"Growing up Clinton Oakton random thoughts"

     

 This is not one of my experiences but is one of my favorites anyway as it is about a Hollywood that believed in the American way and support of our service members.  I have heard the stories of so many of them and know for a fact that Ann Margaret was one of the finest supporters of her guys.                                                                                          Everyone knows Jerald Chandler. He was in Coast Guard in
Calif. during WW2 and he wrote Red Skelton personally for tickets to a show and got a very nice personal letter back signed by Red and with tickets on the front row for the show. During the show he recognized them. He singled them out and asked where they found the pretty broads who were with them.                                                                                              Years later Jerald and his son Bruce got tickets to see Red at Murray State and JW carried the letter. They went to the stage entrance and could see Red back stage.  JW told the guard he did not want to lose the letter but would he show it to Red.  Red took the letter and after reading it rushed to Jerald and Bruce.  He said he could not believe anyone would save a letter that all those years.  Would have loved to have seen Bruce`s face at that time.  I know how I would have looked.
. God blessed us with Red, Bob Hope and Ann Margaret for they loved ‘THEIR” soldiers as they all three called them. 

     I was just wondering about the Scott family who lived near where the car wash is now and it brought to mind the “natural wetland” next to Bayou de Chein creek south of Clinton.  The swamp on the east side was where Gene Scott had a shed and a ramp into the creek where he got sand from the creek.  I think it was for making concrete block.  Anyway there was a big stand of hardwood timber where I started out hunting squirrels.  As I aged I would hunt squirrels in hardwood from there to Moscow and up and down creek, wearing low top shoes and not get wet.  This was not wetland until the beaver took over the creek.  Bayou de Chein creek had snakes then but nowhere near the number of cottonmouth that it has now.  One of our best swimming holes was under the bridge over hwy 51.  There was a deep hole, clear water and best of all there was a spring under the bridge that ran water over blue mud year round.  It was the perfect slicky slide and we were like a bunch of otter sliding tail or head first down it into the water.  I do remember how cold it was in July and August making it the ideal skinny-dipping spot.

     After the beaver flooded the creek bottom I would wade the same area I squirrel hunted.  Wearing hip boots or waders and my pistol loaded with bird shot for any beady eye that got too close.  It was some of the most productive bass fishing I ever had but was hard with down falls and buck brush.  It was full of fish and cottonmouths.

     Remembering folks from back when, it is impossible to leave out one gentleman who, though not a local, touched almost all the young men in Hickman County and Kentucky during those formidable years of the fifties.  Doug Travis was a Kentucky game warden and headed up the, Kentucky Dept. Fish and Wildlife, Junior Conservation Corp.  He was a counselor at Camp Currie as well.  Doug was a fantastic shot and was courted by the major gun manufacturers to go to work for them, giving shooting exhibitions but he knew where he belonged.

     He came to Central High School once a month and met with the local club.  Usually we would bring our 22`s or use his for rifle instruction and shooting practice on the ball field.  He had a portable backstop that he would bring with him.  Can you imagine that happening now?

    Doug had an infective personality and loved what he did.  There is at least one Kentucky game refuse named after him.  He probably single handed headed more young people into proper use of wildlife resources and proper respect for the land owner.

     He was a first class wood decoy carver and carved working decoys.  Each year he would donate some to Ducks Unlimited to auction off to raise funds.  He was the single influence in my going into carving decorative decoys.  My first carving was a mallard decoy for the Graves County Ducks Unlimited auction.  I was unable to make a good cash donation but I could do that.  I was surprised when it did well and I was hooked.  One of my high points was his showing up at the Wildlife Art Show at the Paducah Executive Inn where my birds were displayed and heaping his praise on my work.

     He knew everyone and became a lifelong friend to me.  It was him at Camp Currie who I qualified for Red Cross life saving under and helped me to qualify for Boy Scout lifeguard certification.  He never came to Hickman County in later years that he did not look up Joe Weatherford and me.

     He and Jim Phillips were great friends and I cannot think of two finer mentors.  My Lord has blessed me with so many friends of the highest caliber like these two.

