Saturday, November 01, 2008

Back Then When We Were Young..


Many years ago I was in the Boy Scouts. I was in troop 132, sponsored by St. Joseph's Catholic Churches.

The above, the County Extension Office building was on the corner of Waddell and Lawrence Streets in Marietta. The county extension mostly catered to local farmers - to make sure they were using the right kind of soil, rotating their crops, feeding their livestock wholesome vittles, and in general rural kind of advice. Cobb County was mostly a rural county with farms.

In the basement of the County Extension Office was one of the many places Troop met, but we got kicked out of there too. Our problem scout, Jimmy Pat Presley, one night at a meeting went upstairs to the offices and opened drawers, made a mess out of the paper work and did some vandalizing. That was Jimmy for you.... always a busy mind.

After our Scout meeting was adjourned we left the building and walked down Waddell Street to Roswell and Washington Avenue. We then normally walked down Roswell Street to the Greyhound Bus Station and went into the grill there and ordered something to eat and played the pin-ball machines. Inside the little grill I always remembered it being hot and smelled of fried grease.

The bus station itself had a white section and a "colored" section. Out on the walk where people loaded onto buses was a photo booth and a machine to stamp your name onto a round metal thing - a good I.D. like a dog-tag both was a quarter.

One time there on at the photo-booth Jimmy Pat used a bunch of quarters taking pictures of his genitals... then, put them on the various bulletin boards at schools, churches, and where ever, saying, "Want some of this?"

Jimmy got caught again and the juvenile judge punished him and his parents by requiring he seek help - sessions with a psychologist or a psychiatrist.

Jimmy was a mess wasn't he?

After we left the bus station we would walk up to Alexander Street or take a short cut through the Clay Homes and get on Alexander Street, walk down to Phillips Drive, where Jimmy Pat lived, then walk the remaining 4 or 5 blocks home in the dark.

Then, walking alone at night - darting from shadow to shadow you hear every sound - car sounds blocks away, bird sounds, owls hooting - no wait, that was not an owl, that was Jimmy Pat laughing.

Jimmy Pat dropped dead a few years ago. He bent over to pick up his dog and collapsed dead... no warning, no coughing, no nothing - just dropped dead. He left a wife and a grown daughter.

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2 Comments:

Blogger kenju said...

He sounds like some of the boys I used to know.....LOL

That's a good way to die, I think.

4:18 AM  
Blogger ET said...

Judy,
I think so too. No fretting, no sickness building up - just now you are, now you are not.

5:03 AM  

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