“The good old bad old days”

 

      
They were not so bad for they brought families closer and closer to God and each other.   

     As a kid I used to love to hang around the old timers on the benches at the court house.  They were always there trading knives and telling tales.  I often wondered whatever happened to them and one day it dawned on me that the baton was passed to my generation.   Now we go to the restaurants where they have heat and air conditioning with softer seats.

      This is a little removed from what I usually remember about the days gone by but I have to believe that I grew up at the best time ever to be an American.  My parents generation had to deal with WWI, WWII and the great depression when everyone adult and child had to contribute to survive.  It surely brought them closer together as family and community but made great demands.  As Tom Brokaw declared in his book they were “The greatest generation.” Of that there can be no question.

     As a child my dad lived about 3 miles east of Bardwell and hwy 62 was gravel.  The road he lived on was dirt.  He would take eggs to town on Saturday for my grandmother and trade for flour and salt, etc.  On one trip he got a ride to his turn off of hwy 62 and when he got home he reached for the change left after the purchase and it was gone. There was a hole in his pocket.  They thought maybe it was lost when he jumped from the wagon. 

     He, my grandmother and one brother along with three sisters walked a mile to hunt for the dime he had lost.  It was a hot dry summer and the dust was inches thick.  They sifted the dust and unbelievably they found the dime.

     They were farmers and were more fortunate than many in that they had three healthy hot meals every day but it was still a trying time.

     I always remember this when I, and others of my generation, complain of what we did not have.  Until WWII most families had one bread winner and the wife usually stayed at home raising kids and keeping house.  It was not until the war that the women had to go to work at the jobs the men had done traditionally.  This was especially true for the “Rosy the Riveters.”  After the war prices forced the women to remain on the job and work beside the men to provide.  In his documentary Tom Brokaw named them, “The Greatest Generation.”  This was certainly accurate for they were that.

     We had decent clothes as kids and three good meals a day but we did have to work, baby sitting, mowing, odd jobs or whatever we could to buy anything our very modest allowance would not cover.  My allowance usually was 25 cents, which covered twelve cents to get in the picture show, five cents for a coke and five cents for an ice cream at the drug store or Peggy Young Ben Franklin store or as we called it The Dime Store.   Usually instead of buying it, I would pop corn on the stove and carry it to the show in a brown paper bag. 

     I always enjoyed the ice cream at the Walker drug store located next to what is The Hickman County Times office now.  You could smell the hand dipped ice cream as you entered the door.   They had wrought tables and chairs with counter top and chair seats of beautiful white marble.  Sometimes we could even buy a fountain coke to go with our cone.

     When WWII broke out we lived on Jefferson Street and I remember how solemn my parents were listening to President Roosevelt announcing the dastardly act of the Japanese.  Soon after that my dad was in the Navy.  I remember the rationing and shortages.  One thing that stands out for me as a five year old was bubble gum.  We lived across from the William Claxton family and Ann and I were best friends.  When supplies ran to the UtoteM store, located where Hickman County Hardware is now, we would run to the store.  It would be gone usually by the time we got there but Mr. Auvil Gunter who clerked there would always have some hid and saved for the two of us.  Not only was ration stamps required for goods most items were in short supply as the war effort came first.  As small children we did not fathom what was going on but even us little kids contributed.  We would cut tops and bottoms out of tin cans and flatten the cans with the tops and bottoms inside.  We would search for old rubber and any metals.  These items would be left at the curb and a truck would pick them up to be recycled out of necessity.  Rubber was really short because of the German submarines off the east coast of North and South America making it near impossible to get raw rubber.  Most of the owners of vehicles that were lucky enough to have gas had multiple boots in the tires.  It definitely made a slow rough ride.  I remember we could not buy bicycle tires at all and after a blown tire we would replace the tube and wrap friction tape around the wheel and tire.  Believe me this made a bumpy ride.

     Something I really miss is the stern and side paddle wheelers on the river.  Also I miss the floating fish docks at the landing at Columbus.  My dad loved the river all his life and Tommie and I shared it.  We spent many hours at the ferry landing watching them.  Tom Bencini and Girt Frizzell had fish docks a few yards north of the landing and I seem to remember a smaller dock closer to the landing.

     My dad and my granddad bought from both Tom and Girt depending on which had what they wanted.  There was a box with water and live fish where you could pick the one you wanted and for a kid it was pure pleasure to watch them steak or fillet them to order right there.

        

"Stan “The Man” Musial and others"

  

As a pre-teen and teen I worked at several stores and enjoyed all of them, but none any more than Hopkins Grocery, located diagonally across from First Community Bank.

     We were neighbors to Clint and Veatrice Hopkins and the Gaskins who lived there before them.  She asked me to help her in the yard on her day off and our biggest task was digging up wild onion bulbs and there were plenty.  Later they asked me to work at the store after school, Saturday and summer break.  They were both a hoot to be around.  To them everyone was Son.  He called her Son and she called him Son.  Customers were called Son.  Employees were called son. 

