Wha??

Today in the doctor’s office the lady doctor came in with a lot of Christmas Decorations to decorate the office. The receptionist asked, loudly, “Why are you doing this? You are Jewish!”

Grand Champions (old) SMOKE HOUSE (NEW)

Because of a being in the wrong lane we were whooshed on Johnson Ferry Road going north towards Shallowford Road. Since we were headed that way anyway we decided to eat at Grand Champion BBQ. We haven’t been there in a long time. Grand Champion was owned by a group of people, all who schooled to be Southern BBQ experts. They all trained under the king of Marietta BBQ Sam Huff and worked for him too before going out on their own. When we first went Grand Champion we talked to one of the owner’s wives. She was friendly and knew the BBQ business. The first time I was there I ordered ribs and was impressed. I think the second time I order a brisket sandwich and was impressed it need no sauce. Anyway, back to the present. We drove into the shopping center Grand Champion was at and it isn’t there. SMOKEHOUSE BBQ was in its place. We went in anyway, to compare their BBQ. Inside nothing had changed. Cecile was standing behind the counter, like she always has been for the past ten years or so. They bought the place out from their partners. Same BBQ. Their ex-partners, Cecile said, still on several Grand Champions sprawled over Cobb County and Atlanta. For my first two stories on Grand Champion go to my blog Chicken-fat.com and go to the search blank on the left side of the banner header and type Grand Champion BBQ.

Sludge in your Face!

After dealing with two septic tank repair companies in the past few days I learned what the word SLUDGE is. I was thinking about nameing a new blog I am working on DINGLEBERRY but am about to changed my mind and make it SLUDGE. It seems to have a heavier meaning.

Stan Lee and Friends

R.I.P. Stan Lee Some pictures of my cousin Patti Hunter Bagley and her husband \Mark rubbing elbows with Stan Lee. Actually, Stan was Mark’s boss. Mark is one of the artists of the comicbook SPIDERMAN. When I think of Stan Lee I think of many years ago he gave a starving artist (cartoonist), my hero, Harvey Kurtzman a job writing the HEY LOOK! Series fillers for MARVEL Comics. Harvey went on to create MAD Comicbooks and MAD Magazine.

The Chihuahua and Me Show

I walked up our driveway a short time ago to check on our mail. About halfway the little Chihuahua came running from across streer fiercely barking like he always does. Usually he gets at my feet and bark and growl and dares me to take my next I step. I take the next step and he jumps out of the way and has more reason to bark. Today I barked back. I spread my arms wide like a hawk ready to pounce and let out a deep serious huffy grown. The Chihuahua took off running but looking behind at me, still barking. Then I heard the daughter (age about 45) scream at the dog. I couldn’t understand what the daughter said. Her voice was coming from the balcony. Because of the sun, I could not see her or how many people were there. She rarely goes out on the balcony unless she has friends over. Damn. I hate putting on a show and not knowing it.

What a Humane Invention!

I stumbled onto this while reading BATHROOM READER 2. It is just a short paragraph or a long sentence. But it says a lot: Bicycle pedal reflectors were invented by Anton Loibi (1900-1979), who happened to work as Hitler’s driver! Humane? I did a little skimming Google research and found that Anton was in the bike selling business. And the Nazis would not ride bikes at night. In the dark, somebody could get hut. So Anto invented the refleftors to sell his bikes to the Nazis. It did not take long to rub elnows with the right people and ended up at Hitler's driver. What happened to him after the war is a mystery.

Our Grandson Quoted

“You got a sticker!” Dickens said when he saw 6-year-old Benjamin Hunter, whose parents had gone to the polls that day and secured an “I Voted” sticker for the youngster. Atlanta City Councilwoman Carla Smith watches as mayoral candidate Andre Dickens speak to a group of constituents at Grant Park on Saturday, November 20, 2021. Miguel Martinez for The Atlanta Journal-Constitution Caption Credit: Miguel Martinez for The Atlanta Journal-Constitution The 6-year-old then put on his reporter hat: “What are you gonna do when you become mayor?” he asked Dickens. The councilman mentioned the gazebo that recently burned down in the park: “We’re gonna build that back up and you can have a place to play.”

SUNDAY FUNNIES!! THE SPIRIT

Have you ever heard of THE SPIRIT? He was a super hero, sort of. He was a detective that was supposed to be dead. Being dead, he could slip around unnoticed and solve crimes. THE SPIRIT comic strip was a big thing in the early 50s AND 60S. I like the reallistic illustration of city living.

PROBLEM SOLVED!

We got our Christmas Tree up and only had one problem. The lights. We got the gadget out that works the lights. The gadget is hooked up to the lights on one side and the other side is plugged in to the electrical wall plug-in. And it comes in with a handheld remote control. After we got the light control thing hooked up with the remote we turned it on. The Christmas Tree lights did not come on. I opened the remote and there is 9 volt battery. Aha! We have used this remote control for probably close to 10, maybe more, Christmas seasons. The 9 volt probably just lived its course. While at Krogerfs we bought a 9 volt battery. When we got home I couldn't wait to replace the 9 volt battery. I did and it still did not work. I reviewed my 9 volt connections and even unplugged and replugged it. It still did not work. Did we bought a dead battery? I think I would hate to return that battger because I was so eager to put the battery in, I tore the cardboard package to pieces. I decided to check all the connections again, even the Christmas Tree connections. Everything looked like they were connected correctly. Then I followed the electrical source to the wall. The 5 or 6 plug in was plugged into the wall. However, the tree lights were plugged into one socket and thing that controlled the lights was plugged into another. PROBLEM SOLVED!

