Billy Joe Royal and My First Trip (this is a copy & paste of a previous adventure)

About 1958 or 59 several of us boys went to Panama City Beach, Florida. We went in Billy Joe Royal’s 1950 black Ford. That was before Billy Joe Royal was a famous rock & Roll and Country Singer.. he was a singer of that, but not famous... yet. Our bunch was Billy Joe's brother Jack, Tommy, Charley, and Harry Whitten. It took us about 12 hours to make the six to seven hour trip. We got lost a bunch of times on little dirt roads in Alabama. I think it might have taken so long because we left around 11pm, and through Alabama Harry drove and everybody else fell asleep. When I woke up at daybreak I saw that we were on a dirt highway or road, freshly cut with no signs of civilization. asked Harry where were we and he said he had no idea. Harry died a young man just a few years later. In Panama City Beach area the cheapest motel we found was The Key of Rest Motel. They advertised only $8 a night for two people. Between all five of us we had about $40. I had $30 of that and Jack had about $15. We decided The Key of Rest Motel was about the best we could do. Jack and I had most the money so we both registered and each paid $8. The room had twin beds and a bathroom that we shared with the connecting room. We brought our stuff in, which wasn’t much and then bought some Straight 8 Beer which sold for $1 a six pack. This was the first week of June. High school students from all over Alabama and Georgia converged on Panama City. Most of the Marietta people had rooms at two motels just down the street. A few of our friends found out where we were staying and dropped by for a visit and bringing more beer. After a while we decided to walk across the road to the public beach and go hang out on the beach and maybe get some sun. I remember they had sun-tan lotion tents. You step in a tent, deposit a quarter and you are sprayed with lotion. We were too poor to do that, but I thought it was interesting anyway. Also was a sign with a local ordinance number at the bottom. The sign said, “No Colored Maids allowed in bathing suits on the beach.” This was a public, government owned beach. I thought that was terrible. I noticed the lady who owned our motel come from down on the beach someplace carrying a very big fishing rod and a basket which I suppose had fish in it. I was glad to see that… I thought she wasn’t swept up in running a motel so much that she couldn’t enjoy the Florida amenities too. When you are feeling the effects of alcohol you can tolerate the hot sun more than usual. We all took a nap on the beach baking in the sun. We woke up a few hours later baked. We were red as lobsters. That night we went to a pavilion by the beach called “The Hangout.” There was a jukebox playing rock and roll music and hundreds of teenagers… some were dancing, most were standing around looking at the dancers, and some more was out on the beach beyond the lights fighting. We wisely stayed in the lights. When we returned to our room that night and we all stripped down to our underwear we were blistery sore. I think a few friends came in that had no money or a place to stay so we told them they could stay with us. It was so crowded if anyone moved someone else screamed in pain. One of us checked out the joining room. It was not being used. We divided up, half of us went into the next room. Then there were probably between 4 and 6 per room. We all went to sleep peacefully. In the middle of the night the outside door opened up in the unpaid-for room and there stood the woman who ran the motel with a newly married couple. The bride screamed, the woman proprietor hollered, and some of the half-naked red-baked boys screamed. She kicked us out. We asked for a refund and she laughed bitterly. When we were putting stuff in the car she marched over from the office and wisely demanded to go through our suitcases. She retrieved her towels. With no place to go we headed to Valdosta, Georgia. Billy Joe was born in Valdosta and had family there. I am not sure if Jack was born in Valdosta or not. Doc Holliday was. Again it took us longer than it should have. Again we got lost and went through Tallahassee, Florida, which I think was way out of the way. Billy Joe and Jack’s uncle and aunt welcomed us. The aunt cooked some delicious breakfasts. For almost a week we just lounged around and went to a local teen hangout at Twin Lakes Park a couple of times. Their aunt and uncle were very much into music. They had a piano and guitars. Billy Joe would practice singing with playing different instruments. I think he could duplicate anybody’s voice and style while singing… if you had your eyes closed you were think the Coasters or maybe Ray Charles was singing, and the next song you would think it was Hank Williams…. Then you would hear, Jerry Lee Lewis grabbing the bull by the horns. After the first week Tommy, Charlie, and I went with their other uncle and aunt who lived in Tifton to spend a few days. Jack and Billy Joe stayed with the ones in Valdosta… they were singing together over the piano and guitar, harmonizing like. The Tipton uncle and family lived in a rented house behind the owner's house. The house was on the edge of a pastor. The county Tifton is in was dry at that time. The uncle went the next county over to get us booze. On one of the nights they took us to the American Legion in Sylvester, Georgia. That night it was hot in south Georgia, I felt sick, . I laid down in the driveway. His wife told him somebody might run over me, and he said, "Hell, they might bump up against him, but he is too big to run over." I was a big kid then. I slept there by the pasture fence all night. In the morning I woke up with a cow looking at me through the fence. In a few days we returned to Valdosta to hear the latest. A furniture warehouse had a dance a certain night every week. BJ and Jack’s uncle played in the band… and BJ was going to get to play with them. For the occasion BJ and Jack’s mother and their two sisters came from Marietta to Valdosta to hear him on stage. They knew he could do it, and do it well - and they were right. After the dance was over, Mrs. Royal and her daughters, Tommy, Charlie, me, and Jack crammed into a car and drove back to Marietta. Billy Joe stayed back in order to perform. As far as I know that was Billy Joe Royal’s first singing gig to an audience. Picture from MHS yearbook The Ollympian. Colorized by Joe Joe L Jenkins Sr On this day ·

