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Remember When

  • History can wear you out

    It’s a given that I have a very healthy respect for boogers, hobgoblins and ordinary ghosts.

    Since I’m now in southern Maryland a few days each month, I figured I oughta try to learn a little something about this place.

    The town my granddaughter and her family now call home is Lexington Park.

    A little bigger than Rock Hill, its name comes from the Navy aircraft carrier, the USS Lexington, which was sunk by the Japanese in World War II during the Battle of the Coral Sea.

  • I keep my wings in the junk drawer

    Heavens to Betsy, what was that? I only turned my head for a second when I heard the crash of something heavy on our kitchen floor.

    My young great-grandson had managed to pull the “junk” drawer off its runners and bang, to the floor, it tumbled. What a mess.

    That’s probably happened at one time or another at every home in this county.

    I’d wager that just about everybody has a junk drawer.

    It’s OK; we’re supposed to have a place to store discarded stuff that will surely come in handy at some future time.

  • Bridge steers me from trouble

    Remembering the past, unfortunately, isn’t always as much fun as a wagon load of fresh cardboard and a hot backyard construction project just waiting for a young boy’s touch.

    There were some bad times, too, including jail time – that my father, the late Major Evans, saw more than I did when he was county sheriff.

    To me, jail time has to be the worst. I know I don’t want to experience any confinement first hand.

  • Cardboard shortage doesn't ground me

    I’m sorta glad to see more folks hanging onto stuff and making the old new again these days.

    For me, its a reminder of our backyard outbuildings concealed by hedge bushes and such.

    Long before I arrived on the scene, homeowners had horse barns, wagon sheds, storage buildings and various shacks on their property.

    But changing times brought on by automobiles meant that many of those old structures fell into disrepair.

    However, I wasn’t one to neglect anything.

    For me, those old abandoned structures were a saw mill gold mine. 

  • Mr. Dunn knows a bargain for sure

    My sweet tooth was aching. Bless Pete, a big, old Buffalo nickel-sized Baby Ruth candy bar would surely ease the pain.

    I wasn’t financially embarrassed, but I was short on funds. All I had jingling in my pocket was three or four brownies.

    I couldn’t fight off the urge any longer. Mr. James Hinson’s store was up the street past Mr. Hubbard’s place, right across the street from Marion Tennant’s.

    I guess I had to settle for some penny candy bars.

  • Storage space never lasts

    The genuine metal storage building I recently put together is just about full.

    You know, for some reason, I have trouble parting with a lot of my stuff.

    I’ve always been that way, which is no big secret around our house.

    After all, a man’s toys are a man’s toys and his plunder house is his castle.

    Toys are like old friends.

    We’re supposed to hang on to them as long as we can.

    My wife has been knowing that ever since she helped my parents pack and move from Chesterfield Avenue to Bell Town a number of years ago.

  • I found a friend in the carnival swing man

    They called it a carnival. For me, it was more or less a county fair wannabe.

    This small outfit popped into town during the lull of my summer vacation.

    It only had about three or four rides and all of them were old, but it was something to do.

    Rides aren’t everything, I guess.

    There was a midway sideshow featuring the dog-faced man, a fat woman and a fella who could swallow swords.

    Why, they even had what one of the fellas called a “hootchy-kootchy show.”

  • A cattle baron I'm not

    Uncle Walter grew tired of running a service station and decided to take up the cattle business.

    He wasn’t content to just raise a few head on his Highway 903 spread, either.

    Uncle Walter was really into it; the two concrete silos you rode by going to the beach were proof. They were his.

    Uncle Walter even hauled cows to the sales in Columbia and Mineral Springs on a regular basis.

  • It's always best to get the lay of the land

    You can get into trouble when you don’t know the territory.

    Two brothers who lived down the street, their cousin from Arch Street, and me had a fishing trip all figured out.

    Now, this fishing hole boasted a right nice cabin where we could all spend the night.

    The oldest member of our quartet did the driving and as planned, we arrived just before sundown.

  • B-25's can still get the best of me

    I got an up-close look at a refurbished U.S. Army Air Corps B-25 bomber at a recent air show in Maryland.

    In keeping with its legacy, crew members dressed in the World War II flight suits.

    Powered by two propeller driven engines, the B-25’s huge twin stabilizer tail was painted with white stars signifying it as an American war plane, that thing was quite a sight.

    A quick tour revealed an almost strange plainness of the B-25’s interior.