This was to be a small collection of eight or ten short stories of my friends, now and past, as well as the community that I have loved so much. Also some of the experiences I personally have been able to enjoy. My intention was to put them on a DVD for my children and grandchildren. I was hoping that someday they might be read. Instead it has multiplied, giving me a chance to relive times past and some friends who are gone now but not forgotten. How can one person be able to receive so many, many blessings in one lifetime? Never again will someone be able to witness the stern wheelers and side wheel steam boats ply the Mississippi unless it is tour boats. Nor experience the glee of young men fishing and hearing a strange sound only to look up to see the first jet plane that we had ever seen. We had heard of them. That was not long after we were begging to take a ride in the fabric skinned biplanes, at the county picnic. They were propelled by a rotary engine and wooden propeller. They would bush hop from town to town selling rides for enough money to keep them flying.
There was one thing both communities had in common and that was swimming holes. We could never understand how our mothers always knew we had been swimming in a pond. It never crossed our minds that it was the lack of oil and the abundance of mud in our hair. Our two favorites were Harper's pond on hwy 51 north just past where the fair ground is now. The other was behind where the Cole`s and the Edwards live now. It was called Harper's gravel pit but gravel had not been hauled from there in years. Here we would fish and then swim. It was full of snakes but mostly in the east end where the big spring and bog were. There were plenty of ponds around Oakton too. One of my favorites was on Tolbert Poole.
It is funny how when you do not have cash you improvise. We would often scrounge up some baling wire and take a couple of tin cans and make walkers. Similar to stilts only a lot lower. Walking with them was no challenge but steps were. When we could get hardwood lumber we did make stilts. It was neat how the scrap piles at Clinton Lumber and Lewis Lumber always seemed to have several long two inch wide and six ft long strips of wood and as many pieces of two inch thick triangles of wood. That was just right for stilts. You would think that they did it on purpose for us.
If there was a wooden fence around you could be sure that we walked the top plank. I know the farmers appreciated this but I imagine they did the same when they were kids.
At nine we could walk through town with a 410 ga or a 22 caliber on our shoulder. Stopping at the grocery and hardware store to buy ammunition and no one would pay any attention. By nine we were taught the proper handling of firearms and how to use them.
Clinton was not too big on it but Oakton at night meant frog hunting. If there was any new visitor to the community we could also count on a snipe hunt. We were all taught about how prevalent snipes were at night and how good they taste. At one time or another everyone was left holding the bag.
I remember a couple of times that wild fires in Obion bottom were threatening houses in and around Oakton and any high school kids could get out of school to fight the fire. We would fight it with wet burlap bags. I can just see that happening now with all the liability risk.
We worked for any spending money and there was no shortage of places to spend it. In Oakton there was a restaurant for a while and three grocery stores where one could also find some mens and boys work clothes and Levi`s.
Clinton had at least five restaurants and no less than ten grocery stores with at least two groceries being hardware and appliance stores as well and carrying some work clothing. Clinton actually had a Kroger as well as a UtoteM store. Just thinking of how many businesses we supported in our community makes me wonder if all the great advances we have made were not advances at all. The local tax base sure took a licking. Travel was not easy then and there were no big box stores. With being able to run to a bigger town for needs and entertainment we destroyed our small community where we did not need guarantees for we had the honor of honest merchants to deal with. They were close to home too.
Really the Strand Theater was the focal point of our weekends. This was the one time we could count on a bit of change to go to Saturday matinee with a serial. It was a dime to get in and a nickel for popcorn. A pop was another nickel and if you wanted real butter on the popcorn that was another nickel. My parents would go the price of admittance and pop but I popped my corn at home and carried it in a brown paper grocery bag. The serials I remember were called cliff hangers as they stopped at a crisis and would be continued until the following Saturday.
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