y 2 week Vacation and Steve McQueen's Dogs

After I was released of two years active duty in the Navy I was assigned a Naval Reserve unit at NAS ATLANTA. We met once and month and two weeks a year our squadron went on active duty. The first year we went to Norfolk, Virginia. The second year, about 1967, we went to Yuma, Arizona. This post is mostly about that trip. We went to a Marine Air Base. When I stepped off the plane I was hit by a blast of dry he I never experienced before. In the Eastern United States the air is humid, that we are used to it. But in the desert, it is a total change of environment. The barracks were more like dormitories., two a room. And you share bathroom facilities with one two other men living on the flipside. At New Jersey, we had 4 men to portioned cube and shared the bathroom, or head, I should say, with about 100 men. I thought Marines was known for roughing it? My job was to walk through a little desert, about equal to a quarter of mile to pick up the mail and bring it back, sort if, and deliver it. I enjoyed my desert walk every day and never once saw a snake. There was an EM Club which I went to several times. I don’t remember anything memorable about the club but they except worms in the tequila bottles. One evening some of us paid a Marine to take us across the border about 20 miles away to Saint Louise, Mexico. I was warned the merchants of that town had a custom that “if you touch something, you buy it.” So, I walked around with my hands more or less locked. My immediate Supervisor was Chief Sprung. Chief Sprung lived in North Carolina when he wasn’t at Reserve Training. I liked to avoid him because he talked too much and expect interactive responses. I like to avoid him when I could. While walking on the base I ran into someone that was stationed in New Jersey. With me. His last name was Lambert and he was from North Carolina. I did not know it at the time but my great grandfather and his uncle Van Trammell was accused of killing a Lambert when having a heated political argument. The two Lamberts may have been kin. Possibly, a small world. We had one full weekend there. We heard a Naval Helicopter was to go to Las Angeles on Friday and we would have to find our own way back to the base Monday morning. About 5 or 6 of us took advantage of the free ride. The Naval helicopter took us to a Naval Air Station in Anaheim, California. There we were on our own. I chose to hitchhike to Los Angeles, which was not far away, so I got out on the highway and stuck my thumb out. I would never do that today. While I had my thumb out I realized the Naval Air Station was across the street from DISNEYLAND. I could hear rides causing people oooing and aahhing and loud music. I could see one ride clearly, it looked like a mountain with box cars with people going into caves, and around bends, and all. I think it was THE MATTERHORN. I finally got a ride to downtown L.A. I hit a few bars and the USO, strolled around looking for attractions I have heard about. I also got a room in a big hotel for two days. I think the first thing I did after I checked in was pick up a bunch of brochures on local attractions and in the lobby and sat down in front of a big window and watched the pedestrians walk by. I was enjoying it until I saw on the sidewalk Chief Sprung walked by. He glanced in the window and kept on walking. I did not move afraid the chief would see me. Then apparently, about 20 feet later he realized he saw me and turned around and then there he stood looking at me. He smiled when he knew his eyes were not playing tricks on him. He smiled and waved and started for the door. Chief Sprung sprung into the lobby and he talked me into letting him share the room with him I just rented. He said he would reimburse me his half. Which I think he probably did. The chief needed to use the phone in the room to hunt down a friend he was in the Navy with many years ago. He found his old friend. The old friend wanted to see him again, so he told us to stand on the corner of the streets our hotel was on and he could pick us up, which he did. He drove us to his house, in Hollywood Hills, I think. His friend was an engineer for Disney land. Apparently, It paid well. They had a lot to talk about, like “Who was that guy that…blab la?” or “What ever happened to…blab la.” The wife, who was a nice and kind looking lady, and I were excluded from the conversation because it just was not about us. She offered to show me the house, which she did. A couple of times we sat down and talked. She was knowledgeable on a lot of subjects. We walked out the back door onto a patio. And again, sat and talked. Then we walked over the back yard. We got very close to the wired fence. On the other side of the fence two huge dogs came galloping up. They wanted to know more about me. The wife told me that was Steve McQueen’s dogs. I asked something like, “Steve McQueen’s is your neighbor?” She said “Yes.” A non braggart’s way. I said, as I always say, “My claim to fame!” She laughed. Chief Sprung and his friend’s wife got us to the bus station on time and we spent a few hours appreciating the rocky mountain landscape between .L.A. and Yuma, Arizona. In the middle of the next week when our squadron’s pilots went out on training one did not come back. Apparently, something went wrong. The next day a local dome buggy squadron, as a search party went looking for hm and the plane. I overheard s couple of elderly chiefs who were talking about heaving a ball riding done buggies around the scary rocky mountain terrain. As far as I know the plain or body was not found. Surely they have by now. When we were loading stuff on the plain to return back to NAS ATLANTA one of he drivers of the drivers a the trams was a first class mechanic. I recognized him, from my old Squadron. His last name is Moody. We recognized each other. He told me he had just got orders for Vietnam. What I did not know at the time is that I am descended from the Moody Family. The guy might have been a distant cousin. Again, small world.

Eric England, Snapper

This was originally published on my blog Chicken-fat April 8, 2018. I only met him one time at a Hunter Reunion. I took his picture because I thought our meeting was unique because at our only meeting we discovered we were both on the ship USS NEWPORT NEWS at the same time.. Later I learned he was one of the top, if not the top, sniper(s) in the Vietnam War. From what I know, I think he was a very humbled and shy person. I heard a few days ago they were about to amputate his leg. Maybe that did him in. I remember at our own meeting we talked about the NEWPORT NEWS. I told him what I hated the most about shipboard life for enlisted men was that no matter when you go to the "head" for a bowel movement, the toilets are lined up facing one another, and it is always crowded, even in the middle of night, so when you take a shit you will be touching knees with someone you don't know very well. He got a kick out of that. Google Eric England and you will meet an interesting person. Postscript: For what it is worth I think he was the "King of the Vietnam Snappers" after our Newport News shipboard experience. That was in early 1965.

