RAMBLINGS IN THE NIGHT

RAMBLINGS IN THE NIGHT.

I grew up in one of the most beautiful places God ever created, the mountains of Western North Carolina.  Not 20 feet out my backdoor was the woods.  For a young boy of 6 years of age there were trees that needed climbed, thickets that needed explored, and a branch with all sorts of interesting life waiting to be discovered.  It was perfect. For a small boy who loved adventure.

We lived next door to my Grandpa, when I was growing up, My Mom, Dad, and I. I ate supper every night setting at my Grandpa’s table, Mom would cook the evening meal and have it ready by the time Dad, my Grandpa, various uncles, and Mom sister, and her children, who by the way were my playmates growing up.

Mind you growing up in the 70’s is totally different to how kids grow up today. My cousins and I had a whole mountain as our playground when I was growing up. Today most kids have playrooms in their homes, 4 walls, with a flat screen TV, and a video gaming system. Not us. We had the mountain.

Now growing in a rural area for some seems crazy. Now a days everyone eithers wants to live in the city or as close to it as possible. For various reasons, like work, or shopping, even entertainment. The slow laid back life of country living seems foreign to most. Atoah community follows Atoah creek to its head. Homes and farms dot the area. Most everyone is related to their neighbor in some way. Everyone kept an eye on everyone else’s kids. If one of us turned up missing then our Moms would call around until she found us.

I had chores when I was growing up. Mow the yard, stack wood for the winter, feed the dogs, weed the garden, put up hay, slop the pigs, just to name a few. Oh there were many more chores.  We raised tobacco. It was hard work, from the time it was planted until it was cut and hung in the barn. Many days and evenings were spent howing, fertilizing, suckering, and topping until Dad said it was time to cut. Once it was cut it was put on poles and hung in the barn to dry out and cure. Then after it had set for a while, Dad would say that the tobacco was in case and needed to be graded. Many long nights was spent setting in the cold in the barn striping the leaves off the tobacco stalk. Your hands would become black from the tar, during the grading process.

That is how we survived. Raising tobacco, paid the bills, bought the little extra things that we needed and a few things that we wanted.  We raised most of the food we ate. I spent many a summer working in the garden, raising crops of one variety or another. We had pigs, chickens, cows, and goats. We didn’t run to the grocery store every time we wanted to cook a meal.  We’d either get it out of the can house or the smoke house or freezer.

Now growing up this wasn’t all work and no fun.  In the summers we would go to the swimming hole at the Snowbird picnic area. It is located at the mouth of Santeelah Lake and Snowbird creek. Even in the summer the waters of Snowbird creek were bone numbing cold. But we didn’t care. There would be a big group of us there swimming. And then other times we would go to where the old John Carver boat dock used to set and lay out in the sun and swim in Santeelah Lake. Life was simple, but fun.

One of my earliest memories is of church. My family is religious. I grew up in a Baptist Church. Atoah Freewill Baptist Church was a stones throw from my home. I could walk to church from my house in under 5 minutes. The church had another name. It was called the Wild Hawg Church. This was because when it was built, the church was set on blocks and you could crawl under the church. Wild hawgs would root and waller underneath the church hence the nickname the Wild Hawg Church.

My Grandpa was the choir director at the church. He taught me and my cousins to sing the song before we were able to read or write. I loved to sing in the choir. Those old hymns would lift my spirits. The Bible says make a joyful noise unto the Lord. Singing gave me great joy. My cousin Irene played the piano and her Mom Eloise played the guitar.

The church doors were open on Sundays. There wasn’t any air conditioning, unless you count open windows and doors, with a breeze blowing as air conditioning. Uncle Vester would get early on Sunday morning before church and go unlock the church so those that wanted to get to church early could get in. Now he had ole dog named brownie and my Grandma had a beagle name Buster those two dogs were more faithful to the church than most church members. Those dogs were there every time the church doors were open. I know a few so called Christians that could take lessons in faithfulness to Gods house from Brownie and Buster.