The Cane or the Tiger

I probably mentioned this before, that I noticed that old men love to flirt with nurses and receptionists. Today in the doctors office waiting room there was an elderly man there that had a charming dignified wit. When he was leaving the doctor came out from the back room and told him he forgot his walking cane. The doctor jokingly told him that was nice cane, and he would like to have it himself, “What would you take for it?” The old geezer thoughtfully said, “I am leaving with either my cane or HER.” Pointing at the receptionist. I couldn’t see a smile. The receptionist said, “Give him the cane now!” (laughing).

Wrong Stall

A couple years ago at the AMC Theater near Cobb Center I walked into the Ladies Restroom. When I walked around the corner unzipping my pants and saw a row of stalls but no urinals then I realized I had chosen the wrong restroom. About that time a woman stepped out of a stall smoothing her pants, which furter confirmed my suspicion. Then today, we took my sister to the same AMC Theater for her birthday and this time I went to the right restroom and were standing up at the urninal doing my business, and maybe I should have been standing closer when a young daddy brought his little 3 or 4 daughter in and rushed her into a stall. Karma or payback is not only hell, it is also embarrassing.

Murphy's and the Long Living Solo Rockett

Watching the Macy's Thanksgiving Parade and the Radio City Rockettes brought back memories. When I was in the Navy stationed 60 miles away in Lakehurst, New Jersey, we saw the Rockettes five or six times in a two year period. When I saw them then I was amazed how disciplined and unified and coordinated they were. But most of all I was amazed at all those long bare legs. I think they were the warm up team for the latest blockbuster movie at Radio City Music Hall. But I am sure a lot of people came just to see them. Seeing those young chickadees bursting with energy in their choreograph numbers daily you might wonder what they will do when they get old; when age catches up with them. Well, I know about one. I don't know her name. My friend Don Lash, on his ramblings at seaside bars north of Seaside Heights, NJ, found an enjoyable neighborhood bar, Murphy's. In Murphy's Bar Don got to know several of the regulars. One was a little drunk they called Barney the Paper Boy. Barney was about 80 years old and had a paper route. He drunk a lots and got sentimental and cried in his beer a lot. Another regular was an aged retired Rockette. She was a talker. That was in 1963, 52 years ago. I doubt if Ms Rockette is still hanging out at Muphy's.

Father Was a Brother

Brother Was a Father In the 1980s Rocky was in the accelerated Target group at his school. It was Halley’s Comet time. I don’t remember how it all started, but in the Target kids parents’ association it was decided to take the kids to someplace way out in the country where the sky would be clear and not influenced by the glare of city lights to see Haley's Comet. Anna took on the responsibility of finding a such a place, that would welcome children in the middle of the night. She came to the conclusion that a certain Catholic monastery southeast of Atlanta about 40 or 50 miles would be the ideal place. We have been to this monastery before. It is way out in the country. The monks there made their own food and made their own bread which was available for sale. Along with other stuff you would expect monks to deal with, such as honey, candles and I don’t know what else. I do remember they had peacocks wandering around the grounds. Anna called the monastery and spoke to a Brother Clarence Biggers. Brother Biggers was very enthused over a bunch of school kids coming in the middle of the night to see Haley’s Comet and said he would be delighted to be their guide. He gave us directions. Then one evening we met someplace and all five or six cars drove in a caravan the long drive to the Monastery. I forgot the details of the directions but we found ourselves out on a lonely road in the middle of the night with no sign of civilization and were thinking maybe we took the wrong turn or something. Should we turn back and find a phone and call him? This was before cell phones. Then we came upon a land mark he described and knew we were there on the right track. Then a tall figure in a hood stepped out of the shadows with his arms spread out. I remember the tall figure wearing a hooded robe. That was a shocking scary sight! I remember he was wearing a white robethat was blowing in the wind. Anna remembers another color robe – whichever. It was Brother Biggers. He motioned for us to get out and we did. We, parents and kids, gathered around him and he told us he used to be a priest at Saint Joseph’s in Marietta. He went around and asked our names. When I told him my last name he asked me was I related to the late Dick Hunter. I said he was my uncle – my father’s brother. I remembered him – he did my uncle’s funeral when he died. He asked me how his wife was doing and also wanted to know how all twelve of their children were doing. They are doing fine. He said he thought a lot of that family. He gave us and the kids a very educated guide of the constellations above us in the clear dark sky. He of course pointed out Haley’s Comet and told some trivia history about it such as Samuel Clemens (Mark Twain) was born during a Haley's Comet visit and died on its return visit some 80 plus years later. also what the people of ancient times thought of it and on each constellation he would tell the Greek mythology tale about it. He did a very good job in educating the kids and us on the sky that night. We listened in awe. Unfortunately, then, as now, I have a low retention level – so, what I heard, although very interesting, went in one ear and out the other. After it was over he asked us if we would like to go to the main building and have some hot chocolate. Sure! Everyone said. We went upstairs in the back of the building and Brother Biggers took us into a kitchen like area with tables. He boiled water and had the instant cocoa and we sat around and talked to him and he told us more about the Monastery. He said all the monks had to work to earn their daily bread, so to speak. He said anybody, regardless of their religion or beliefs can come to the monastery and stay a while just to get away from it all and contemplate their belly buttons – or whatever. A big bell clanged and Brother Biggers said it was time for the first mass of the day for the Monks, would we like to see it? Sure! We walked down a hall and quietly opened a door and we found ourselves in a balcony overlooking a congregation of Monks. Before entering he told us we needed to very quiet. The Monk congregation lifted their spirits by chanting. I don’t think there was a sermon. Sadly, one Monk was slumped over in a wheel chair alone down an aisle between the pews and appeared to be very weak, sick, or just out of it. Being disabled is probably not an excuse to skip mass. He was a very intelligent knowlegable docent of Haley's Comet and the mythology tales in the night skies. We thanked him and we arrived back in Marietta about daylight. Brother Biggers continued. Years passed and one night on the local news a lady was being interviewed because she was suing the Catholic Church. She said Father Clarence Biggers molested her when she was young and attending Saint Joseph’s School. It was further pointed out that when several parents complained about Father Biggers molesting their children and he suddenly had a calling to be a monk at the Monastery we went to. Then, about a week later in the newspaper one of my female cousin came forth and said Father Biggers did some things to her too. But Brother Biggers knew his stars! You cannot take that away from him. According to the recent news, Father/Brother Biggers is now deceased.

