SUMMERTIME AND THE LIVIN' IS EASY

After the Scooter craze left me, I became the proud owner of an Army jeep from WWII.  It used more oil than it did gas.  We’d pile in it and breeze out to the Hoopee to do some skinny dipping, fishing, and joking around.   There was never any alcohol, drugs, or even cigarettes.  We just had plain old fun!

Richard’s Daddy had a nice pond out in the country near Stillmore with a train caboose for a cabin.  He kept that pond stock with nice fish.  We helped him feed the fish.  Once, we put a couple of bags of feed in to help them get bigger, sooner.  We apparently thought they weren’t big enough for frying.  That got us into some pretty big trouble with the Doctor.   Later, when the fish did get bigger, we’d catch a bucket full and take to McKinney’s Pond to sell for gas money.  Our transportation at that time, was Richard’s Momma's big ole’ Cadillac.  If she only knew….

Now, the caboose was a great gathering place in the summer months for some serious fishing and frolicking.  Sometimes there would be a crowd of folks and sometimes just our gang.   Sometimes the Doctor would have his guests out for some fishing and always had a pretty good stock of food in the kitchen there.  Once, we opened up some Caviar and helped ourselves with some saltine crackers.   Dr. B was pretty upset over that one too. 

Water skiing was a big priority during the summer.  Groups of us would gather at Holloway’s pond, and spend a whole day water skiing.  Richard had a nice boat.  We had some good skiers too in our crowd.  Sumner's Beach was another good spot for water skiing.  It was the “country resort” in our day. 

One year, at Christmas, we decided that there were some families in the black community that needed some help with their meals.   It was a common practice in those days for the grocers to leave their produce out on the sidewalk overnight.  We would take just a little from each one, put it in a paper sack, and strike out for the homes we thought might have little children in need.  I was the getaway driver in my Daddy’s ’50 Ford, and the others would jump out and run put the sacks on the porch of the houses.  We were kind of modern day Robin Hoods.  

My Daddy always parked his car around back of the J. C. Coleman Hotel.  At first, I would go ask him if he would let me drive around town to see my girl or run an errand.  After I got legal, I got smart and had myself a key made so I could slip around the corner without him ever knowing and always get the car back by the time he got off work.  Once, I needed a part for my Scooter so I got a couple of boys and we headed off to Augusta with Daddy’s car.  I was doing my normal speed.  Fast.  We were way down the road when the right front tire blew out.  Major blast.  I handled myself pretty good and brought that car to a standstill just off the side of the road.  I put on the spare, made it back to town and took the tire to Flanders Tire Co., where I talked Mr. Flanders into giving me an old tire so Daddy wouldn’t miss the one that blew out.  The car was back in its spot when Daddy got off from work.  

I sold my scooter and my jeep for a fine and dandy little black ’40 Ford with a rumble seat in the back.  It was something fine!  I can see me and Rose now cruising Sam’s Drive-In.  Those were the days!

It's been a long time since those days.  Good times, bad times, funny times, and sad times.  Material things come and go, but a lifetime of good friends and wonderful family make life worth living and I'm so proud to have had both.

BOYS WILL BE BOYS

I was lucky to have great friends in my hometown.  Growing up in small towns in the 50’s was so different from today.   Friendships were bonds that will never grow old.  Even though many have passed on, my memories from those years will never leave.  

There were a group of us that kind of stuck together.  Partners in crime, you might say.  We’d gather either before school or after school and plot or plans.  Sometimes plans went haywire and we’d wind up in the office of our high school principal, Mr. Glenn.  John, Jack and I all had Scooters.  It was the 50’s version of a “hog.”  Mine was red. 

In the 50’s, having a bomb shelter was something many people thought about.  The threat was real.  Mr. D, Jack’s Daddy decided to build a bomb shelter.  It was basically a hole in the ground, with a 55-gallon drum for the entry way and had a lid for the top.  There was a ladder going down into the hole, which was stocked with some rations, water, a couple of cots and blankets.  It even had electricity.  Survival kind of stuff.   It was like a small room but with a dirt floor, dirt walls, and a ceiling reinforced with railroad ties, then tin and dirt.   It became our “hide-out”.  Or so we thought.  

One day, after we checked in at homeroom, we slipped out a side door and headed for our hide out on our scooters.  We scooted down the “hole” ladder, and began making our plans for our next venture.  All of sudden, a horn is blasting up top.   Somebody said, “shhhhh” and we all fell quiet.  Jack eased up the ladder, raised the lid, and right there stood Mr. Glenn.  Apparently he had followed up from school.  “Alright boys, I know you’re down there, come on out.”  He followed up back to school.  This earned us a few days of washing windows, taking out trash, and cleaning blackboards.  Got off pretty lightly that time.  