Now growing up in a Baptist Church, we didn’t have a baptismal pool. So when someone received Jesus Christ as Lord and Savior, they were baptized out at the Snowbird picnic area. Yep the old swimming hole is also the baptizing pool. Now as I said earlier Snowbird Creek is bone numbing cold even in summer.  My Mom was baptized in February when she was a young girl. She told me that she was worried that she might get sick. One the deacons of the church told her not to worry, she would be ok.  Well the day that she was baptized it was like 20 degrees outside. The baptism still took place; there was ice on the rocks. Oh yeah within two weeks Mom had pneumonia, she nearly died from it.

I come from a fairly large family. I am an only child. But Mom and Dad, had brothers and sisters. And my grandparents well let’s just say over a dozen siblings each. Like I said, I come from a large family. One thing we did often was family get together at my Grandma Ruby’s house. She had a nice farm, with cows and chickens. Big open meadows and Sweetwater Creek ran through the meadow behind her house.

There was a huge pine tree in her back yard that we could set up picnic tables and chair and have family reunions with the whole family and feast on the fine cooking of the women in my family. One particular Sunday, after feasting on good ole country cooking, that Grandma Ruby prepared. We decided to have a baseball game out in the meadow, where we grazed cattle. So there were fresh cow patties all over the field. We marked off bases keeping in mind that we need to be mindful of the patties, in order to avoid any type of accidents. It was loads of fun, until my cousin Robbie had a most unfortunate accident.  Picture it, I’m on second base and Robbie is up to bat.  The ball is pitched, Robbie swings bam bat and ball connect and the ball soars in to the outfield. I take off running toward home plate.  Now as you were rounding 3^rd base you had to be careful. You really needed to make and sharp turn in order to avoid a fresh cow patty. Well Robbie in all his excitement completely forgot about the pattie as he rounded 3^rd base. Instead of making a sharp left, he over shot the turn and ran right into that fresh cow pattie. Boom down he went and he slid from heel to head in that pile of cow doodie.

Now I have successfully made to home plate scoring a run for my team.  I was waiting at home plate to high 5 Robbie when he decide to take a dip in that fresh cow shit. I lost it. I was on the ground laughing my ass off. Robbie stood up looking for all the world like that anatomically correct man, covered in cow shit. Then his eyes locked onto me. Robbie turned beat red.

Well I took off as fast as my legs would take me cause I knew that Robbie was going to beat the crap out of me. Robbie was a year and a half older than me. He was short and stocky. While I being the younger was tall and lanky. I headed for the road. Old Sweetwater Road ran in front of my Grandma’s house and parallel with the meadow that we had been playing ball in. Now the road set about seven feet above the meadow. And the fence row ran beside the road or did I should say, until my Grandma’s second husband moved it to the bottom below the road.

I was nearly to the road when I realized that the fence had been moved. I attempted to jump the fence and not slow down. But for whatever reason I misjudged and I landed on top of a live electric fence. Now to say that what transpired next wasn’t just as funny as what happened to Robbie would be an understatement. It was funny, but not to me and not at the particular time.

Here I am twisted up in an electric fence that is sending electricity coursing through my body. I am doing a dance on the electric fence. It looks like I am having a seizure, I am shaking, attempt to call for help, but the electricity is causing me to stammer. What does Robbie do, he stops and watches me getting electrocuted. Yeah, Yeah pay back is a bitch, Robbie is now laughing at me. My Dad and uncle finally catch up to us. Uncle Charlie grabs me by a belt loop on the back of my shorts and yanks me off the fence. And all is well again. Robbie strips off his dirty clothes and we head to the creek to have a swim. Robbie walks down stream and gets cleaned off, then comes to the swimming hole and joins the rest of us for a swim. 

MORE TO COME.  Written 20FEB2016