“Growing up Clinton and Oakton” Coal heat

     

     

     Someone just reminded me of a time when nearly every home was heated with coal.  Dempsey Ringo had a mill in the north end of Clinton that bordered the Illinois Central RR near the depot and also sold coal  in an adjacent building.  Coal was brought in by rail car and was delivered by truck.  We had what was called a coal shed next to our driveway and the shed had an opening about six or seven feet high and next to the drive where they would use a coal scoop to pitch our order into the shed.  As the coal dwindled we, actually I, would scoop it into a better pile.  

     We used buckets with a lip to carry coal into the house.  The old Pot Belly   stove would have a bright red spot on the side from the heat.  It was not efficient as a furnace as most of the heat produced went up the flue.  The draft would be closed at night to save coal and make it last the night and was stoked back up in the morning.  We lived in a six room and bath house and had to have two stoves.  One was in the living room that was actually used and one in the dining room which was also used.  Then families ate together and actually carried on conversations as they ate or listened together to the radio and imagining being in the drama or comedy they listened to.  I remember my dad was a rabid U. K. Wildcats fan and we listened on the radio to Cawood Ledford announce the games.  Cawood was a household word as he knew all the players on both teams and vividly described who was where and what was happening on the floor.  Honestly sometimes I think we saw it better through his eyes than we do now with close up cameras and HD TV.

     Anyway back to our heating, I can still remember waking in the morning and stepping onto a cold, cold floor and a chilly air.  I would run to the stove and hold my hands near the side to warm them.  When my front side was warmed I turned around to warm the back side.

     It was a few years later when we got Warm Morning coal oil fired stove.  Oil has to be the most comfortable heat there is.   It maintains the humidity and eliminated the need to warm first one side and then the other.

     That still did not warm any of the space under the house and in really cold weather the water would freeze and it was my job to take rolled paper under the house and set one end on fire to warm the pipes to thaw them.  Now I know that this was a terrible fire hazard and should never be done.  Later we would wrap news papers around the pipe, until about one inch thick, to insulate them and it worked well.  Years later they would make the foam sleeves available now.

     I recall that with coal there was a stain on the ceiling, walls and woodwork that had to be washed, painted or papered often.   Coal oil was only a little better but still over time left a yellow deposit on any light surface.     Each winter there would be many homes burn from flu ash and oil buildup catching fire or an ember from a fireplace popping out onto the floor.  Burning wood was even worse about building up in the flu.  People who burned wood usually let it dry well before using and it did not build up as fast like it does now with many burning wood that has not sufficiently dried.

     In 1961-62 in Germany I noticed that most people there still burned coal.  Most of theirs was not lump but was powder compressed into bricks.  I wish I had taken a picture of one of the many chimney sweeps that I saw.  They all wore top hats and tux with white shirt.  That was uniform for sweeps.

     So many things have changed in all these years.  When I was about five or six I was fascinated with the horse drawn, box covered, peddler wagon that came by my grandparents about once or twice a week.  There were several stores but he would peddle goods all over town and I imagine out in the county.   He had pans, , skillets and cistern buckets hanging on the outside and you could hear the distinctive sound of them rattling on his wagon as it approached.  He would sharpen knives and scissors and my grandmother always had a job for him.  He also sold and sharpened shovels.  I am not positive but I believe his name was Atris (sp) Nichols.

   Another wagon and team that I saw on a regular basis was Uncle Jents or Jence Spicer with his rubber wheel horse drawn wagon.  He raised hogs and most people would put table scraps, called slop, for him to pick up.  He had barrels to haul it in.  He was a great friend to just about everyone who knew him.  He was well known for removing warts by just rubbing them.  I do not know if it was him or power of suggestion but it worked.  Both Johnny Walker and I had him remove a wart for us and in a couple of weeks it was gone.  I did notice that he always rubbed the side of his nose first so I wonder if the oil from his nose had something to do with it.  We kids loved to hang around him for he was a great story teller and kept us listening.  He was the local Uncle Remus for us.

     That was a time, probably mid 40s that most people had running water but some still had outhouses.  My granddaddy had running water but like a lot of folk then he thought it unsanitary to have an outhouse indoors.  He had a two holer that he had to move frequently.  My grandmother finally convinced him to put a bath room in the house. He was still reluctant but he did it.  “No decent person would put the facility, as it was called, indoors.”

