the pure power of steam.  When they started moving we could see the pulling wheel slip and then catch.  They had a sand box in front of the pulling wheels and if the load was heavy they sprayed a little sand from it onto the track for traction.  I havae seen where track would be worn on top and figured this was why.

There was a siding there where they left tankers of black strap molasses for adding to feed at Clinton Star Milling, owned by Mr. L. C. Sowell.  A little north of there they would drop two or three cars of coal for Clinton Coal company.  It was next to Ringo Mill and I believe the Ringo`s owned it.  They would deliver to the homes by truck and put it in the coal shed.  It was my job to load the scuttles and carry them into the house.

My brother Tommie was probably the most frequent kid to meet the trains and would talk to the conductors.  Our grandfather, who died before we were born, was a conductor so I think this may explain our fascination of trains and especially the conductors.

He made a lasting friendship with one in particular.

He noticed Tommie missed three days in a row and had the train stop where the caboose was across from our Dad`s office.  He ran over to see if he was OK and was told he was sick.

With no radios the railroaders passed notes.  He would drop notes to Tommie if he was not there or if the train did not stop.  They were rolled into a long cone and a strip of flat lead was attached to the point.

One such note told Tommie to see if he could ride the caboose to Jackson, Tennessee and back the next day.  Amazingly our Mom said yes.

I never saw anyone as excited as him when he got home.

In the Army I rode many streamliners and while at Ft. Benning, Ga.  I rode the Seminole,  The City of New Orleans and the City of Miami regularly but they never had the personality and charisma as the old steam locomotives’.

I really did love that old depot with the big black on white letters designating Clinton where the people on the trains could see where they were.  The depot sign and the Post Office sign is a treasured community identification and are hard to let go of.

When the depot burned I think nearly every fire fighter had hung out there as a kid and it was a hard loss for us.

The telegraph with the Prince Albert tobacco can to make the clackers louder so the telegrapher could hear his call sign when out on the dock,  the old freight carts and especially the big stoves so hot they had a red spot are etched permanently in our memories.

Sometimes if conditions were right and we were in the creek through town we could hear steamboat whistles on the river,  train whistles on the GM and O between Moscow and Laketon and of courst the IC from Arlington to Fulton.  Every captain and engineer had a distinctive whistle if they were not signaling to pass or something else.  They would blow as they entered Clinton at night to say hello to all the kids they had met.

By the time we were 10 or 12 we would mow yards, hunt scrap iron to sell or maybe find drink bottles to collect the deposit then on
Saturday we could ride the local to Bardwell or Fulton to see a matinee and then ride another home.  I can imagine parents allowing that now.  The most popular local was Whiskey Dick.  Now I do not think it was called that because of shoppers or people going to the movies.  Maybe it had to do with the old men full of vigor going over and coming home staggering.

I think it was 20 cent for a round trip ticket to Fulton.  I preferred Bardwell for the theater was close to the the depot and I had family there.  Mostly though it depended on what was being shown.  Bardwell theater seemed to get some of the better movies in the area.

These memories are at least sixty five years old and I am sure I am not 100% on them but I know I am close.

“Our first CHRISTmas”

We were newlywed and had just had Thanksgiving at both parents house and it was time to get ready for our first CHRISTmas together.

I had just got a raise and I imagine our salaries were about the same.   We had spent and spent getting set up for housekeeping.  You know little things like pepper etc that really finally add up.

We lived in the old Than Rogers house at the end of the boulevard and up a bluff with two tiers of steps.  It was really old and very inconvenient but there was a nice couple who had a little mom n pop store abut the size of our den and residence in back.  They must have had the same rag bologna and hoop cheese supplier as Doc Williams and Bill Berry for it was really good.  We also traded some with Miss Katie McNeil who had about the same things.  Mostly we bought groceries at Clack`s on the bypass.  James Turnbow was the grocer and he was as strict as Clint Hopkins about what he sold.  Prices were good so we ate whatever we wanted and did not look at prices.  He really had the best meat and produce around.

 Jimbo Adams and Katie moved into the a joining apartment. 

We found out about a corporate property with a few wild CHRiSTmas trees free for the taking.

Now our ceilings were probably 12 feet minimum so we wanted BIG trees.   We found the perfect shaped trees for both apartments.  No store bought for us.   When we got home I realized that a tree with a base five or six inches was a little more than we thought in the field.  We had tied them to the top of the cars to haul them home but they really were the best shaped trees we saw.  With much cutting down from the bottom they were still 4” higher than the ceiling.  Let them bend and let the angel be sleeping.

Katie came over one day and asked if I would go to Coopers fix it shop and look at a rifle she was looking at for Jimbo.  I did and I fell in love with it myself.   It was a little 22 sadle gun.  Single shot.  I loved it and told her so.

