"Memories of going to Oakton"

Growing up, I spent as much time in Oakton as I did in Clinton.  I would ride the bus, usually on Friday, and visited with relatives. 

On the bus we, Snake Kelly, Sharecropper Williams, Jackie Groaning, Glen Berry, Gilbert Crowe and others would pretend to be fighting.  We would time it so the driver would throw us off at Oakwood Church and we could walk the fields to Oakton.  I don't remember the bus driver name but he got wise to what we were doing so the last time he pulled over in same spot.  He told us to file off and he stepped out.  As we left the bus he lined us up across the front bumper.  Then he took his belt to us.  It did cure us of our stunt.

One time my uncle and some of the locals and I decided to go up the railroad to the second slough and camp and fish all night.  We met at Bill Berry`s store front porch and headed up the railroad. 

When we got there we set camp first.  This did not take long as we had been there many times.  It was then that we realized that we left our night crawlers on Bill Berry store porch.  We drew straws and guess who drew short straw.  I headed out and the further I went the darker it got even with a clear night.   I was stepping pretty well when I saw him.  It was a big old fat snake coiled up right under my feet.  Somehow I managed to take two or four steps airborne and jumped over him.  It was too dark to see but from the length and thickness it was likely a cottonmouth super moccasin..

Now everyone knows I am not afraid of snakes and have caught more than my share poison and non poison but this one got my attention.  I broke into a run then.  I went on to retrieve our bait and returned to camp. 

My grandfather had a little restaurant in the old Oakton Bank building across the road from Jim Stephens shop.  They used the old vault for a bedroom.  The lock on the door was disabled and there was a hole in the wall for ventilation. I bet I am one of the few to sleep in any bank vault especially the Oakton Bank vault.

We used to sit on the bench with old Dr. Howell and listen to his tales.   His front yard nearly across the street had a big pecan tree with pecans bigger than an average mans thumb.  One day “Sharecropper” Gene Williams and I were going to the bottom to pick up pecans.  This was the perfect opening for Doc.  He said, “Boys no need to hitch all way down there.  You can pick up under my tree over there.”

By the time we got on our knees to pick up pecans Ms Nora Howell ran out the door swinging her broom and yelling bloody murder and I thought we were to be murdered.  She swatted at us until we cleared the white picket fence in HER yard.  Looking down the street I could see old Doc bent over and cackling like an old hen.  We did not live that down soon for Doc told everyone who would listen what he did to us.