Daddy the Local Medicine Man

This was the 1st Methodist Annex. Now, it is the law office of former Governor Roy Barnes. It was built about 1945-46. I know, because I was there. We lived about a block away in the Clay Homes. I was preschool. When the workers building the Annex left in the evening we, the local kids, would suddenly materialized. We played war, invented toys such as see-saws, leaping contests and whatever else we could invent with what we had. One kid, Mike Hobby, fell from one level to the next, landed on his feet like a cat, however a spike or nail went through his foot. Mike and his little brother George did not live in the Clay Homes like the rest of us, they lived in an older house next door to the Annex-to-be. They just moved there from Macon. Their father, Marian Hobby, gave them strict orders do not play in the Annex-to-be. Opps! Of course they did not want their father to know they disobeyed him. I don’t remember how this came to be, but Daddy solved their problem. If I remember correctly he cleaned the wound with kerosene. And all’s well that ends well. Daddy was something of a local unofficial witch doctor. He could get foreign objects out of one’s eye socket, puncture infectious pusy sores and other home remedies. I remember seeing him many times over the stove holding a needle over the stove’s blue flame, getting ready to operate. I remember one time my legs were infected with who knows what, my legs were covered with risons with whiteheads. We went to his parents’ house and got a sack of black walnuts that have fell off the tree. He wanted just the black liquidy goo that surrounded the walnut shell. He rubbed my legs with that smelly stuff for a few days, and in the disease was gone. Poof!

A Real Chicken-Fat Reader!

Sometimes I come across a reader of chicken-fat.com that I was unaware of. It happened today. I went to the Marietta Museum of History to see a panel of educators talk about Cobb Education. While mulling around before it started a lady came up to me , looked me in the eyes and said, "Are you Eddie Hunter?" I felt kind of like a pawn broker, car salesman, or a junk man when he first meets somebody... size them up to make sure they are not dangerous and if they do, look for a quick escape route. In my case, I quickly judge that the folding chairs were too high to leap over but there was an aisle between the folding chair, that I could quickly run down and out the door . She looked harmless and polite. I took a chance. I said I was and was ready to duck or spring. She politely told me she reads my blog chicken-fat.com. and she has been reading it since she read an article about me in the Marietta Journal. Ahah! She read the Laura Armstrong article. I asked her what her name was and she said her name was Laura. Wait! I am getting confused, too many Lauras. She even told me some of my compulsions such as the band TUBA SKINNY. I thought to myself, she is not faking it, she really reads chicken-fat. I asked her if I could take her picture and she was reluctant. I will not publish it because I don't think she really wanted her picture taken, so I will respect her wishes It does my ego good to run into somebody that actually reads my hysterically paranoid nonsense.

SUNDAY FUNNIES!! PANIC's IRVING OOPS

Remember Ally Oop in the comic strips? It is still around. Here is PANIC'a (MAD's sister) mock of it. Illustrated by my artist hero the late Will Elder.

Someplace vs No Place

I bought a new tarp several months ago. I haven't used it yet, it is still in the plastic. Today I was wondering where to put it and I decided to but it in the storage space behind the seats in the truck. Why in the storage space behind the truck's seats? I answered, "Because everything has to be someplace." True! Have you heard of something that was no place? Everything has to be someplace! It is simple physics. But, I haven't heard anybody actually say that. I think I made a new discovery that no one else has thought of. Remember the time we talked Einstein's Theory of Relativity? In the whole theory, someplace it is says "Matter or energy cannot be created or destroyed." And I think we should add an amendment that says "matter has to be someplace." We will call it the Edwin T. Hunter, Jr. Amendment. And also, do I get some kind of royalty checks for this new insightful discovery?

Funeral Years Ago

We went to Mayes Ward Funeral Home in downtown Marietta to pay our respects to the departed and the departed husband and daughters. The departed had a fair amount of blood relatives and fellow church members there. Because they are my in-laws I knew all the relatives but the church members I wasn't sure about some, but I think I knew most of them too. But did the ones that I knew know me? No. That is because I am invisible. One of the church members I have seen many times in different social surroundings knows my in-laws well, but I know he has never really focused on me. The little devil sitting on my shoulder dared me to speak to him by his first name and watch his expression. I did. The man looked at me puzzled, first like, "I heard my name, where did it come from? Him?" He looked at me and I smiled. He smiled and said, "How ya doing?" And gave me an eye-twinkling smile. I said, "Same ol, same ol" And walked on. Arnold Parish, a life-long family friend came in. He spoke to me by name and haven't seen me in a couple of years. That always surprises me. He used to live with his family in the Clay Homes. He is about the same age as Frances. He told me he was a volunteer in the Cancer Unit and knew the deceased's husband there, where he was also a volunteer. David Green, another life-long friend came in. He and the deceased's husband are both in the Masons. Poor David is having back problems. A horse threw him and did a number on his back which he looks to be suffering terribly with, he even now stands in a warp position. I hope he gets relief for his back soon. By random chance two life-long friends showed up at my aunt-in-law's visitation. I wonder if I went to any visitation of any Marietta native if I visited long enough would somebody I know come in to pay their respects? What about two people showing up? What do you think the chances are? I think the chances are pretty high. Once the widower was sitting alone. I sat down beside him. It didn't seem right that he should sit along when everybody were socializing. He told me earlier he had to sit, his back was hurting him. He asked me how I was doing. "Fine, and you?" "She is better off now." "No more pain." "And in a better place." I nodded. It is good that people can come to a place that is all about their relative or friend's death and socialize and keep everything light hearted for closure. It is like the old expression, "I'm laughing to keep from crying."