     Who could forget the Continental Trailways bus station where Dr. Canty has his dental practice located now.  I believe the last to operate it was Tom Billy Smith.  He also had a bus to haul workers to the USEC plant, or atomic plant as we called it then, while it was under construction. 

   My family and the Smiths were close and spent a lot of time together.  I was always amazed at Tom Billy getting worms for bait.  He kept a spot by his shed wet and threw coffee crumbs on the ground there.

He had a homemade electric probe that he would plug into the outlet in the shed.  I mean the ground would be alive with big night crawlers in a minute.  He only juiced it for a short time and would get enough bait for days of fishing.  My uncle would use two cane fish poles and beat them on the ground rapidly.  He did this in low, wet bottom areas.  Supposedly it replicated the vibrations of thunder and they came to the surface for moisture.  He would sometimes drive a 1” X 2” stake in the same kind of ground and rub it with another 1 X 2 with saw blade width notches in it for the same result.  It worked for him but neither would work for me.

"Veterans Day and Memories"

              

          "Veterans Day always brings memories"  

     I lost many friends and brothers in Vietnam.  Luckily I did not go but went to Germany instead.  We were sitting in Ft. Lewis, Washington and watching the news constantly to see what was happening with the road blocks in Berlin that had been escalating.  We were a STRAC unit and had to be ready to go anywhere in the world in 72  hrs.  Men and equipment had to be combat ready.

     At 3 am we were called out for assembly.  Our battalion commander informed us that we were CAT 5 alert and this is definitely not a drill.  The whole battalion strapped down and boxed up all equipment and those who needed it had to go through needed shots and dental lab.  Those of us who had been there for a while were ready.  We had to have so many shots for different areas that we all had two shot cards that we had to carry.

     We hauled all equipment, 155 howitzers, trucks and jeeps plus our gear, to pier 5 in Seattle, Washington, to load it on ships.  My truck had a cab as well as a couple of others but the ones with canvass had to be strapped down with banding.   Being Tacoma and Seattle area it rained on us all way to Seattle.

    The next day we were loaded on MATS planes for the trip to New York where we loaded aboard the USS Buckner.   Buckner was a famous General from Hardin Co., KY.

     I spent 14 months in Germany when two friends of mine and I found that our unit had some Communist sympathizers.  Returning from pass we noticed a note on the battery bulletin board that said something like.  “To all the blacks in and around Bamberg, are you doing being treated right by your white brother, and on and on.  Our battalion had the largest percentage of black people in Europe and we all got along well but this bunch had a mission to stir up trouble.   All the time I was there they were unsuccessful.

     We reported it to the Army CID on post and within 6 hours we were questioned by two CIA agents.  They already knew who in that group handled the money and their chain of command.  We were informed that the NCO that was duty NCO that day, who we had originally informed, and was white, was one of them and they knew we had reported them.  We were informed that the next morning we would have escorts to our new stations.  One went to Alaska and I went to France to an ammo ordinance unit rotating home.  I have no idea what happened to the other guy.

     The agents were so well informed that I really think we were moved out so fast to keep the Communist from finding out they were exposed.  I suspect that they had a plant in the group and were using them.

     Not long after that my old battalion was sent to Vietnam where a year or so later were overrun and enough loss that they were disbanded as I understand.

     Once back stateside I was at Ft. Benning, Ga. we were cautioned by the brass not to wear our uniform on leave or pass.  It seems that many young anti war protesters were beating, throwing red paint or defecation on soldiers.  We were told not to fight or even defend but to retreat.  Let me say I never wore a uniform off duty and off post.  That is until then and after that I wore it anytime.  I never had a problem and to be frank I had more than one meal and beer paid for by an anonymous Veteran.  He seemed to be everywhere I went. 

    We were soon busy hauling ammo and rockets to Florida for the invasion of Cuba that seemed inevitable.  I was home on leave and our neighbor Jack Bryan was home on leave from the Navy.  We knew it was coming and every time we met we would exchange info.  We thought he would get the call first as for some reason the government said that because they canceled leave on the Army for Berlin this time it would be the Navy called first.

     I got home the second day and had a message to call operator three five.  She informed me that I was to return to my unit by the earliest available means of transportation.