Thanksgiving Story

Copied and pasted from my Blog November 2013: My 2nd Thanksgiving Story, which is more memorable: Back in the early late 1950s or early 1960s a group of friends and I decided to go hunting early on Thanksgiving morning. Larry Southern knew of a place in White, Georgia, near Cartersville of endless dirt roads. Our plan was to take turns with two of us riding on the fenders and when we saw a rabbit shoot it. We have been out on dirt country roads countless times and rabbits would run out in front of us. Maybe we arrived at the destination about 2am, and proceeded to ride the dirt roads, taking turns at fender duty. We did not see any rabbits. We gave up and came upon an abandoned country unpainted shack. We built a fire in the fireplace and sat around and talked about life and gossiped. We were not getting much accomplished , we decided to drive back to Marietta. Out on the highway going to Cartersville we had a flat tire. We were driving one of Larry's father's old junk car somebody traded him for a better car (hopefully). The old heap had no spare. We sat in the car and talked and gossiped some more. Daylight began to slowly shift in. When it got light enough that we could see some things around us we saw we were parked across the road from a house. Beside the house was a pasture and behind the house was a little hill. Near the top of the hill was an outhouse, maybe 50 feet from the house. Larry said he was going to use that outhouse. We knew he meant it. He loved to use outhouses. Monty and Johnny tried to talk him out of it. He wouldn't listen their reasoning. He got out of the car and walked beside the house and up the hill. Something you need to know about Larry: He was then a shy person. He would do sneaky things but hoped he would never get caught, it was too embarrassing. When he did get caught he scratched his forehead so his hand would cover his face. We have seen him scratch his forehead more than once. Larry went into the outhouse and shut the door. The rest of us sat there and talked and speculated what would happen if he got caught. Then I saw a little grey headed matron looking lady walking up hill with some newspapers in her hands. I told my friends and we were having laughing fits watching each step the lady took. She opened the door and dropped her papers.. Out bounded Larry trying to pull up his pants with one hand and scratching his forehead with the other. He ran down the hill, jumped in the car , started the engine and we rode off, flat or no flat. We got down the road a very shot distance but around a bend and out of sight and gave out of gas. This time we were in front of a service station that sold tires and gas. We started to pool our money to discovered that every one of us was broke. Somehow I got elected to go to Larry's house, or his parents' house, get his car and his money was hidden in his car, and drive back to White, Georgia. I hitchhiked back to Marietta. I lived with my family close to the 41 Hwy, or 4-Lane, as we called it locally. My last ride carried me as close as two blocks for our house. I walked into our house. My family was having Thanksgiving dinner. Invited down from Chattanooga was my mother's brother Tom Petty and his wife Mary Jo. I hurriedly ate, standing up - I was on a mission. I took my car and drove over to Larry's house and got his car. Luckily, his parents were not there - I would look awful guilty trying to explain everything to them. I left my car at Larry's parents and took Larry's car and drove back up the 4-Lane to Cartersville. That was before the I-75 was built. Right after the first street turning off into Cartersville, I gave out of gas. Back then we ran out of gas a lot. We did that a lot and just dealt with it as it happen. It was also a way of life to park on hills with the front aiming down in case we had to push our car off. I was out of gas with the mission incomplete. The only thing I knew to do was to start hitchhiking towards White and worry about Larry's car later. After all, they need the money to get gas and a tire for the heap. As I was walking backwards on the northbound lane of the US41 with my thumb out I looked over to the southbound lane and there was my four friends walking backwards with their thumbs out. I hollered and we joined up. I do not remember the details of what happened next. We got Larry's car, put gas in it and went back to white and had to walk to the owner of the service station's house to get him to open on Thanksgiving to sell us a tire and some gas. I think he sold us a used tire for $5 and sold us gas.

Marietta, Georgia Naional Guard, Co M, 122nd Inf

hrowback Thursday: Veterans' Day was almost a week ago. Maybe I can squeeze in one more Veterans' picture. This is the Marietta Georgia National Guard unit that my Daddy was in. It was taken in 1936 at Camp Foster, Florida. Also some of Daddy's brothers, maybe most, were in the same unit. Hand printed on the bottom of the picture is: Co. M, 122nd Inf, Ga. National Guard at Camp Foster, Fl., Aug 9th to 22nd 1936. I recognize Daddy (Edwin Tyson "Ed" Hunter, Sr.) being the 2nd man from the left on the 2nd row. Also I recognize his brother (John) Stanley Hunter in the front center row with a dark shirt. Stanley turned 16 years of age just about a month and a half before the picture is dated. ON THIS DAY

Today is National Sardine Day

That reminds me of the summer I turned 16 I was a go-for for a construction company. They were laying a waterline in Kennesaw. Many days we ate our lunch on the loading platform of the train depot with our legs dangling. I remember my favorite dish then was sardines, second only to vienna sausages. Soda crackers with both, of course.