Marietta Downtown c1964

The Safe Thing To Do

This is something you don't see often. The first block of Atanta Street vacant of cars. I probably took this picture on a Sunday morning. Years ago I used to walk in downtown on Sunday mornings. One time in the spot the lens is aimed, about where all the newspaper boxes are, a guy ran around the corner, and flattened himself against the wall. I was walking towards him. As I got closer, I saw why he did what he did. A Marietta police car cruised slowly from Roswell Street going west. I gulped, because in just a second we would be face to face. What did we do? The safest thing, as far I was concerned, we ignored each other.

Family Twists, Turns, and Returns

Researching my family tree has had some interesting curves thrown at me. While following a tree up (or is it down?) tonight on Ancestry.com one of my ancestors is Thomas Alexander, born in 1548, in Ayrshire, Scotland. His parents are listed as Thomas Caldwell and Alice Tomlinson . He married Elise Muir, born 1558 in Lanarkshire, Scotland. her parent s were Robert Muir and Alice Tomlinson. Alice Tomlinson? That is the name of her husband Thomas Alexander Caldwell's mother? So, going a notch higher I found that Alice Tomlinson was married to Thomas Caldwell and later married to Robert Muir. Thomas Alexander Caldwell married his half sister! I thought Ray Stephens made all that stuff up!

Queen Elizabeth's Funeral, from my view

We watched Queen Elizabeth’s Funeral this morning. These are just some mental notes from I came away with: Strangely, of the thousands of people I saw through BBC and NBC lens I only saw one person with an unnatural color hair or long hair. I think this young lady’s hair was artificially too bright red. I thought in Great Britan that was the style, more so than here. Many of the news commentators mentioned how humble and deep thinking the Queen was, full of insightful quotable quotes. A Dali lama in a skirt and crown? They said that then turned around and said the best quotes we will never known because it was private between her and leaders of the world. The funeral horses did not like the loud cannon bangs. The horses would start kicking and uprearing on each bang. There were many elite armed service officers and others with medals pinned to their coat or jacket. Are the medals something like Boy Scout Merritt Badges? Like Stamp Collecting or Building a Safe Fire? I doubt it, I think the medals are bragging rights to certain battles or exploring a new continent or something like that. Which brings up the military pallbearers who carried the coffin. Upstairs, down stairs, up nd down hills. I watched them it look like they had a method and everything went smoothly. I think there should be a medal for pallbearing heads of state bodies here and there. Two men in a hearse carried Queen Elizabeth’s body. Occasional, from a drone, bridge, or whatever would zoom in on the two men. I don’t think they spoke to each other at all. It seemed they would make small talk about the crowds, the weather, or whatever. Maybe being on duty they felt that talking would be rude, maybe it would be.

Old South BBQ in Smyrna

As I already posted, we had lunch at Old South BBQ in Smyrna today. I think about 51 years ago when we were first married we wanted black-eyed peas for New Years Day and finding a restaurant serving those was not easy. Old South came through. I like their non-pretentious down to earth mannerisms. And the fact that the waitress addresses all the men folk Sweetheart, My-love, or Sugar is nice too. I remember also years ago when they were first starting out the neighborhood kids often came in and helped themselves to a Coke at the dispenser. Maybe their kids were part Our Gang bunch too. I don’t think they do that now. I also noticed often that police cars and ambulances parked outside, not for emergencies but for the grub. Today I saw the waitress point to the pictures of the owners and tell someone they were her parents. Also while being friendly with the customers, she learned the white headed dignified man she was talking to was his birthday. She seemed hurt that she wasn’t notified it was his birthday today.She volunteered to go get the Big Birthday Hat for the dignified man to wear. In body language I think he said, “Over my dead body.” Also, as finale’ today we saw I had spilled some homemade chili on my shirt. My suave plan was to get my glass of water and dip my napkin into the water and then scrub my shirt with the wet cloth. I never got past step one. I spilled the glass of water all over the table. Time to go anyway.

SUNDAY FUNNIES!! From HUMBUG magazine THE PASSION OR PRIDE or something like that.

Art by Will Elder (original founder artist of MAD Comic Book) and story by editor Harvey Kurtzman (creator of MAD Comicbook). Click on each page to make bigger and readable.