    Not long after I started there I was doing some task and Clint came by and said I was not doing it right and to do it his way.  Well in a few minutes she came by and informed me that I was doing it wrong and I should do it her way.  Well this went on for days on about any task I was doing.  Finally one day Evelyn Latta, their daughter, who also worked for them came by and said.  “Robert if you try to please both of those two you will go crazy.  They never agree with each other it is their way of fun.”  “You need to learn to do it your way.”  I did as she said and there was never a problem.  After I got my license I started delivery.  Stores in those days delivered groceries twice a day.  As everyone worked and no doors were locked I would take them into the kitchen and refrigerate what needed it and placed the rest on a table or counter.

     Clint would never let the produce or meat delivery people bring goods in until he got on the truck and inspected it.  Otherwise they would leave inferior goods.   He would make them dump potatoes in an open bin to make sure the ones on bottom were not inferior.   He would not sell anything less than what he would want.

          I just heard that one of my favorite role models has died.  When I was a teen all we wanted to do was play basketball or baseball.  We would walk the creeks looking for scrap iron and soda bottles to sell and mow yards for a little money.  We would pool our resources and head to St. Louis to watch a Cardinals Game.   Our favorite was Stan “The Man” Musial.  We would drive up and watch a daytime game and drive back the same day.  It was nice that kids using their own spending money could afford to go to a game, buy a drink and peanuts and not have to pay a kings ransom.

     We were there one day when they were playing a team who some of the other teams young fans were there and seated in front of us in the stands.  The other team was way down and the kids were taunting their own player and later wanted his autograph.  Stan ran out to left field and told them not to taunt the player he was just having a bad day and if they would meet him at a certain gate after the game he would give them his autograph.  I am sure he did too.  We did not take the opportunity to get his much coveted autograph for some reason I do not remember.  It is such a shame that to go to a game now is out of the reach of kids unless the parents hock the farm for enough money to send them.

     One summer we were at camp and the dad of one of our newest members came to visit us.  When he left our advisor Dr. O. C. Barber told me Mr Martin wanted me to come by the Chevrolet dealership, when I got home, he wanted to talk to me.  I did and he offered me a part time job at the dealership.

     I would service cars and trucks, clean floors and work benches, wash cars and at times help in the body shop.  Mr. Jim Wilmurth was the body man and he was a wonderful person.  His son Jimmy was founder of Clinton Auto Parts.  I loved working with Jim the most.  He was amazing to watch.  Mostly I would sand and mask the vehicle for him.   I have seen him stand on the ground and spray the top of a car and go to the other side and do the same.   One of us would step on a ladder to make sure there were no skips or runs and there never was. 

     Those days a fender or hood was not replaced unless mangled too much.  I loved watching him cut out a damage section of body and beat a piece of metal to weld in its place and then grind and sand it to where the weld did not show.  After painting it was better than new.  It is always a pleasure to watch a real craftsman and more so if it is a friend or family member. 

     Jim loved kids and he came in to the shop at night to paint the Explorer Scout Post 35 old school bus in explorer scout green.  When we traded up to a retired city of St. Louis transit bus he again painted it free on his time.  We would help sand and mask for him.

     I do not remember the name of everyone who worked there but I do remember that Mrs. Mallie Calbert was bookkeeper.  Harmon Parker was shop foreman and his brother Carmon along with Alfred Allen and another guy whose name eludes me were the mechanics.

     The one that conveniently, I cannot think of his name, did not like Alfred or the Parker brothers was always doing something to others.  On one particular day when I was clearing the work benches he had charged an old capacitor and left it on the table for me to clear and get shocked.  I did and it sure did hitting me on the tender spot under my forearm.  Not being one to get mad I let it go.  Anyway for a few days when he asked me to go to parts and get a tune up kit for a new 1956 Chevrolet.  I did as he asked and before taking it to him I carried it to my car and charged the capacitor on my spark plug and placed it back in the box.

     When I got back in the shop he was bent over the hood working.  I handed it to him and stepped back.   He reached for it and when he opened the box and took out the capacitor getting a good shock.  Now the 56 Chevy has an angle across the hood to strengthen it.  He jerked up hitting the brace and piercing his very bald head letting a little stream of blood run.

     The moral of this story I guess is to never get into a pee pee fight with a skunk for he will win in the end.  Other than that one person there was always a cheerful and upbeat atmosphere there.

  There was always an upbeat atmosphere and a wonderful work experience.

"Old Moody and the sewage"

     A little chat with Chester Myers today brought back something that I have not thought of in years.  His daddy, Cherry was definitely a coon hunter.  He had several dogs penned up but his blue-tick, Old Moody, ran loose.

     Once I pulled into their drive and there lay Old Moody in the drive sound asleep.  I do not see how with the loud exhaust I had but he remained asleep while I pulled the car over him.  Moe Stephens and I went in the house to get Chester and when we left ol Moody was still laying there asleep.

     When we returned Chester cried out, “Look over there.”  Moody was leaning against the outside wall of the house.  His left front leg and his left back leg were on the ground with his left side against the house.  His right front and right rear legs were crossed with the left legs.  Yep, he was again sound asleep.