GI GENE

There is a restaurant in Woodstock named Sempe Fi Bar and Grille. It was founded by two retired Marines and they still run it. They have a lot of Marine remembrances on the walls. They also have good hamburgers. They celebrated the 244th US Marine Corps Birthday, Sunday, November 10th, 2019. I think a certain braggart was there. Apparently, there is a braggart that shows up there occasionally that brags about some combats he wasn’t really part of. They call this “Stolen Valor” and it is a Federal crime. They take it very seriously. Stolen Valor reminds me the movie MY DOG SKIP and a young man named Gene in Marietta in the 1940s. He was home from the war. He drover a motor scooter around town. On the edge of the Clay Homes, behind the newly Greyhound Station was a new school for vets home from the war and needed to learn a trade. there a lot in the parking lot sitting on his scooter telling his heroic stories. We little kids thought he was a war hero, like "Why did they need all those other soldiers for?" I don't know if Gene attended classes there or not. I don't know if Gene made it all up the tales or heard them from other soldiers. Gene was shell shocked, as they call it back then. The reason Gene was shell shocked was he faced combat conditions. The enemy was trying to kill him and his fellow soldiers. It got the best of him.

Mitten's

Because of a irritated sciatic nerve I need to do a good walk almost every day. The days I don’t get around to it are the days I wish I had. But now cold weather is flirting with my walks made me realize I need a pair of gloves to keep the cold out. I knew that was coming but kept putting it off. For one thing, each winter I go through two or three pairs during the season, I mostly blame that on just misplacing them. Sometimes they show up months or years later and sometimes they don’t. Expensive. So, I realized sometimes the Dollar Stores have something like that for a buck so I dropped by one today and bought a package of 2 pairs for $1. That is 25 cents per glove! I thought before I walked in the Dollar Store “What if the only pair og gloves they have for a dollar are boing gloves?” Just kidding myself. That’s all.

58 YEARS AGO YESTERDAY!

TIME STOOD STILL.

Birthday Surprise!

It is Steve Tolbert's birthday. Yesterday at the hospital was a man who from behind looked just like Steve. He was walking in front of me, hurriedly, for the opened elevator door. As a joke on Steve I was going to yank the back of his shirttail out.....that would catch him by surprised! As I got closer and about to grab to yank his head turned slightly and I saw it wasn't Steve after all. Whew! That was close! The man almost got a surprised that he could talk about the rest of the day.

Celestee Headee

My Claim to Fame: This One morning on THE TODAY SHOW one of the guests was Celeste Headlee. Celeste has made a name for herself as a journalist, author, speaker, and musician. She wrote a book on how to have meaningful conversations titled WE NEED TO TALK. She was also at one time an announcer on NPR and lived in East Cobb. That is where I got to meet her, at Sweat Mountain Dog Park, in East Cobb. I think she has moved on now. Either that or she changed dog parks to get away from in her face my camera.

Oscar Ray Hunter and the Panama Canal

On this date, November 17, 1913, the Panama Canal opened. My grandfather's brother Oscar Ray Hunter (1884-1966) was an employee of the outfit that built it. He was there. When you think of the men who built the Panama Canal you think of the real man's man on the cover a man's magazine, like Indiana Jones, chopping his way through the Panama jungle with wild animals and humans as his adversary and digging the long canal fighting malaria the whole time. But remember, Oscar's last name was Hunter. He knew better. He was a bookkeeper. Probably the closest he got to malaria was marrying a nurse there, Charlotte Georgia McCabe.

This was the Cobb Country Extension Building on the corner of Waddell and Lawrence Streets. It was designed to have a staff of agents giving farmers a helping hand. Cobb County was mostly a rural farming community. The agents would visit farms and test their soil and suggest what they should grow or what other chemicals should be added and other details to improve farming. That was daytime stuff. At night it rented or loaned space to various civic organizations in the basement. I know because our Boy Scout Troop 132, sponsored by Saint Joseph's Catholic Church met there. When I first joined the troop me met in the Clay Homes meeting building, but in a short time we were in the basement of the County Extension Service. We were there for only a short time too until we got kicked out. I think some of us were too mischievous to be turned loose in an office building after hours with unlocked office doors. Our group patrol in the basement of the Cobb Extension Blg

SUNDAY FUNNIES!! from MAD #12. a snicker at the movie FROM HERE TO ETERNITY

Art by B. Kristein. He had regularly illustrated for the EC horror and war comics Doing MAD stuff is rare. He only did MAD stories twice. Story is llikely by editor Harvey Kurtzman. Be sure and click each panel to make them readable and hopefully undersandable

Me, the Learnid

Back in school I when I did research for a report, I retained that information for life, sometimes. At work one time, before retirement, the subject of Llamas came up. I said by reflex, “Llamas? They are from Peru and other points in South America. If you are mean to them they will spit a tobacco like stuff in your face.” Someone said, “Where do you get that shit? You are always coming up with something weird.” I said, “Oh just a report in the 5th grade I did on Llamas’ Oh did you know their name starts with two Ls?” Should you capitalize both Ls? I do not know, if I knew, I forgot.