Mary the Wave

There were no females in our squadron of 300 plus men. We were in a seagoing helicopter squadron, so any of us was subject to be part of a helo crew on a ship at any time. It is probably not the case now, but then females did not go on sea duty. On the base there were a bunch of Waves. They worked here and there in base operations. Some, and probably most were typists. Some worked at the little on base medical center and some worked in Special Services who ran the theater, bowling alley, library, and so on. The waves’ barracks building was next to the base pool. Some times in the summer on Sunday afternoon we would go and hangout at the pool hoping some of the waves would come out and flirt with us. They came but hung out in a group. Another wave, was alone many times at the E.M. Club. We noticed her like we noticed all waves, like eyes transfixed and focused on the nearest one. The wave was named Mary. We cleverly named her Mary the Wave. Mary was masculine and had away about her that any egomaniac jock would envy. She walked as if she was a muscle bound man and was a loud mouth. In short, we had no sexual interest in Mary the Wav One day at the E.M. Club one of us spoke to her which led to a long conversation. She came to our table. I think the big pitcher of beer sitting there attracted her. Before sitting down she went up to the bar and asked the bartender for an empty glass. After all, she had standards. After drinking beer with Mary we found out she wasn’t she wasn’t such a bad gal. Well, she did let us know we had no chance at all of getting to first base with her and that she said in so many words and witty word play innuendos that she preferred women. Well, we couldn’t hold that against her, we also preferred women. Mary became one of our regulars beer drinkers at our table at the E.M. Club. At least twice she slipped into the barracks with us holding the door for her and looking around to make sure the coast was clear. She didn’t slip in the barracks with us to have a sexual love tumble. In each case it was time to close the E.M. Club and she wasn’t finished talking yet. When she started drinking she had plenty to say. I remember one night after lights out (10pm) Don slipped Mary in the barracks. They were both drunk. Don and Mary visited a few friends that were asleep in their bunks and they got quiet a jolt when then woke up and realized Mary the Wave was crawling under the blanket with them. At the entrance of the E.M. Club was always a SP (security police) in uniform sitting at a little table. His job was to make sure no under-agers came in to drink and in general restore order in case disorder happens. Next to him was a little hallway. In the hall was the door to the men’s restroom and the door to the women’s restroom, pardon me, I mean to say "Ladies Head" and "Men Heads." One night, after all us males have left except Don, that one kept drinking with Mary and see was in her abstract drinking and had a lot to say. She had to go to the restroom but she wasn’t finished talking. So, she motioned for Don to to come on with her to the women’s restroom. The guy refused, saying the SP will see him. She more or less jumped up and down and demanded that he come alone. Finally decided that first she would go and a few seconds later he would go, and the SP would assume that the guy would have naturally went to the Men’s room. In a few seconds he found himself in the restroom. Mary hollered from a stall, “Over here!” So, he walked over and stood outside the stall while Mary was making her deep philosophy points, driving her point home with the sound of farts and turds hitting the water. After she wiped and flushed and she washed her hands. Mary and Don walked out. Facing them just outside the door of the SP with his arms folded, patiently waiting. He checked their identification cards and told them to come with him. He had them climb in the back of a gray Naval van. Off they went. Don expected him to turn left at on the main road towards the security office at the front gate. Instead he turn left towards the airfield. After he drove so far out and the in the dark he pulled over. The SP opened the van and told Don to get up and drive and do not look in the back. The SP climbed inside the back with Mary. The guy drove and he could hear Mary in the back raving, screaming cursing, kicking, and hitting her attacker Don drove for a minute or two and thought, “This is wrong, just plain wrong.” He drove pulled onto the runway with all the lines of lights. He stopped the van, left the headlights on and got out and started walked away. After he got maybe ¼ mile or more away a moving light got his attention, he looked up, and three of four vehicles with their lights on, one a flashing light, were quickly approaching the parked van. The next day Mary was laughing about it saying the SP was in trouble and she was going to press charges. We asked did he rape her, and she swatted her hand, like swatting a gnat and said, “Not hardly!” I wonder what ever happened to Mary the Wave?

Annie Kendricks, Postal Supervisor

I saw a lady on TV this evening that reminded me of Annie Kendricks. I think there is a star or singer by the same name but this Annie Kendricks worked at the Atlanta Post Office when I worked there. I was a time keeper and she was a mail processing supervisor. Annie was a burst of smiles and friendliness. But she did not tolerate tardiness. One time I knew she was going to suspend. A guy for a week for being late a lot. After she presented the guy with the letter he yanked it out of her hand and stormed off. She hollered behind him, “AND HAVE A NICE DAY!!” I asked Annie, “Do you mean you suspend somebody for a week and tell him to have a nice day?” She saw no conflict, she truly wished him a nice day. After that we kidded each other scorning each other with a hateful glare and saying, “Have a nice day!” She died within a few months after that.

The Pooting Pallbearers

Watching the Royal military pallbearers tote Queen Elizabeth’s casket around off and on for he past few days brought back memories of a certain funeral I was part of in 1960. I was 18, the other pallbearers were about the same age. The late friend of ours were killed in a wreck. The funeral was at Little River Methodist Church on Highway 92 out in the country, a couple miles east of Woodstock. After the service us pallbearers took positions and a grip on the handle and started the long walk to the grave. It was vey heavy. The trail to the dug out grave was not level. The terrain went down and up deeply. Going up the hill bearing so much weight I had a fear of losing my grip. I suppose some others of us had that fear too. Then Larry, the oldest of us, let out a loud deep fart. Which we were immature teenagers. We always giggled at loud farts. We did this time too. Five of us were giggling, trying to swallow our giggles and the other one was cursing Larry. He cursed Larry for his crudeness and disrespectful, and sacrilegious . The more he fussed the more we giggled, silently, of course. Luckily we were far enough from the rest of the funeral congregation I don’t think they heard us. If they hid they hid it well. Incidentally the one that got offended over the loud fart died about a month ago. Woodstock has grown. The cemetery we buried our friend at on Highway 92 is now next door to the Woodstock City Hall and across the highway from Walmart. Through the years I have been to other funerals there and sometimes when shopping at Walmart I have dropped by to pay my respect to my died-too-early friend. That trail is still steeply up and down.

Buck Jones on Rogers Ferry

This is Rogers Ferry crossing over the Chattahoochee River, about 1890. They are probably coming from Atlanta's side to the Roswell side. On board with his two mules and wagon is William Cinatra "Buck" Jones (1850 - 1930). Buck, a farmer, was a resident of the Cumming-Alpharetta (Milton), Georgia, area. He was married to Sarah Ann Elizabeth "Sallie" Brown (1848 - 1920). They were/are Anna's great great grandparents, on her mother's mother side.

The Late Bill Rampley & SOUTHERN COMFORT

The late Bill Rampley at a Bell Reunion. I admired Bill a lot. He wasn't afraid to take a chance. The TV Pilot he made of happenings in the south, I think the name of it was SOUTHERN COMFORT, would have been a great show.

