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Remember When

  • Remember When: ‘Papa, act your age’ – Don’t want to quite yet

    Like a thief in the night, he came and messed stuff up.
    I began to notice little things, shortness of breath when bending down, but that didn’t last long after taking a short break. The breaks became more frequent, and walks around the yard became fewer.
    My doctor said my heart was good for a man of my age. I could have figured that one out all by myself.  Getting up real quick sometimes made me a might dizzy. Shucks, that happened bunches of times.

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  • Remember When: Hood’s livery and the farm wagon show

    There was a time when a whole block of South White Street consisted of Hood’s Livery and Barnes’ Blacksmith Shop. Right across the street was Sweatt’s Corn Milling Co. Business was brisk, but not as fast as today. Time marches on, but let’s take a little glance back at Mr. Quay Hood’s Livery Barn.
    As I recall, Tuesdays were auction day for the finest choice of mules around. Cows were sold and traded most every day.

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  • Remember When: Pondering whether to traverse L&C trestle

    Round at First Baptist Church, just a block off of Main, was Troop 70, Boy Scouts of America.
    The weather was beginning to really warm up and there were bunches of merit badges to be earned. I was in a patrol with several more boys older than me, so you see I had to do most of the hard work Scouts are known for.
    To tell the truth, the best thing I liked about the Scouts was getting all dressed up in my uniform. That wide-brimmed campaign hat just topped everything off.

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  • Remember When: Easter chick Fred turned into a terror

    I remember one Easter when Mama’s azaleas didn’t look too good. Quite often an Easter cold snap comes and takes a bite out of flowering plants and little girls in bare-back Easter dresses.
    It was time for a visit to Jim Kirk’s and Charlie Blankenship’s feed and farm store to browse through the shrubbery. There was still a chill in the morning air, so Mama went inside and there she spotted a lonesome yellow baby chick in a huge wire cage.

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  • Remember When: New school so exciting through eyes of 5-year-old

    Well, sir, the $199 million school bond was approved by voters. Actually, not many folks even bothered to step out in the chilly weather and vote for or against.
    To tell the truth, like a lot of old fixed-income souls, I shout: “Honey, how much more can we stand?” And she answers back: “Somebody’s got to care, you know, we have great-grands in school.”
    I shake my head. Lord knows, let’s hope there are jobs for them.

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  • Remember When: Country stores really haven’t changed much

    America is akin to an old-fashioned scale. On one side is all the modern technology and the folks with all the answers, and on the other end keeping everything in balance and on an even keel are country stores and the people who operate them.
    My son Blake has a delivery route from the N.C. mountains to the S.C. low lands. He distributes tobacco products where folks still puff away and ignore the cautions.

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  • Remember When: The Fixers: Boys club for school’s oddest jobs

    Not all school clubs back in my youth were havens of snobbery where feelings were trampled on. Out in my little cave where I have the freedom to sit and recall stuff that happened years ago, I keep copies of the 1950 and 1951 Lancaster High School yearbook, the Rambler.
    There was one club that we called the Fixers Club, with unofficial advisors Mr. W.C. Hawkins, Mr. C.B. Alexander and Mr. C.W. Reece.

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  • Remember When: Itching to see Lancaster, the old mill from the air

    Mama always said I was too much in a hurry and didn’t read directions. Shucks, most stuff didn’t need directions anyway.
    Some of the local boys were home from the war and a few of them had been pilots. Out at Coulbourne airport were several little Piper Cub airplanes. Single engine and lightweight, mostly for joy riding and picture taking, I’d say.

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  • Remember When: Solving world’s ills under shade trees in downtown park

    Bet there are a few of you old codgers who can still recall the clang of a heavy metal horseshoe striking an iron rod.
    I remember those games of horseshoes between mostly grown men in shirts with rolled up sleeves. Usually, the crowd standing around the dusty ground roared after each throw. The winner got no shiny trophy, just the pleasure of being recognized by his peers as a pretty good horseshoe thrower.

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  • Remember When: Driver’s permit: Is there a more joyous moment?

    What a grand day, that day I got my driver’s permit.  My daddy being sheriff didn’t help one iota.
    I had to climb those old back steps at the courthouse, take a written test and give the highway patrolman a ride, making sure I did all the stuff expected. Parallel parking, which took place in a marked-off space out behind the police station and almost under the big old water tower, made me nervous, but I passed with flying colors. 

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