What's Love Got To Do With ME?

I told you about the time some friends and I, the first week I was out of the Navy, went to the Royal Peacock in Atlanta to see Ike and Tina Turner sing and shake their bodies. Tina was dazzling. A few years later, now married, Anna and I, and her office companion Pat and her husband Allen went to the Atlanta Jazz Festival at the Braves Stadium in Atlanta. Ike and Tina Turner was billed to be one of the groups performing. When it came their time they hit the stage singing and rocking. I did what any fool would do, jump up and try to get a good picture of Tina. When I jumped up I completely forgot about the beer in my lap. The beer, let loose to gravity, toppled onto the finely groomed hair of the lady sitting in front of us. Her husband or boyfriend angry jumped up and reached for his pocket. Allen, with a look of hatred, reached for his pocket. Smarter minds prevailed. Anna and Pat jumped in with towels and napkins and started cleaning the lady and gibing her money for dry cleaning and a little “extra” for their discomfort. They found that an acceptable arrangement. Today channel surfing we came across the biography of Tina Turner, WHAT’S LOVE GOT TO DO WITH IT? Which reminded me of the night I was almost cleaned like a catfish.

Doorman

I think I missed my calling. Again, today I found myself being the doorman of almost everybody coming and going out of a restaurant we went to. We had lunch at Jim and Nick's on South Cobb Drive, near the NW Connector. When we paid our bill Anna went to the restroom. It was raining so we agreed that I would stand just outside of entrance door, on their little porch , where there was a roof, and wait for Anna with her umbrella. As soon as I was out I heard a noise at the door. There was a lady putting down her left over food bags and to open the door. I saw no reason she should do that when I was just standing there, so I opened the door for her. She thanked me.. As soon as she walked away here came another lady holding a baby. I couldn't let her put her baby down just to open the door. I held it opened for her and got a warm appreciative thanks. Similar situations happened 4 or 5 times before Anna got there. One person did not thank or acknowledged me at all, or I was invisible and that person probably thought the door automatically swung opened when it sensed someone coming.

Mecajah Clark Dyer

This is a distant relative through the Hunters of Union County, Ga Ken Akins Noc5vetifmhf6b8pemr n3si7, 22014e0d · Clark & Morena Dyer circa 1880's Micajah Clark Dyer was an inventor and patented a flying machine 12 years befor the Wright Brothers maiden flight. The incredible thing is he tested and flew his flying machine in the isolated mountains of Choestoe in Union County. Also there is an excellent book FLYING OFF RATTLESNAKE MOUNTAIN by Sylvia Dyer Turnage about Micajah Dyer and his flying machine. On his toombstone at Old Choesoe Ceemetery is a copy of his patient:

Darlene

This is Darlene and me at Anna's retirement party a few years back. Anna and Darlene were co-workers. Darlene and I used to ride together going to Kennesaw Junior College at night. By her expression it looks like I am reminding her of the time we skipped class and went to her apartment complex's beer party and an ex-nun drunk us under the table.

Costco Free Samples

We went to Costco the other day. I did like I always do when I first enter Costco: case the free samples. I check out each sampler server to see if they are new. If they are new they are usually nervous and a pushover for allowing you to return for seconds or thirds. Some I recognized as the ones that go back the book and gives you a sales spill on the way you prepare it and the nutrician - be patient and politely listen, your food from the previous stands need to digest anyway. After a while you learn which ones don’t are how many samples you get as long as you act impressed with what they save about themselves. And there are some that actually resent you trying to get more samples and remind you to quit freeloading and buy the product. Which reminds of a little hyper server that would remind you in a second that it is your second visit without picking up a package of whatever. This lady was very religious who visited people in nursing homes on their death beds to pray fly them on her off day. I know I saw her. Also one time The Marietta Journal did an article on her a couple years. It surprised me of her age in the article. It said she was in her high 80s and I thought she was in her low 70s. Today I remembered I haven’t seen her lately and I asked a server that has been with them for years where was the little hyper lady. She told me the lady died last year. I told her I was sorry to hear that as I reached over and got a second free sample off her tray.

Helo Ride for Kicks

Sunday Mornings we usually watch the Sunday mornings news programs. First, NBC and then CBS. I think it was NBC that had a piece about Sophia Loren making a movie in her 80s and her son is the director. Anna and I went to the Radio City Music Hall about 1970 and saw the Rocketts and then the movie SUNFLOWER. Before the movie Sophia and her director husband was asked to stand up. She waved. Then on the CBS News they had Steve Martin on. It was mostly about Steve teaming up with a NEW YORKER cartoonist for a project. We saw Steve Martin in person at the Southern Music Hall, on Piedmont Avenue AT Broadview Plaza in Atlanta, about the same time period as our NYC trip.. Steve Martin, then, was a brunette, but he had his banjo and arrow through the head prop. I don’t remember if we knew of him before we saw him in person or not. He kept the crowd roaring with laughter. At the end of the CBS Sunday News they always have a nature scene of a bird feeding her young or something. This morning it was butterflies fluttering around the flowers at Cape May, New Jersey. Cape May! When I was stationed in New Jersey with a helicopter squadron (HU-4) our pilots were doing training flew over Cape May often, especially flying the nudist colony at Cape May. Our division officer had to log in I think 50 hours of flight training a month. He was always bragging about Cape May and I asked him to let me go on one of his missions. So, I went up with him one day in a Bell Helicopter. Hot Diggy! We were going over a nudist colony and wave at the naked girls and they were going to wave back! Here is a picture of me in a Bell Helicopter. When we got high up, still over the huge hangar he said watch this! We went straight up very high. The big hangar did not look big at all. Then he said watch this! He turned off the engine and props quit working. He took both hands off the controls and we fell. And we kept falling with him looking at me laughing. I was cursing him, officer or not! Which made him laugh even more. The ground got closer and closer. Suddenly on its own the engine turned itself on, the propellors started spinning seriously hard. It let us down gently. What I did know was the helo science of auto-rotation. As the helicopter got closer to the ground it was like a fan, with he blades spinning, It turns itself back on. Well! But what does that have to do with Cape May?

