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.
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