We had not bought near enough decorations for a full grown tree so we filled in with homemade and lots of aluminum icicles.  I mean lots.  The walls were so thin that when the wind blew the wall paper would move and in turn move the icicles.   We could watch our little portable black and white TV and watch the icicles moving.  It really was a pretty tree after all.

On CHRISTmas day we were exchanging gifts and when I opened one and was playing with whatever it was I looked around and there was Frieda holding MY new 22 saddle gun and wearing the prettiest smile you ever saw.  It seems that the girls had pulled the same thing on Jimbo so we both got them.

The only CHRISTmas as good was the first CHRISTmas after Debbie and Tracey were big enough to know what was going on.  CHRISTmas is giving love as the Savior did who was born on that day and not gifts. 

Naturally with birthdays on the 29 it was tempting to hold a CHRISTmas gift back for birthdays.

When the Post Office job in Clinton was posted I applied for the substitute job and back then an applicant had to live in the zip where they applied so we had to move but once again we were able to enjoy the many friends in both communities.  I really hated to move since I was living in Hickman and working in Hickman county.

"More of times gone by."

From The Hickman County Times 11/12/14

 Another good friend I got from my dad was Red Mays.  Red was a captain on the Mississippi and my dad loved the river.  Dad kept up with where the boats, the locals were on at all times, with his marine radios.  Wives and mothers would call him to see where their sons an husbands were.  He would hear them when they called ahead to a port to request a food service or fuel boat to deliver.

Red called me one time and wanted me to bring my bass boat to Columbus and paint the name on a new boat the company he worked for.

I drove down and painted the name on both sides and used my boat to paint the name on the stern of the tow boat.

When Red bought his own boat he called me to paint it for him.  I took a tour of all the boats I painted and like the others I could tell that Red was a stickler for cleanliness on his boats.  You could eat a meal of the pilot house or engine room floors.  Everything on board was immaculate.  Not exactly what I was expecting for some of them were not so new.

Red called one day and he had bought his own boat and it was being used in the construction of the new interstate bridge at Dyersburg, Tennessee.  He told me I would have to put my boat in at Cottonwood point and run from there to Dyersburg by boat.  I said that I appreciate him offering the job to me but he could get it done cheaper in Dyersburg for I would have to charge extra for the distance and using my boat.  Red was almost indignant that I mentioned it.  He said, “Robert Templeton if I wanted someone else to paint it I would have called them.  Everyone charged a fee just to get on the boat and you never held a gun on me at Columbus.  I want you to paint it.”

I stopped by my father in law Cecil Williams in Hickman on the way to visit a minute and grab a cup of coffee and he decided to go with me.

We put in at Cottonwood point and was surprised at all the miles of sand the river had left there after it went down.  It was the same time the washout formed below Columbus and left all the sand below that.  They had graded the road and sand was several feet deep on both sides of the road.

We put in at the ramp and headed south.  I did not have a chart so had no idea what was ahead of us but there was one long sweeping curve between there and Dyersburg and that was where I met the towboat The United States.  I did not know but it had just met the towboat The America.  At the time I believe they were the two biggest on the river though there are bigger now.  There we were in the stern wash from both boats coming from opposite directions.  All I could do was throttle back and ride them out by power trimming back when at the bottom of the swell and goosing over the next one.  We were both plenty scared.

From then on whenever I got on the river I made sure I had navigation maps.  When we got there painting the sides of the wheel house was easy for they had it prepared.  Painting the stern took a while as I must have picked the busiest day of the year to paint it for the river traffic was heavy and I had to wait until all the swells subsided to continue painting from my boat.  I never did tell Red again that he could get it done cheaper somewhere else.  It was always impressive to go aboard one of his boats and see how fresh and spotless they were regardless of age.

It is strange how many state policemen I have had as good friends.  Mike Ward was the first.  He and Sis lived in a big two story house across from us on North Washington Street.  Mike bought one of the first TV sets in Clinton and had an ideal roof for an antenna.  They invited us over nearly every evening to watch very snowy tv with them.

My Mom decided to get her driver’s license one time and Mike gave her the written test and she passed it.  He wrote out the license and signed it handing it to her.  She asked, “don’t I have to take a driving test too Mike?”  He said, “Doris you live across the street and I have been watching you drive for 8 years.  I know you can drive.”

Lawrence Gresham was another.  I asked him once why he did not hassle teen drivers.  He said he would rather see us drive a little over the limit in front of him than try to kill ourselves when he was not around.  He judged by traffic and road conditions.  He was a stickler for running stop signs though.  Once I asked him why and he responded that his first wreck was a car load of kids who pulled in front of a coal truck after ignoring a stop sign.  He followed me from Fulton once and I never did slow down to the limit.   When I decided it was not police he threw the lignts on me.   Now he did this where I had to pull in to Piper druve in where all my friends were.  No ticket but the embarrassment taught me a lesson.  He once told me that state police serve and protect while state troopers write tickets and make money for the governor.