Me a Handyman?

I don't think many people think of me much of a handyman. It is not that I am not mechanical inclined but I'm just don't want to get my hands dirty, greasy, or sticky. Ewww! Today I blew leaves off our driveway and most of my late in-laws driveway, did some more little odd-jobs. I bought a smoke detector and installed it; attached the little bracket to the ceiling, using my drill, screwdriver, and sharp eyes. Yessiree! I was on a roll! After mission accomplished I meant to hop off my little ladder like a pro. But instead making a graceful leap off the ladder my foot got caught between the rungs and I had a forceful crash landing. While lying on the hall's floor I did a mental body check. I felt like my ribs and left armpit socket was knocked out of whack. But after hobbling around making excuses and then taking a mile walk it got my body fluids circulating and I almost as good as new. But it still hurts when I laugh.

SUNDAY FUNNIES!! ec's PANIC #4 Will Elder's SMITTY

November 13th, 1948

On this date, November 13th, 1940, Walt Disney’s FANTASIA was released. It is one of those kind of movies to see over and over, seeing something new each time. It has many scores of classical music in it, many practical lessons, and many this and that. One little lesson in it is the Sorcerer’s Helper, played by Mickey Mouse. While the Sorcerer is away Mickey (aka Mickey) tries out his bosses’ Magic Wand.. Before the boss left, he left his helper with orders to fill something, I forgot what, with water. A boing task, to be sure. So, Mickey, newly learned in magic, orders his broom or mop to do the job. The mop carries two buckets load of water from the well to the target over and over. Mickey got bored and fell asleep. The mop or broom continued carrying loads of water, since it was not instructed at what point to stop The Sorcerer’s residence is flooded and the mop or broom keeping on working. There is a lesson there, that has to be included in every computer program in today digital world. “Turn it off!”

Giving Credit Where Credit Is Due

I saw on the news yesterday that the authorities marked the spot with a marble plaque giving Richard Jewell credit for reconizing a bomb was about to go off at the Atlanta Olympics in 1996, thus saving hundreds of lives by getting the crowd to move. For a while a was the FBI's Chief Suspect. Mr Jewell did not live long enough to see his plaque and the humble pie served with it. It reminded me of a blog I wrote on chicken-fat years ago, about that years ago:

Thelma Welch Swanson (1917-2000). Speaking of Thelma Swanson, she too, is a John Ray and Nancy Sumner descendant). She was a enthused compulsive family researcher. She contributed a lot to the Macon County, North Carolina, Historical Society and wrote a several family genealogy books, one which I bought, DESCENDANTS OF JOHN RAY AND NANCY SUMNER. We have visited her several times, which she gave us tours of the back roads of Macon County, and cemeteries. Although Thelma was not related to the Trammells, she knew I am and knew my Trammell kin were all over Macon County at one time. Whenever she came across Trammell information she passed it on to me. One time she wrote and told me she found something that stated that Revolution soldier William A. Trammell (my g-g-g-g grandfather) is buried in the First Methodist Cemetery in Franklin, but went there and could not find it. We planned a time and I took my sons Rocky and Adam up with me. Thelma, as usual, gave us a short tour, then we went to the First Methodist Cemetery. We looked at every marker and could not find his name. Of course some of the markers were weather beat and unreadable. We decided to go to the local K-Mart and buy some drawing pads, and crayons to rub the markers to read them. While at K-Mart we decided since there was a Burger King across the street, we would drop by there and have lunch. After lunch we went back to the cemetery. When we drove into the part of the parking lot closest the cemetery. The sun had shifted and shiny its beams in new directions and even bouncing them in other directions. The new lights illuminated one tall stone under a huge oak tree - it was shady all around it but seemed to glow. I felt like Indian Jones holding up the cross on a shaft. We looked at the tall marker, it was William Trammell. I felt it was meant to be for me to see it. Eerie! Thelma is the daughter of Thomas Floyd Welch and Annabel "Annie" Lee Ray. She was widowed to Ray Marshall Swanson. She and her sister Pauline "Polly" Welch Buie lived in a duplex, each having their own apartment.. Eric Rudolph is known as a mad terrorist bomber. He is in prison for exploding the Family Planning clinics, the 1996 Atlanta Olympics, and other places. He was on the run from a large manhunt and hid out in the wilderness near Murphy, North Carolina. Murphy, North Carolina, is close to Franklin - just over some hills. At the time I read speculation that local folks in that area of North Carolina might be allowing him to hide on their property. During that time we went to see the Cherokee Indian Reservation in Cherokee, North Carolina. There, we saw "UNTO THESE HILLS". It is about the TRAIL OF TEARS and how one Native American, Tsali fought the soldiers when one of them killed his wife. Tsali and his sons fled for the wilderness and stayed hid and encouraged people on the trail to resist,. There was a manhunt out for him. On the way back the next day we stopped in Franklin and visited Thelma. I brought up Eric Rudolph hiding nearby. She said she used to Eric when he was a young boy and had nothing negative to say about him and said people in that area would gladly hide him from the law. That reminded me of Tsali hiding out from a man hunt in the area. She said her ancestor Albert Alonza Welch his Tsali hide in his barn. I asked, jokingly, were she going like her ancestor with Rudolph.. She changed the subject. .