     Another time Cherry took the dogs and went raccoon hunting and when the dogs were called in Old Moody was stinking to high heaven.  He had run a raccoon through some sewage somewhere.  Cherry loaded up the other dogs and left Old Moody until the next day and went back and washed him up before loading and bringing him home.

     My uncle and one of his Oakton buddies used to take me with them hunting raccoons in the bottom near where the Washout is now.  I liked the no take season best.  We let the dogs run and we built a camp fire and put on a huge coffee pot.  We would set back against a log and whittle, drink coffee and listen to the dogs run.  Each dog had a distinct voice and we could tell easy when and which dog would pick up a scent.

     Taking season was a lot less fun for me.  We would sit around the fire until the dogs treed and then had to run toward the sound.  The coon would have to be shot out of the tree in the dark where you could not see the sights so you had to be good at barrel sighting, and I was not all that good at it.

“Clinton and Oakton, touch of PO random thoughts.”

 

I was trying to unravel a computer problem this morning and it brought to mind something that happened when I was elected to the Hickman County School Board.  The day after the election the superintendent came to me and asked my reason to run as everyone has an agenda.  I responded that I was interested in my kid’s education but my secondary reason for running was to see computers used in the schools mainly so a graduate could tell a prospective employer that yes; I have had hands on experience with computers.

     To make a long story shorter we soon had the computers.  I had a photography hobby and a dark room at home.  The teachers were starting a program recognizing a teacher of the week to run in the paper with a picture and asked me if I would take the pictures.  I agreed and took pictures in all the teachers’ classrooms.  It was a wonderful experience and I really enjoyed it.  We had just acquired computers for the class rooms and one of the first teachers recognized was Ms Ruby Samples.  I was so amazed that being the oldest teacher she had embraced the new technology wholeheartedly.  She was using it as a teaching aid and not as a crutch to replace the teacher.  That all the teachers were receptive to the new technology was pretty obvious but Miss Ruby`s total acceptance really impressed me.

     Within a year we not only had computers but had computer labs at both schools and computer classes as well.

    Driving by the ICF this morning and having just read the obituary for Virginia Nell Davis reminded me of the time when it was a hospital and she worked there.  She along with Ruby Jackson, Libby Larkin, Jack Byassee, Carolyn Hickerson and Carolyn`s mom were truly angels of mercy.  One or more of them always seemed to be there when I or some of my family were patients.  Virginia, Carolyn and I were classmates and good friends as well.

    I remember when my Dad passed away my cousin, who was on a heart transplant team in Michigan, was here and Libby Larkin showed her around the facility.  On the way to my house she said that really the only things that she saw different from where she worked was that they have a heart surgeon on site at all times and the other was that the crash cart here was much more sophisticated than what they had.  Especially since ours recorded everything that occurred during an incident.  She was equally impressed with Western Baptist when I had bypass surgery there. 

     The Clinton Hickman County Hospital and Dr. Vester Jackson`s clinic both saved many lives and are a great loss to our community.  Dr. Jackson`s clinic was located just west of the museum where Jack Roberts later had an office.  I understand that there was also once a hospital where the pool room was as well but before my time I think.  The Jackson clinic had a few patient rooms as well.  I will always remember the time two friends, Jack Matthews and Dale Barclay were home on leave and were in a terrible accident and were there for an extended stay.  I doubt either would have made it to the county line by ambulance for back then the ambulance consisted of one station wagon without oxygen or EMT.   Without the hospitals we are so very fortunate that we have the Clinton Hickman County EMS and their life saving equipment and expertise.  Being able to communicate with the hospital in route so their ER can be ready ahead of time is a blessing.

     I may have mentioned this before but one of the funniest happenings at the Post Office was one of J. D. Barclay’s experiences.  It was raining hard one day and he had a parcel for one of his customers.  It seems that the house had no porch and no one was at home.  He did not want to leave a note and them have to go to the office to pick it up so he checked and the front door was open. 

     JD cracked the door just enough to put the package inside where it was dry.  Little did he realize that that was just enough opening for their dog to make a dash for the dry, warm indoors.  J. D. chased him into the kitchen where the dog took refuge under the kitchen table.

     I can just picture the rest.  As JD got on his knees to retrieve the dog the homeowners returned home to see the spectacle in front of their eyes.  Luckily they were friends and thought it was as comical as everyone else.

     Contrary to what some people believe, mail carriers take pride in the safety and security of mail and they take every precaution with the mail entrusted to them.  Invariably under the worst conditions a small amount will get wet in delivery but is kept to the barest minimum.

     JD and Ed. Latta were active officers in the American Legion of Kentucky and one being Democrat and the other Republican and along with others in the area worked tirelessly petitioning Washington to get a Veterans Medical Center in Mayfield.  They did not see it happen but I am sure that their efforts on behalf of all local veterans had a lot to do with the fine clinic located in Mayfield today.   They can be proud of their efforts.