John Ray of Macon County, North Carolina

The parents of Emaline Ray Hunter, wife of William A. Hunter are John Ray and Nancy Sumner: John Ray [84],4 son of Unknown Ray [87] and Margaret "Peggy" Fouts [88], was born in 1813 in , Ashe Co, NC, died in 1903 in , Macon Co, NC at age 90, and was buried in Burningtown Baptist Church, Macon Co., NC. General Notes: The territory of Macon County and portions of Jackson and Swain Counties were acquired by treaty from the Cherokee Indians in 1817-1819 and was incorporated into Haywood County which had been formed from Buncombe County in 1808. In the spring of 1820 the State of North Carolina sent several companies of surveyors into the area and surveyed the survey of lands went rapidly. When the work was completed and auction of the lands were held in Waynesville in September 1820, and later sales were held in Franklin. Settlement of the town of Franklin and the Tennessee River Valley began at once. But it wasn't until the 1828-1829 session of the General Assembly in Raleigh, N.C. that an act was passed to create at new county and the name of Macon was given it in honor of Nathaniel Macon, Speaker of the House and a N.C. senator. John F. Ray and his wife, Nancy Sumner Ray, with two young children, Henry, age three, and Naomi, and one year old, one year old, came to this new county in 1835 and settled in the Oakdale-Burningtown section. This section was very hilly and heavily forested and had to be cleared of trees to have land for farming. They grew their crops on these hillsides for there was very little flat land. The plentiful timber supplied the needs of logs for building, heating and cooking. By 1850, John had 30 acres of improved land, which was much acreage for it had been cleared from the forest lands, and 75 acres remained unimproved. At the time of the 1850 Census was taken John had 3 horses, 3 cows, and 20 swine. Through the years John acquired more acreage until by 1880 he had 230 cares with 50 improved with 2 acres of apple orchard. He improved his property and acquired more livestock to include 4 work oxen, a mule, sheep, and cattle. Horses were seldom used for farm work, only for riding and pulling wagons and buggies. He grew Indian corn, wheat, oats, rye, peas, sweet and Irish potatoes. They had bees to supply honey, which provided much of the sweetener for cooking, and beeswax for candles. John was a wagon maker and the sons helped with this as well as the farm work. Church records show that John Ray was baptized January 8, 1860. John Ray sold his land holdings to his son, J. Frank Ray, on April 4, 1885 for $400.00 In the transaction was 25 acres near the gap of the mountain at the head of Iotla Creek, 45 acres, part of the Guyer tract, and 76 acres on Burningtown Creek, District 17, Tract 52. John probably continued to live in the home after the sale for J. Frank Ray and his wife did not sell this land until January 17, 1894. They sold the land to John Baldwin lands adjoining Ephriam Tallent and Thomas Ledford in District 17, except some of the tract (25 acres) that had been conveyed to Riley Jones and Zachariah Downs, February 27, 1886. This is recorded in Book CC - page 425, Macon County Register of Deeds. Allie Ray Baldwin, wife of John Baldwin, was the granddaughter of John Ray, and he spent time with the family in later years. At the time of his death he was living in the home of his son, J. Frank Ray, in Franklin. His funeral service and burial were at the Burningtown Baptist Church. There are no markers for the graves of John and Nancy Sumner Ray. - Thelma Welch Swanson in her John Ray descendants book. Noted events in his life were: • He was involved in a court case in Dec 1847. Appointed as Overseer on Road project • He was involved in a court case in Dec 1848. John Ray filed the report on the road which was accepted by the court. • He was involved in a court case in Jun 1862. Appointed Election Judge for Burningtown • He was involved in a court case on 18 Jun 1864. Appointed Election Judge for Burningtown • He was employed in 1850. Wagon Maker • Juror: Dec 1843, , Macon Co, NC. • Juror: Jun 1854, , Macon Co, NC. • Juror: Jun 1857, , Macon Co, NC. • Juror: 13 Mar 1860, , Macon Co, NC. John married Nancy Sumner [85]4 [MRIN: 44] on 22 Jul 1831 in , Buncombe Co, NC. Children from this marriage were: i. Henry Ray [4886]4 was born in 1832, died on 3 Nov 1889 at age 57, and was buried in Private Propety - Ray Cove, Macon, NC. ii. Naomi Ray [4891]4 was born on 20 May 1834, died on 14 Apr 1918 at age 83, and was buried in Briartown Bapt Church Cem, Macon Co., NC. iii. Rebecca Ray [4895]4 was born in May 1835 and died on 7 May 1908 at age 73. iv. William Ray [4899]4 was born in May 1840, died on 12 Aug 1928 in , Macon Co, NC at age 88, and was buried in Cope Cemetary, Macon Co, NC. v. Jesse Ray [4906] was born in 18444 and died on 5 Jul 1862 at age 18. vi. Wilburn Ray [4907] was born in 1844 in , Macon Co, NC and died in 1876 in , , NC at age 32. 33 vii. Emaline Ray [43]4 viii. Levi Jefferson Ray [4915]4 was born in 1847 in , Macon Co, NC, died on 25 May 1899 in , Macon Co, NC at age 52, and was buried in Burningtown Baptist Church, Macon Co., NC. The cause of his death was Tuberculosis. ix. Charity Jane Ray [4922]12 was born on 3 May 1850 in , Macon Co, NC, died on 6 Apr 1927 in , Macon Co, NC at age 76, and was buried in Briartown Bapt Church Cem, Macon Co., NC. x. John Frank Ray [4927] was born on 14 Jul 1852,4 died on 25 Nov 19244 at age 72, and was buried in Woodlawn Cemetery, Franklin, Macon Co., NC. xi. James Robert Ray [4929] was born on 2 Feb 1858 in , Macon Co, NC,4 died on 20 Apr 1950 at age 92, and was buried in Cowee Baptist Church, Macon Co, NC. 67. Nancy Sumner [85],4 daughter of Samuel Sumner [86] and Sarah Newton [34787], was born in 1817 in , Buncombe Co, NC, died before 1885 in , Macon Co, NC, and was buried in Burningtown Baptist Church, Macon Co., NC. Noted events in her life were: • Baptist - Baptized by elder Merritt Rickman, 27 Sep 1867. Nancy married John Ray [84]4 [MRIN: 44] on 22 Jul 1831 in , Buncombe Co, NC.