Vet's Pretz

As I noted earlier we went to Big Bad Daddy’s Burgers for a free meal on Veterans’ Day. We have been to Big Bad Daddy’s several times. Strangly, we have ended up eating in the same booth all but once. How do we end up siting in the same seat almost every time? Simple. Due to our early trait we are almost always the first customers there. And our favorite booth is the first booth from the entrance door. Sitting almost next to entrance and the free offer today of Veterans Eat Free, boy are they in for a surprise when they read the fine print, I noticed most people arriving had a store bought loud color ballcap with the name of their ship or base on it. Are they expecting a by-chance accidental retunion? I posing with my cap I sent off for and paid for, see below. Those private enterprize caps are not official proof that you are a veteran. You need a form called a DD 214 that offers proof you were officially honorably discharged. HOWEVER! Average Vets do not carry around their DD214 form. They carry around a drivers license or some other official ID with a little the word “Veteran” somewhere on it. Today I wasn’t asked for any proof of my status. Which makes me wonder why they check closely at the grocery store checkout when I buy one can of beer. Look at my picture again. Do I look 15 years of age or under?

Eric England, Marine Snapper

Here is my favorite Marine story copied and pasted from my ramblings: In 2008, we went to the Descendants of John Hunter Reunion in Blairsville, Georgia. We have been going to this reunion, off and on, at Track Rock Campgrounds since1980. There I always see some distant cousins I got to know at a earlier reunion and get to meet some I haven't met before. In 2008 I met a distant cousin that I did not remember his name after he told me. I took the above picture that day. He had on a Marine cap. I asked him where all he served and he told me. When one of the places he said, was THE USS NEWPORT NEWS I lit up. I did too! I asked when, when he gave the dates and I said I was there part of that time, January 1965. He was part of the Marine detachment there. It is small world, we were cousins on the same ship in the city of Jacksonville, Florida, Atlantic Ocean, Gulf of Mexico, Mississippi River, and the City of New Orleans and did not know we were blood kin. Later another distant cousin, Bob Reece, from Blairsville and Marietta and I became Facebook friends and we are related the same way the Marine and I are related, descendants of John Hunter (1775-1848). I sent Bob the same picture above and asked him if he knew this man, since they both were Blairsville natives. He said the face look familiar, he would have to think about it. Then months later Bob wrote: Eddie, I just realized who this guy is. It's Eric England. He is a legendary Marine. Sniper with a huge amount of kills. If he is related to you, you should research him. Top marksman in the Marine Corps for years.

Sailor In Every Port - I should hope so, how else would they float?

Ahoy there. I eats my spinach! Shanghai is not only a name of a city it is also what the action of snatching up people near the docks and putting them to work on ships. Their incentive to do ship work was if they didn’t the would be thrown overboard. Portland, Oregon, led the count on most people in the U.S. that was Shangehaid. Here I am sailing aboard the USS NEWPORTS NEWS. KAKAKAKA (that’s me imitating Popeye chuckling). My work area where I was Shanghaid. Nah I was just joshing you. This post also has my friend Reuben a few seconds after or before my picture was taken. We each took turns taking each other pictures. Reuben me in August 1963 at Lakehurst, New Jersey, and have kept up with each other since. He made a lifer’s career in the Navy retiring as a Warrant Officer, now living in Thailand. HAPPY VETERAN’S DAY!

Veterans' Memories

Veterans have combat events in their memories. Some prefer not to talk about their combat experiences Some, and some do. There are bar events worth telling or to keep quiet about. I told a few of those experiences myself. In the Arm Forces one has to have comrade. The higher ranks are not your buddies they are your bosses. Which reminds me of our office. When the commanding officer entered our office who ever saw him first would hollow, “ATTENTION ON DECK!” and he would give a friendly smile and motion “as you were.” Then he would toss his braided-bill hat onto the hat rack and go into our division officer’s office and shut the door. Then the fun would begin, Don and I would take times playing “chicken” wearing his hat. We stood close to the hat rack in case incase we head shoes shuffle standing up. Our department officer had no smiles, no personality all. He was strictly business. He never said anything personal. When he was near one of us would get behind him and have jerky robot movement. And any officer that seemed to take himself too seriously one of us would get behind him and make faces at him, trying to get our friend in front crack up with laughter or at least a trembling smirk. With the exception of below. We were very lucky, and smart, that we didn’t get caught. The picture is my coworker Don showing off his blackeye. A Marine popped him for making fun of his musical jerks in the EM CLUB.

Pearl Harbor Survivors

Pearl Harbor Memorial and /Survivors, , National Cemetery, Marietta, Ga.

I enlisted into the Navy because of the Cuban Missile Crisis. I would say it was because our nation was on the brink of nuclear war and they needed able body person they could get. But that is not the real reason I enlisted. I enlisted because I predicted in about 50 years restaurants would be thanking me for my service and offer me a free meal on Veterans' Day. And even one department store offered Veterans a flat $10 off on this Veteran's Day Weekend on any purchased. Which I sadly found out is not entirely true. It did not apply to Levis pants purchases.