Another day, the three of us decided it was warm enough to slip out to Coleman’s Lake.  Once again, about the time we crossed the bridge kicking up dirt, we looked around and there he was again.  “Alright boys, where you think you’re going?”  He followed us back to school.  This earned more window washing, blackboard washing, along with a few days’ detention.   Mr. Glenn was a fine man.  He just wanted to keep his herd together and there were no lengths to what he would do to make sure we stayed in the herd.  We pretty much respected his judgement after that.   I’ve often wondered if he didn't  have a good laugh at the end of the day about our little adventures.

I do recall, however, that Mr. Gambrell, showed me what a paddle was used for and so did Coach Schwabe, but for the life of me, I can’t remember the offense.  I’m sure it was a similar circumstance that a few of us decided might work out for us, and failed. 

FIRST COMES LOVE...

I’m not sure exactly when I fell in love with the girl that would become my wife.  We both have memories of “liking” each other all the way back to the 4^th grade.  I remember her as a sort of quiet girl with a sprinkle of freckles on her cheeks.  I just knew I wanted her to like me as much as I liked her. 

We passed notes to each other all through those grammar school years, although we were not in the same classroom after the 4^th grade.  But we managed to play outside together or talk to each other on the playground at recess from then on to high school where it became obvious to me that I was in love.  Both of us had the same friends.  Sollie + LaRose was written on the little notes,  and in high school, everybody wrote messages of our love in our annual year books.   I guess it was just accepted by everybody that we were a boyfriend and girlfriend pair. 

I would walk home from school with her and carry her books all the way home.  I was very shy around people I didn’t know and her parents weren’t too keen on her having a boyfriend so early and so young so I didn’t hang around her house when we got there.  The only time we ever got to see each other was at school until she was 14 when her parents finally allowed us to have a real date.  A couple of times before that, we went to the movies at night together with her Mother driving us there in their car.  Then we’d walk home alone in the cold nights. 

I started driving my Daddy’s car when I was about 15 and would drive up to New Street and circle the block, spinning wheels,  kicking up dust and being cool.  Round and around.  She didn’t come outside, but I knew she saw me.   I was a legal driver by the time she was allowed to date, so her Mother didn’t take us anymore.  That wasn’t my most favorite way to date my girl.

I guess it was probably our first real date when we went to the county fair together on a cold night in October.  We rode all the rides together, looked at the exhibits and I tried to win various things throwing balls or shooting play guns at a bull’s eye.  There was this particular side show called the Koo Koo Motel.  (Yes, that was the name) I remember it was dark inside and there was a maze of stuff that you had to go through to find your way out the other side.   Well, we went in together, holding hands and walked through the maze.  Somewhere about the middle, she leaned up against me and I wrapped my arms around her and drew her to me for our first kiss.  Good grief, I thought I had died and gone to heaven.  I guess she did too since after that first one, our fate was sealed to be a couple in love, destined to be married one day.

Each school year we would get adjoining lockers so we could see each other between classes.  The Principle, Mr. Glenn, passed in the hall a couple of times when we were holding hands, and tell us we had to stop that.  We had two classes together.   Mrs. Bailey, our teacher for both classes was one of my favorites.   One of those was Speech and I remember us having a play which was a lot of fun to do.  We enjoyed “acting” together.    We would sit outside at lunch on the grass and hold hands and talk.  Mr. Glenn didn’t like that either.  He called "Rose" into his office and lectured her saying her parents wouldn’t like it.   And they wouldn’t have.  But working every night at the drive in didn’t give me much time to date so we had to talk when we could. 

 

Our dates consisted mostly of sitting in the car at the Dixie Drive In where I worked.    I would put on a reel, run out to the car, and well, you know, we’d talk.  Then sometimes, the reel would run out, the screen would go black, and the horns start blowing, and I’d jump out and run back in to put on another reel.  It is funny now, to think about those days and how we had so little time for real dating.    We were young and in love.  Through those high school years, there would be dates with other girls,  but the one I loved would always come out on top of the list.  It was meant to be. Everybody knew we would get married someday.   Christmas of our senior year, I went to the jewelry store where I had gained the trust of Mr. Stewart, and picked out what I thought was the prettiest wedding set in the store and asked her to marry me.  Somehow I mustered up the nerve to ask her Daddy if I could marry her.  He gave his blessings, she loved the ring, and  we set a date in August for our wedding.  The rest is history.

"First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes "Rose" with a baby carriage."  Written in an old Autograph Book in our box of memories.