The Locust tree behind me is an old friend. He is in my Aunt Golda's front yard in Monterey. I used to play around him,catch lightning bugs, and be a boy. This tree is 60 or 70 years old. It was a large fullgrown tree when I came down from Wisconsin in the 60s. It's funny I seem to remember him being bigger.
I have so many memories of this place going all the way back to the 1950s. It's summertime around 57..58. The house was made totally of rough sawn planks, with a tin roof. A front porch ran the length of the house, which was t shaped. there was a small porch on either side of the back, a well on the one off the kitchen supplied the water. There were two fireplaces. One in each of the front rooms from a central chimney, and a wood fired cookstove complete with oven in the kitchen. All the light was from coal oil lanterns, no electricity, and the bathroom was an outhouse a good 15 yards from the back door. This was before all the big growth trees had been taken, and huge trees were everywhere. There were gardens, and cornfields. A large chicken yard, and a hoglot down by the barn. There were no streetlights for miles. When it got dark, it got very dark. I remember it feeling primative, and somehow menacing. We didn't go outside much us city folk.
I'll never forget the wagons, and the rolling store. Remember even though I was young, I came there from the second largest city in America at the time (probably the world) I was used to busses, cabs, traffic, lights, and noise. This was like going back in time. It was commen to see Men in overalls on the gravel road riding on wagons pulled by mule teams. Some of the "modern" wagons had rubber tires like cars. And the rolling country store. It was an old converted school bus. He came up the road making his rounds once a week. He had two large barrels on the back full of diesel, and coal oil. He carried everything! If he didn't have it he would order it, and bring it to you when it came in. He had meal, flour,sugar, canned goods,and all manner of food items. He carried buttons, thread, cloth, tools of all kinds, and he always had free candy to give kids. (probably why I remember him so vividly) I remember waiting by the mailbox for him. I remember how green it was. There were deep woods behind the house, and across the road, just beyond the railroad tracks. The dust from the gravel road would paint the weeds white on both sides of the road, and all the cars too.
God I love this place!! This little city, This county, This sweet, proud wonderfull state. I was listening to"Rocky Top" a few days ago, and it came over me like a flood. My eyes burning with tears, I began to think back to happier times. Running barefoot, and care free through the deep woods, and creeks. Mule teams. Gravel roads, and men in grey felt hats, and over-alls. The joy of a hot summer Tennessee day, and the sweet smell of honeysuckle.
The older counrty folk, with their accents, that bring tears of joy to my eyes." Howdy y'all." "Yuns cummin over later?" (OOh! I miss them so! ) "I get up of a mornin" "They...I'll say till my time!" ( Weeping openly now... ) Men, and women alike , if they liked you, would call you "honey" nothing romantic or sexual. Just sweet decent human beings from God's country. Patient, long suffering, with a love of God, and country. Close to the earth, and in tune with it. Hard as the rocks they dragged out of their fields. Tennessee has sent men to defend this country from the Alamo to the streets of Bagdad.
Tennessee nurtured men that helped define, and defend this nation. It sent men to the white house. Built the lions share of this country's nuclear weapons, and right here in Cookeville, at tennessee Tech. Early engineering on the lifting body concept, paved the way for the space shuttle. So if you have any Hillbilly jokes don't tell them to me ok? There isn't a place on this earth I'd rather be than right here. I have a small piece of ground, surrounded by kinfolk, and less than a hundred yards from my mother's ancesteral home, where I will lay my burdons down. I hope there's honeysuckle.....
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