SUNDAY FUNNIES!! HUMBUG Magazine. Before Queen Elizabeth Visited America

I’m back on the Bandwagon! In a old HUMBUG Magazine, edited by my old hero the late Harvey Kurtzman I found a story about Queen Elizabeth. It is illustrated by Arnold Roth, who you might recognize as been an artist doing Jazz covers or an Artist for MAD Magazine. This is about the anticipation when Queen Elizabeth was expecting to visit America in the 1950s.

The Atlanta Federal Penitentiary and Coloring Books

Just after I got out of the Navy in 1965 I went to work for the Atlanta New Agency. The Atlanta News Agency distributed magazines and books to stores with a magazine rack in North Georgia. The had about a dozen route men and I was one of them. One time management had 10,000 coloring books loaded in each route man's van. They told us to assign them to any of the customers. The knew most of them would be returned but the good part they would be not in their possession during the official inventory that they would have to pay taxes on. The Atlanta Federal Penitentiary was on my route, and one of my customer. That day I loaded 10,000 coloring books on the receiving dock and the man signed for them. Whew! I did my job. For the next week or two I expected to see the 10,000 coloring books in boxes on the dock for credit. I never did. They kept them.

Charles Hunter

This is taken from a a post 6 years ago. So, if Charlie is still livinfg, he is about 97 now. This is my 3rd cousin, once removed, Charles Milford Hunter. Charley is the son of William Jess and Sadie Ray Collins Hunter. In this picture he is standing on his porch in the Choestoe District of Union County, Georgia, on property he was born on, and so was his father Jess. Once at a Hunter Reunion in Blairsville when I first met Charlie we were making the world smaller, he found out he live in Marietta and he said he was stationed at Marietta at Dobbins Air Force Base. He said the bank kept confusing him with another Charlie Hunter in Marietta who owned a laundry. I don't remember how we zeroed in on his Air Force friend "Smokey" Stover who also is from Marietta and still lived there until he died recently. Smokey was at the time my in-laws handyman. Small world. The old John Hunter Cabin which I have shown pictures of many times on facebook and my blog was sitting on property sold to someone who arranged for it to be demolished. It was the oldest standing dwelling in Union County. Charley stepped up and purchased it and paid to have each board and rock and bricks removed, numbered, and cataloged to later reassemble at a history museum that was being planned for the Choestoe District at an old school house. I haven't heard anything of that lately. Charley used to call me two or three times a week. A few years ago we were in Union County and in the back country, looking for old cemeteries we rode by the street I remember Charley lived on, Hunter Circle. We pulled onto the graveled street. There was only one house on it. It had to be Charley's house. He came to the door. We woke him up, he was taking a nap. He invited us in and we sat down and talked a while about the area, his immediate family and so on. After a while I felt he was just putting up with us so I told him we had to go. He saw us out to the front porch and as I was taking this picture, he said, "I hate to ask you this, but who are you?" Charley will be 91 this coming October. I heard that Charley recently died.

The Queen and Bond movie ? Parachuting and Kicking Ass!

Remember the Bone and Q movie! I stayed on the edge of my seat the whole time.

Queen Elizabeth September 8, 2022

Book Report: WAMPERTERS, KOMA, AND GRANFALLOONS by Kurt Vonnegut.

Book Report: WAMPERTERS, KOMA, AND GRANFALLOONS by Kurt Vonnegut. "Foma" are harmless untruths, intended to comfort simple souls. An example: "Prosperity is just around the corner." A "granfalloon" is a proud and meaningless association of human beings. This is a great book by Kurt Vonnegut. If you are a Kurt Vonnegut fan you might get a kick out of it. It is Kurt being self-centered, like “it’s all about me” kind of book. He did have some interesting comments about being a prisoner in Germany during WWII. He was part of the clean-up crew in Dresden, Gerfmany, when the U.S. bombed that city. War is hell. Actually, it is a collections of speeches he made at various colleges. Probably at least 25% of the book is an interview of him that was in PLAYBOY Magazine. No, he was not the Centerfold.

