I Remember.......

#453
#453
When I read Suttree, some passages remind me of some of the places and things we did when I was young. One was fishing on the river around where Island Home Airport is now. We'd all take our cane poles just lookin' for some dinner. Mom went with us one time, her first time, and caught a fish right off. She was so excited and scared that she didn't know what to do next.
 
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#456
#456
When we go out crappie fishing at night, I usually don't get to fish much if the fish are biting good. I spend most of my time taking fish off and baiting hooks. I enjoy seeing the kids/ladies catch them about as much as catching them myself anyway.
 
#457
#457
I remember visiting my Grandmother in rural Southwest Virginia and walking to the country store where they would put our items into a poke.
 
#462
#462
I can remember peddlers with horse drawn wagons in rural middle tn. Dekalb county circa 1965 to 68. He had cast iron pots and pans, candy, chickens, watermelons and eggs. Case knives, tobacco spikes and hatchets. Usually with a jackass, cow or old mule in tow. A veritable country store on wheels. 3 and 5 gallon wooden kegs of Jack daniels for under 10 bucks a lot of money in that area in that time. Heck you could order about anything he even carried a sears catalog. Some of the oldest collectibles I have came of that old wagon.
If time was a ride. This is one point I might just have said I'm getting off, see ya.
 
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#464
#464
We use to have an old guy who would come by (in a pick-up truck) and buy scrap iron and all sorts of metals that we would find on the farm...he would stop bout once a month..

We use to get extra spending money that way...no traveling store that I remember
 
#468
#468
Slydell said:
We never had anything like that but I would have loved it.
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Thats where i spent my summers with my moms mom when I was young. And thats the way it was there. It was awesome.

Their is actually a book out about that area and TVA commin in and up untill this time. The author remembers my mom, uncles and grandfather and mentions them often. You want to read a novel with great history about good people and life of this era check out "The Path I trod".

Admittedly self published (i think) but it's still got great history, good stories about half court basketball. it paints a great picture of the era. hell I never finshed it. the first half of it was great.
 
#470
#470
Slydell said:
We kept some of that stuff in the smoke house.
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My Grandmother had a smoke house but she was too old to raise hogs. Free range chickens were must less trouble.

She would go out into the backyard with a modified coat hanger, grab a chicken and chop off its head.
 
#472
#472
Abe Hoffman said:
My Grandmother had a smoke house but she was too old to raise hogs. Free range chickens were must less trouble.

She would go out into the backyard with a modified coat hanger, grab a chicken and chop off its head.
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That's the way we had dinner. You could watch Mom out the back just walk up, grab a chicken and wring it's neck. Then, she'd throw it on the choppin' block and cut off the head. A few hours later, fried chicken. My great aunts that used to keep my brother and me in the early 50s while Mom and Dad worked had a smoke house that we could play in. That smoke house still exists and every time I pass by the place, I want to stop and ask if I can just walk inside and look and smell one more time. My great aunts never had electricity or running water. The people who own the house now have kept the outward appearance just as I remember it. They've added a detached garage but everything else looks the same. Well, except for the wires from the poles running to the house.
 
#474
#474
My aunt used to do the wring the neck, chop off the head, chicken thing. Sly is no making this up.
 
#475
#475
I remember when my Dad put in cedar post and barb wire fence on the piece of land he owned in the country off Island Home Pike. That was well over a half century ago. Closer to 64 years, probably. I drove by there today and the post are still in place with the rusted barb wire. Recognized the exact post I jumped from and hung my blue jeans on the barb wire. Dad had to come rescue me because I was hanging about two feet off the ground.
 
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