Another that I had a lot of respect for and was a long time friend was Richard Meshew.  We were in the Lions Club together and worked together on many club projects.  Richard once told me that he owed his kids an apology.  He said he had realized that in his job most of the teens he saw were the ones in trouble and it was causing him to not trust his own kids.  I think that is true for most cops causing a us against them mentality.  We were friends since our teen years and were always pulling something on each other.  When he retired he went to work selling cars in Fulton.  I bought a car from him and stopped at my brother in law Richard Williams store when I got to Clinton.  I called Richard and told him I was stranded on the hill going into Latta bottom and the engine and transmission had fallen out and I had the road blocked both ways.  I said the traffic was backed up a mile in each direction.  He was near speechless but managed to say he would get a wrecker on the way fast.  When I started cackling he knew he had been had again.  He swore he would get even.  I miss Richard and his sense of humor.

Not a state policeman but I will never forget when Stanley Hopkins was sheriff.  He worked the Mrs. Maud Davis brutal murder and it really got to him and shook the whole county.  He had a suspect who had disappeared.  Stanley bought news ads and ads in crime magazines seeking the suspect.   He was found way up north and brought back for trial and conviction.  Mission accomplished.

One thing I found out through these friendships is parents should teach kids that the police are their friends and not threaten them with cops like was common years ago.

George Bell is another good friend and retired state police.  One timem George rode with me to the cabin for some target shooting.  When we got home he told Frieda the next time he saw me on the road he was going to give me a ticket for driving too fast.  One thing I do remember was his receiving an award from KSP for his use of restraint in an arrest.  An armed man had threatened a state road crew and George talked him into surrendering and all the time he had a shot gun aimed at George.  Nearly any law man would have shot after one warning but George gave several warnings.  He saved a man`s life that day.  I asked George to give Debbie a warning on tires once so she would get new ones.  I had offered to even pay for them.  George did give her a warning so she would have to get them.  Her tires were not slick but she was running all over the country interviewing for jobs and they were not OK for sustained fast speed.

Again parents I beg you to teach your little ones that  police are their friends and do not threaten them with arrest if they do not eat or something.  We hear about the cops who go bad but I assure you most of them are there to protect and serve.

“My favorite oxbow Lake with Joe Wayne Weatherford”

     When I got off work on Friday Joe Wayne was waiting on the parking lot.  He wanted me to go to Forked Lake fishing with him Saturday morning.  He explained that Marianna had bought Polly Williams Forked Lake membership for his birthday.

     When we were approaching the gate we spotted a turkey hen and brood, in the road ahead, and stopped to watch them for a while.  She finally realized we were there and they disappeared in a flash.

     I warned Joe of the big stump under water right near the middle of the ramp and he carefully backed the boat into the water.  It was a calm cool morning and the lake was never more beautiful.  The weird spiders that climb trees and jump, spinning a long string, to carry them for miles, were everywhere.  With the dew clinging to their webs it was a pretty sight.  With the mist rising from the water caused by a little cooler weather it was erie looking and very beautiful.

     Well the fish must have been enjoying the view because they were not cooperating.  We fished the area between the two lakes for a long time and not a bite.  Very unusual.  Up to now Joe had boated a grinner and I had caught a grinner and a drum.

We got near the end of straight bank and were nearing one of my favorite areas and I suggested Joe slow down.  Joe always held the boat much further out than I and it was a long cast to the bank.  He threw a long cast to a log and Bam he had a good one on.  I immediately grabbed the landing net and was ready for him to bring it to boat.  It was a fine 4 pounder.  He threw back again and bang as soon as the plug hit the water he had a twin to the first.  I managed to catch a small bass a bit further on.

     Joe was some kind of friend and was proud of his friends.  He thought I was this especially good bass fisherman and spent the little time we had left to fish questioning how he could have out fished me.  If you ever have a friend like him hang on to him/her they are invaluable.  He was one who would not tolerate a friend saying anything ill about another friend of his.

      I will never forget when we got to Clinton.  Joe wanted to take the boat to his mom and dads first as he kept it in their garage.  He backed to the back door and stopped.  He went inside and his dad was gone but his mom came out to see the big fish.  I will never forget Mrs. Weatherford sided up to me and grinning said, “Bobby tell me the truth.  “Did Joe P in his pants, when he caught the big one.”   They were all special friends that I will cherish the memory of for as long as I live. 

She was the first person to hold me after delivery by the doctor and we always had a special attachment.

Joe used to ask me if I was going to Forked Saturday.  When I got to the lake I always looked to the corner of the lot where he parked to see if his truck was there.  If he did not show I would ask why.  He would say that there was a twenty percent chance of rain.  I always answered Joe you were not listening.  They said that there was a eighty percent chance of no rain.  Even after he passed I continued to glance at that spot where he parked just a reminder of good times past.