    Those who think president Kennedy was bluffing about sinking the USSR ships were not there.  I did not think much of Kennedy`s morals or his politics but he was very much patriot and one hell of a Commander in Chief of the armed forces of the United States of America and he did not bluff.

Back when n Clinton n Oakton

          

           Growing up in Clinton and Oakton

    I have really loved going back and reliving such a wonderful time in my life but lots of these memories are from sixty and more years ago and sometimes it gets a little hazy.  For instance I was thinking that there were two barbers in Oakton but I was corrected.  Thanks Rita Ann.  There were evidently two shops at different times both run by Mr. Ernest Kelly.  I bet that is not the only thing I have been mixed up on but they were great memories of some of the finest folks I have ever known.  The gathering places were the three stores and the Post Office.  Usually if you needed someone they were probably at one of the stores trading tales of their exploits.  Most often on how well they did squirrel hunting at the Grinner Hole camp.      Best I can remember the camp was overseen by Hoss Clark and Doc Williams.  We kids were allowed in camp and to hunt but could not spend the night until after the first week when just about every adult male in Oakton was there to camp.  The first morning all hunters would come in early to pool their squirrels for a delicious squirrel stew.  Fried squirrel would be for a meal later in the week.  We hunted both sides of the highway and creek and all the way to Whayne`s Corner bridge.  It is strange to me now to drive through there and see all the hardwood timber gone.

     Recent reading of an article written by Tommy Kimbro about his experience working for radio station WFUL in Fulton brought to mind something that happen back then.  My dad advertised with the station a lot and we were regular early morning listeners. I believe Tommy got to work before daylight and fired up all the equipment and was all alone for a while.  On this morning after he had been in the studio for a long while he pulled the weather service teletype weather report.  I can almost hear what he read.  “Folks we are definitely not going to have any snow today.”  At that time there was half inch or more of some white substance outside the studio that fell after he arrived at work.  Well from that day forth he would give the weather and start off thus.  “The National Weather Service says…………………………………..

    Come winter and snow in Clinton one of our favorite places was Sam and Jane Harper`s drive way.  We flew at jet speed it seemed and had to make a sharp reverse S turn into hwy 51 at the bottom of the drive.  If it was early we would slide all the way to Hotel Jewell.   Sometimes there would be a car coming and we would have to go straight with a jump about five feet high at the side street between 51 and Waterfield Drive.

    Another favorite, though not as much fun, was the big house where the high school now sits.   That yard also had some huge climbing trees and we often climbed them.

    When I was about ten the house and lot was bought by the Western Kentucky Baptist for a bible school.   The First Baptist Church started a mission there with the students serving as pastor.  Mrs. Mary Benedict would play piano there and then rush to First Baptist to play there as well.  Johnny Walker and I both attended church there.  Our Sunday school classroom was in the south west corner room and church was in the bigger south east corner room. 

   Years later the college would move to Mayfield and Hickman County Schools would build the high school there.  When they tore down the old house to everyone`s surprise the room where our Sunday school classes were held turned out to be a one room log cabin.  When going into the room I had noticed that the doorway was much thicker but there was no other hint.   It is sad that the cabin could not have been moved and preserved.

    Speaking of old a friend just reminded me of the fact that outhouses were common all over back then.  My granddaddy had a two holer with the legendary Sears and Roebuck catalog.  They were an experience to say the least.  It was not uncommon for someone to be taking care of business and a wasp come from nowhere and leave a lasting impression in delicate places.

    I was also reminded of how good free ranging chicken tasted.  I cannot stand chicken now with the hormone grown fat and oil but the chickens then were delicious.  It may have been because a chicken loves to recycle. 

    Before I quit working a lady I knew raised free ranging chickens and instead of letting them sit at the Post Office and later in the car until the carrier got to her house I would take them to her as soon as they came off the mail truck.  She always offered me some but I remembered that it was my job as a kid to kill by twisting its neck or by putting its neck under a broom handle or something similar and pulling on the legs to dispatch it.  Then it was time for the feather plucking.  I would swear that a chicken could not possibly have all the feathers that I had to clean up.  After plucking I took a loose roll of newspaper and set the end on fire and used it to singe the little pinfeathers.  All that trouble just for a little chicken meat.  I decided that was just not my thing anymore.