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I have always believed that every thing happens for a reason. Some are good and some turn out bad. Well, this experience when I was still single and riding around in my 1954 Ford convertible started out on the good side.
My convertible was my pride and joy when I was going to college. In the summer I worked with my father building houses. This was how I made my money to buy my car and attend college. I was one cool dude back in the younger days. We were building a house near a small town call Wartrace and once a week we would go into the little town to eat lunch at the only cafe. A cute waitress worked there and caught my eye. After several trips to eat lunch I wrote her a note and told her where to find it after I left. I didn't want the other guys to tease me if she refused. In the note I asked her for a date. The next time I went to eat she said her mother would have to meet me and would I come to her house on Sat. evening. She told me she had broke up with her boy friend of two years before meeting me.
Sat. I spend the morning washing and cleaning my convertible. I arrived at her house with the top down and was nervous having to meet her mother. Her mother told me she could not go out with me until she got to know me better. I could come to her house any time on the week end and visit . This ain't going like I wanted it but I went along for a few weeks. The girl told me her family really like her x-boyfriend and her mother was against me going with her. I found out that my high school basketball coach was her uncle and he had put in a good word in for me.
On a Sat. visit to her house her brother told me she was in the hospital. I went to the flower shop and bought flowers to take to her. When I went into the girls room everybody went out into the hall not very happy to see me with the flowers. I did score a bunch of points with the girl bring her the flowers. No points with the mom???
Once the girl was home and on my next visit it hit the fan!!!! Her mom flat out told me I was not going to date her daughter. " I know what you Tullahoma boys are after," she told me. This made the girl cry and she said she was sorry about what her mom said to me. Well, I could see I was not wanted around her daughter so I got in my car and roared out of the driveway. I had to go back through town and saw her X-boyfriend and he motioned for me to stop in the parking lot. We were having a friendly talk and he said he didn't have any trouble with me seing her. Shortly a deputy sheriff pulled up to where we were talking and came up to me and said, " You get out of town now and I better not see you here again." The guy told him we were only talking and I wasn't causing him any trouble..Turns out the deputy is the brother to the girls mom. As I'm getting into my car to leave he says." Don't ever let me see you back in Wartrace."
Twenty years later I had to go through Wartrace, my cap was down over my eyes, sunglasses on, and I had a beard. He didn't even see me???
Growing up in our teenage years life becomes a great adventure, this was true in my case. In my teen years there were no drugs, no beer or whiskey in my town . Yes, I guess you could call my town a one horse town. We did do things to amuse ourselves back in those days and I will share a night three friends and myself went on a watermelon mission??
. OK , a mission sounded better than we went to steal some melons.
Charles had a black 1946 Chevy and drove that dark night to a watermelon field near Woods Lake. Plans had been made as we traveled about 10 miles to the field loaded with ripe watermelons just waiting for the four of us. Larry's uncle lived next to the man's farm near the lake and it had been his idea for the great heist. " Guys you wouldn't believe how many big melons are in that patch." The melon patch was a distance away from the owners house and he would never know we were there? Wrong!!
On our arrival Charles pulled the old Chevy into a wooded area near the field. Each of us were to enter the field and bring back melons and put them into the trunk. Off we go on our mission, things were going as planned and we had almost filled the trunk with our bounty. G.W. says, " guys lets get out of here before we get caught." Guys I have seen the biggest melon in the field and I want to go get just one more. OK, Nick go get it and we will wait for you. I arrive at the location of the biggest melon I have ever seen. That big boy must weigh 75 pounds. It's all I can do to get it into my arms and head back to the car. A voice in the distance rings out, "STOP OR I'M GOING TO SHOOT!!!!" My heart is in my throat as I begin to run with that big melon! A shotgun blast rings out into the night air! I'm saying a little prayer as I run , Lord if you will pick up these feet I will put them down! Why didn't I drop that big melon, I'm sure I could run faster but no I'm not giving up this baby. In my haste I hit another melon with my feet and fall and my prize burst into several pieces.
I finally make it back to the car and shout, "Get out of here he's got a shotgun!" We later eat some of the melons and gave some away but mine didn't taste all that good. To this day I have a hard time eating watermelon. NOT!!!!
Growing up in small towns kids are likely to get into some trouble. Now days kids face more trouble than in my day as a youth. Back in the 50's in my small home town life was free from drugs, alcohol and other vices. We had no liquor stores and we thought drugs was what our doctors prescribed when we were sick. Oh, yes there was a woman in town who sold whiskey from her home. Moonshine was available if you knew the right people. Years later we all learned who the players were. Old Miss Eller, I never expected she was selling liquor from her house and I mowed her yard. Bobby Y's grand father selling moonshine. Now looking back my little town wasn't as clean as I remember. Progress??
