August 25, by jswilli Bob and Neely lived in the middle of this bottom land in a house that sat on 3 or 4 foot stumps. It was a 2 room cabin with screen porches that ran the length of the house. The back porch had studs that were chewed by the goats that were put there when the river flooded. During deer season the place filled with hunters. We went there most weekends to squirrel hunt and what not.
They had a pump house where we would pump buckets of water. We would carry those buckets up on the porch just by the door. We would put a tin dipper in the bucket. The dipper was used to dip a drink of water or fill a bottle. The plastic water bottle and canteen was yet to be designed. If you wanted to carry water with you while hunting you had to have an old metal Army surplus canteen and the webbed belt that could carry it.
Most of us used a bottle. That bottle would have been a half pint or pint whiskey bottle, depending on how thirsty you thought you would be. We would fill those bottles at the bucket by the door using the dipper.
Then we stick them in the game sack of our hunting coats. This was before plastic or the popularization of the metal flask. The whiskey bottle was perfect for the job. It was slim and fit nicely against the back side and for the time it was not too heavy. Of course now, we would throw them in the recycle bin and use a plastic version of the same thing.
Picture this: A ten or twelve year old standing in the bottom lands next to a slough with cypress trees, holding a shot gun � a or 20 gauge, slung over his arm. The kid with the gun reaches behind into his game sack and removes a whiskey bottle. The whiskey bottle is filled with a clear liquid. He opens the bottle and takes a swig, closes it returns it to the game sack and then continues to search for a squirrel he might shoot at it.
Ah yes! My life and I loved it. Posted in Uncategorized Leave a Comment �. August 7, by jswilli When I was a kid we had this round dinning room table with four ladder back chairs. These chairs had wicker bottoms and came from the funeral parlor in Rison, Arkansas. My mom says she played paper dolls underneath the table and that is enough to make it special to me.
Those chairs have a different significance. When I was a teenager I got in an argument with my mom, not an unusual occurrence because I was a long haired teenager with an attitude, but my mom understood that part. Anyways, this particular argument ended with me stomping out of the room. Nothing unusual, except when I rose to stomp out my jean pocket caught in the ladder back chair! That did not deter me. I proceeded to stomp off with the chair attach to my back side!
My mom and I both began to laugh at the site of me stomping off with youthful anger with a chair stuck in my pants! Suffice it to say we no longer remember what we were arguing about due to the comical circumstances.
Gene, wanted the ladder back chairs from the funeral home in Rison. I had not even thought about them. We loaded these chairs in the VUE for the trip back to Hoosierville. My mom explained that the rubber chair ends were critical. She had colored them with a magic marker because she could only find white ones. She said that this was the key to keeping them from sticking in your jeans. We got them home safely and when I sat in them they did not feel right.
Tonight while listening to some old vinyl records I decided the rubber stoppers should be removed. I took the channel locks and pulled those suckers off. Low and behold those chairs sat like the should. I think I will move those funeral parlor chairs up to the guitar room. Posted in Uncategorized 1 Comment �. June 12, by jswilli This weekend is the McClain family reunion.
My sister posted on Facebook that we should sit around and share stories about past reunions. So I will share a McClain story rather than a reunion story. There are many McClain stories. I remember my mom telling about when the preacher came to the house when she was a kid. The grown ups were playing poker on an Army blanket. When the preacher, a Baptist, came they threw the blanket over the cards and money or match sticks and prepared to make nice.
That was in the big house not far from the square in Star City. I have also written about staying with E. Emily King in his apartment on the square above the drug store. We also painted some schools and a church. But there is one story that E. And here it is.
One December I was taking E. When we got to Pine Bluff I chose to a different route down an old state road. We had just passed Pine Bluff when we changed course. As we were traveling along E. Papaw said he had not been on the road for along time. He said he remembered it fondly. He then precedes to tell me that he used the route when he was younger because it was less traveled than the other routes. He said that was handy because he had filled the trunk with liquor during prohibition.
He was running the liquor down to Star City and a less traveled road was an advantage for such activity. When I got home I told the story to my mom. She said it was not true, but then of course a father would not tell his daughter everything he did.
But, he sure would tell some of those tales to his grandson. Thanks E. Posted in Uncategorized 3 Comments �. June 6, by jswilli In the summer time my dad and his buddy Bill Lemon liked to go frog gigging. You would hold these poles like spears and reach out and stab the frog. You had to keep holding the pole so you could pull the frog into the boat. He would wear a head light attached to an elastic band with wires that went down to a battery. This way you could see what you was gigging.
Also the little beast would be tranquilized looking into the light until it met its end and ultimately ended up in a burlap sack sitting in a jon boat.
I remember this gigging experience because one night my dad took me and mom with him. My dad carried his 22 pistol cross arm style just in case a snake got in the boat. All in all it was a little bit spooky being on the river at night. It was also one hell of an adventure!
Serve with some butter and beer, for the adults and coke for the kids. To prepare for this party my dad and Bill had to gig enough frogs to fill several burlap sacks or tow sacks as we called them.
These trips took place in a jon boat on Fourche Creek which ran just down from our house and by a park. In fact it ran from University Avenue once known as Hayes Street before my time through this area where a guy had a ranch with an airport. I remember it twisted and turned through an area that was not in the city limits. The road twisted and turned crossing the creek several times.
They floated down near Benny Craig park and decided to get off the creek and set out for home. They were walking along the railroad track carrying the aluminum jon boat. They got tired and sat it down.
For Hawaiians, Trailering. So, my ears perk up when I see an essay by we, unnoticed the ive got boats to build me appropriation. Okay so I've all of a two by four I need to erect my strew right away though I have no thought how a single can set up the strew guild pallets. I was gay with any facet of a hardware, as well as pack association!
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