James Habersham, Georgia Signer of the Georgia Decoration of Independence

*Heh heh. Boys and Ghouls, actually it is not tales from this crypt, it is a tale about the resident of that crypt – in a manner of speaking, heh heh, heh, He was a person wanting independence and did much for the independence movement , but died before the actual Declaration of Independence was, well, declared. The other day while indexing pictures I came across some pictures I had taken in Savannah. The Ole’ Pink House and the Habersham’s crypt brought back some memories. But I did not take the picture of Habersham’s portrait, I found it on Google. In February of 2005 Anna went to a business meeting in Savannah and I tagged along. The five day meeting was to convene on something like the 15th. We arrived a day before and toured Savannah. We ate at Paula Dean’s “The Lady and Sons” that morning and took a tour of the city. On the tour The Ole Pink House Restaurant was pointed out as being the home of James Habersham in Colonial Days. The tour guide added that the house was rumored to be haunted by old James himself. We made a mental note to maybe eat there while we were in Savannah. Somehow, either that night or the next night almost all the people at the meeting decided to have dinner at The Ole’ Pink House. When we arrived a the restaurant we were taken up to the second level and about 8 of us were seated at a big round table with a portrait of James Habersham looking down on us The travel channel did a bit about Hancock’s ghost there and so did PBS. The waiters claim that he would walk around in his clothing of the period and socialize with the guests and sometimes evening playing a trick on them like hiding one’s fork before he or she reached for it, and the list is endless. I wonder if he had a haunted poo-poo cushion that he would slip under some individuals as they were sitting down? We had reservations. Two big tables held ten of us. Our table was round and was in a corner of the a room. Anna's co-staffers table were within arm’s reach. One of the men sitting across from me I will call Tony. Behind Tony, high up on the wall, was a portrait of James Habersham, the original owner and maybe part-timeghost. As we made polite conversation Tony, who struck me as a loud mouth braggart, with lack of anything else to say, brought up the subject of somebody that worked in his office, a handicapped person, a person that was challenged in controlling his body movements and his face movements. Tony said if he got excited talking he would lose control of his facial muscles and spit all over all you as he talked. Tony said he learned long ago to keep his distance or step aside when this guy was about to tell something. And Tony imitated him. Then… One quiet person, lets call him John, between 55 and 60 years of age said, “Tony I think you deserve a hand for that WHAM!!! A big unattached hand landed onto Tony’s empty plate. Everything got deathly quiet. John reached over and picked up his rubber artificial hand and re-attached it. Everybody at the table broke into laughter and some even were having hysterical laughter. I looked up at the portrait of James Habersham and he seemed to be frowning and not amused at all. The rest of the evening Tony was mostly quiet. The hand was an inspiration to many to use some one-ones… like, “John can’t keep his hand to himself."

Me and the Paper Moon

The only "cheese" I saw was fart stains.

HAPPY LABOR DAY!!

DRAGONCON in Atlanta Years Ago

I know this is a busy holiday weekend (including Monday) will not have the time to do all that Atlanta has to offer this weekend. I’m here to help. If Dragoncon is one of those places you wanted to go but can’t work it in, time-wise or budget here are some pictures I took of DragonCon about the year 2000, maybe 1999. My son Adam took the picture of Al Feldstein and me. Al Feldstein, the editor of MAD Magazine for over 30 years.

Al Feldstein and me. I was ready to give him a piece of my mind for taking over a job my hero Harvey Kurtzman created for himself but after talking to Al I found out he was a very congenial guy. I forgave him. He was then living in the Rockys making paintings of the local Native American lore. He has since died.

Denis Kitchen. The owner of Kitrchen Sink Publications. Kitchen Sink published a lot of my kind of books, like MAD, KURTZMAN, and LI’L ABNER COMIC STRIPS. I talked to Denis and he told me in detail his plans of publishing the best of HELP Magazine (Harvey Kurtzman editor). It never happened. I think he might have sold the publishing company.

Skip Williamson. Skip lived in Marietta and we were drinking buddies for a while. Thanks to him he got my son Adam and me into DragonCon free. He created the underground hero SAMMY SMOOT. I think his last gig was painting body paint on nude female dancers at a night club in Atlanta.

SUNDAY FUNNIES!! HELP Magazine's DOGPATCH REVISITED

ART BY Will Elder. Remember Will's work in MAD and ANNIE FANNIE? Story by Ed Fisher. Remember Ed's work in the NEW YORKER?

Our Grandson Benjamin, a double featue

Abercrombie's House

My great grandparents William A. Trammell Hunter (1842-1928) and Emaline Ray (1846-1925)’s son John Rafas Hunter (1870-1940) and his wife Lillie Bell Hill (1875-1973)’s daughter Emma Viola Hunter (1896-1992) married Andrew Joseph Abercrombie (1891-1924) in 1913. Shortly after they were married they moved to Birmingham for Andrew to work in the industry. Andrew died at age 33, a young man. This was their house on Sixes Road, in Cherokee County, Georgia. I like the back porch. It reminds me of the way most back porches were back then.

BLUEBIRED CAFE IN NASHVILLE

The famous Blue Bird Cafe in Nashville. Surprisingly the Blue Bird Cafe is just hole-in-the-wall size at a out of the way shopping center strip. Well, it was out of the way for us anyway, but something we wanted to see. We were on our way to Memphis and stayed overnight in this musical town to see the Blue Bird. We heard several song-writers, singers in a casual informal atmosphere..... we ordered something small and stayed couple of hours and heard some nice music. No big names, that I know of, was there that night. I bet the Blue Bird owners hate customers like us....ones who want to take up their space for hours by spending a couple of dollars when the good paying customers are lined at the door and waiting. Carolyn Ford put a note on the original post "Good Breakfast at the Bluebird Cafe." I didn't know they served breakfasts.

Look Who Held an Umbrella For Me!

Here is a picture of Lillian her husband and former congressman Buddy Darden leaving a party at the Trammell house on Trammell Street in Marietta a couple years ago. This evening we went to a memorial service for my first cousin Alice "Rusty" Sternagle. There were several speakers, most were siblings, but there was one state senator Steve Thompson and one former congressman, Buddy Darden. Alice did a lot of volunteering for the Democratic Party of Cobb County. While Buddy was speaking I thought about the above picture and an event for the party. When we arrived it was raining. I let Anna out at the curb in front of the Trammell House and then I drove to a designated parking area around the corner on Wright Street. And the same was for Buddy and Lillian: He let her out at the curb in front of the house and he also drove to the designated area on right street. We arrived at the same time. Walking back to the Trammell House the rain had increased. Buddy, much taller than I, held his umbrella over my head as we walked and talked. When we arrived he was a little wet and I was dry. I don't think that happens often, a former congressman holding an umbrella for a commoner.

Goodbye Summer Fun Months! Fall is Fun too!