In the fifth grade some of the buddies I ran with had played hooky from school and had got by with their efforts. If you lived close to the school you could leave school at lunch time and go home for lunch. Our school served one side of town and another school served the other side. No school buses back in my day. Kids walked or rode bikes to school.
Plans were made by several of my buddies to skip school the next day at lunch time. I had never skipped school but was asked to play HOOKY with three classmates. I think I had second thoughts about going along with the group. Bobby T called me a chicken so what do you do??
At lunch time the four of us were off to play hooky for the rest of the school day. Corky came up with a good idea to pass the time away till school was over. A grocery store was near the school and lets get some cokes and some cigars and go into the woods behind the store and smoke . Yeah, we are bad?? The next 2 1/2 hours seemed like an eternity. Cokes and cigars were only a nickel back then. I'm thinking this isn't as much fun was I thought. Finally three o'clock rolled around and what happen to me next was a stupid blunder on my part. Corky said, " Nick I will let you ride my new bike if you will go get it at school." How could I refuse to ride a new bike, I didn't even have one. At school I get to the bike and the Principal calls out to me. " what are you doing?" Corky said I could ride his bike home. You boys skipped class didn't you?? I'm caught, yes I confess. I'm told to let Corky come and get his own bike. We are in deep trouble. 
The next morning we are all called to Mr. Eoff's office. Bobby Y is called first and get 5 licks with the paddle, Bobby T gets his 5 , Old Corkey comes out with a tear in his eye and it's my turn. Why am I so stupid as I enter the room of doom. I'm in for a big surprise?? " Nick since you told me the truth I'm not going to paddle you but let this be a lesson to you and don't do this again." I never played hooky again. The next year Mr. Eoff picked me to be one of the school's patrol boys.
Our family always looked forward to our trips to spend time with Pa. and Granny. They lived in Fayetteville, Tn. just 30 miles from our home. They were Mom's family. I never knew my father's folks as they died while he was young. Pa and Granny's son Billy was almost the same age as me. Even though he was my Uncle he was only 3 months older than me. My Mom and Granny were pregnant at the same time. Mom's first child and Granny's last child. They must have shared some happy times together. Mom certainly looked forward to spending the week ends with her family. Mom, Granny and my sister Janice shared their time together while the men went on their Big Fishing Trips.
Pa only would fish one way; trotline fishing is the only way to fish he would tell us. We would arise early on Sat. mornings and Granny and Mom would have breakfast waiting for us before we would travel to a creek to catch bait for the fishing trip. We would catch minnows, crayfish and helimites. Pa also would take along some stinking chicken livers to use as bait.
Trotline fishing for those of you who never have heard of this method of fishing is a spacing of fish hooks tied to a strong line. The ends of the line with the hooks attached are tied off on the banks of the river to a limb or tree. The line and hooks are baited and set into the water out of danger from boats hitting them. Once the trotlines are baited and placed Pa would leave them until Sun. morning. Up early and off to the river to see if we caught any catfish or redhorse. Pa and Dad would paddle the river boat to the lines and if they were moving you had fish on the line. Pa would pull the lines up and man look at that catfish. Once he had the fish in hand he tossed it into a toe sack. He would continue taking the fish off the lines. Pa always had a great catch. When all the fish were into the sack it was time to reclaim all the trotlines they had placed and get them into the boat. Careful with those sharp hooks. The lines always were in a mess after bring them into the boat and Pa would at a later date untangle the lines for the next fishing trip. These fishing trips are etched into my brain and were the happiest of early childhood. Once while Billy and I were in the boat a snake fell from one of the overhanging trees into the boat. I've always had a fear of snakes and the water. I never learned to swim. Well, when that snake fell into the boat and was curled up next to my feet I dove out of the boat head first into the Elk River. Fortunate for me the water was only about two foot deep where I landed and I skinned my head.
Once back to Pa and Granny's house the feast was on. A big black kettle was placed over an open fire hanging from a tripod. Into the pot filled with grease went the catfish that the men had filleted. Fried to a golden brown and when done they floated to the top. When all the fish were out of the pot hush puppies were cooked in the same pot. Granny had made slaw to go with the meal and just thinking back to these times makes my mouth water. On our return home we would get to take some catfish home with us for Mom to cook later. These were cooked on a wood stove but never tasted like those cooked outside by Granny. Life and time takes it's toll on families. Granny died from a black widow spider's bite at age 56. Pa lived a long life into his late 80's. Their times on this earth are remembered by their hard work and love for there fellow man.
Rover looks like he's guilty. Yes, Rover ate all $400. It must have tasted like chicken to old Rover. In Rover's defense she shouldn't have left the money laying around and he didn't have enough to eat so he just chowed down on all $400.