Jerry Hunter (1941-1966)

My first cousin Jerry Hunter, two months older than me, was a pilot in Vietnam was shot down May 25, 1966.

Homeless at Krogers'

We have been shopping weekly at the same Kroger’s Grocery Store for years. We are retired, so we are not on a routine to buy groceries a certain day. For the past half year or so, almost every time we go, no matter what day it is, we see a certain man walking the aisles. He always wears the same denims, He appears to be in his late 30s. The aimless way he walks around the store without picking anything up makes me think he is homeless. On the walk in front of Krogers there is swing set for sale. A couple of times I have seen him sitting in the swing reading a very thick and bad-shape paperback book. Another time I saw him running down a hill on a sidewalk headed in the direction of Krogers. Was he late? Late for what? I wonder what he finds comfort in Kroger’s? I think I would at least pick a store that had plenty of free samples. Today, after loading the groceries in he car I returned the shopping cart to the walk in front of the store. He was sitting in the swing reading a Bible. I spoke to him for the first time. I said, “Howdy!” or something like that. He said, “God Bless you and be careful out there.” I wish I had slipped him some money.

Want More Catsup?

You want more catsup? Here is more catsup. In the years 1963, 64, and 65 I was stationed at NAS Lakehurst, NJ. Our office manager some of the time was First Class O. First Class O. was an unaggressive, soft spoken, polite kind of guy. However, his wife Lucy looked like a weathered hard labor kind of person. She was loud, had no manners, and down to earth unpretentious. When First Class had duty overnight it meant a night on the town for Lucy. She made a impression on me one time, I think it was a New Years Eve we went bar hopping. The first bar we walked in the bartender ordered her out. She promptly picked up a pool ball off the pool table and said, “that is no way to speak to a fucking lady!” and threw the pool ball of a stained glass window, breaking it. This night I am talking about tho, 1st Class O was on duty and Lucy had a dinner party. She invited me and Lash from the office and two married couples. Lash was bragging about the fine spaghetti sauce he had preerected and Lucy begged Lash to make it for the dinner. I’ll skip the details, but after we sat down and started eating, a boorish guest asked Lucy if she had any catsup. I never seen Lash that mad. He looked at me and trembled. He later told me that was an insult to be proud of your sauce and someone asks for catsup. I kidded him about the catsup for years.

Over and Over Again

Cheshire Bridge Road off I-85 in Atlanta has been in the news a lot lately. One time it was an unofficial homeless shelter under the Bridge and more recently, the Bridge is being rebuilt causing a lot of suggestions on how to re-route oneself commuting. Each time I hear Cheshire Bridge Road I am reminded of the time in the late 1960s we saw a coupon in the paper advertising an Italian Restaurant on Cheshire Bridge Road. The coupon offered one free meal if you bought a meal of equal or greater value. The chef and owner found out we were there to take advantage of their generous offer. As owner, and chef, he visited each table to ask how they are enjoying their meal and other small talk. When he got to our table I forgot how he found out we were eating one of those meals equal to one another completely free. He threw a few insults our way about how can a business man make any money if the only way he can get business is to give half of it free. And he topped the conversation by topping the conversations by, “Can I get you folks anything? Catsup?” Even I got that one.

Willow, again

Back about 14 years ago when Willow adopted us, she was a different person than she grew to be. When we adopted her the humane society told us she has been returned twice, and somehow insinuated that was her last return..... meaning gulp! Back then she did not care for me. Any time I tried to pet her she would try to avoid it. At times she even snapped at me. Finally, I think, she figured out who fed her, and she changed her attitude towards me. At times she had clawed my arms,leaving lines of bloody scratches. I think a human male in her previous life mistreated her. And then, it appeared as if she was mistreating me. In time we became the best of buddies. I knew she had finally accepted me when she started sleeping on the floor on same side that I slept above her on the bed. Willow was a very good hunter. I have seen her lying quietly in the yard waiting patiently watching a bird hop around looking, or a chipmunk, or a squirrel smell around and got too close to Willow and it was too late. She pounced suddenly and the poor animal did not have a chance. I have seen her chewing on birds, squirrels, and rabbits and I think she used chipmunks as junk food. One time I saw her chewing on something furry and I got close to get a better look and it was a squirrel’s tail. I never saw the tailless squirrel in the trees in our back yard. It probably found a safer residence. I think as the years went by Willow’s reputation prevented little wild animals to dare venture into our back yard. They didn’t want to be snatched up and swallowed by the magnificent Willow the Dog;. The animals could smell or see her lying in the back yard soaking up sun, so they stayed away. What they didn’t know Willow had retired from hunting. Her bones ached, she was mostly blind, and I had to manually help her go up steps. Now Willow is no longer with us. It took the wild animals two or three weeks to figured out she was gone for good and not pulling a fatal trick on them. Again, in the back yard many little wild animals are playing and chasing each other in without fear.

1st Day of School, 1947

This picture was taken in 1947, Left to right: Jeane Steel, Billy somebody who moved to Gramling Street, Eddie Hunter (me), Frances Hunter, and Helen Steel. I think the picture's purpose we were to look sad, which wasn't hard to do, because it was the day of going back to school, after the summer break. Except for me, it was my first crack at it. As sad as it looks, here is something else to think about. The picture was taken early September 1947. It is less than 29 years and 11 months of being a 100 years old. Now, that is sad!