Letter to Santa

A True Christmas Story featuring my late sister Frances.

In the early 1950s when I was in the 6^{th th} or 7th^th grade and my sister Frances was a teenager in high school.

During Christmas season the local newspaper, THE MARIETTA DAILY JOURNAL published letters

To Santa every day.

Frances, a witty person, but quiet, and shy told her close friends she was going to write Santa in care of THE MARIETTA DAILY JOURNAL’S LETTERS TO SANTA PAGE this:

 

Dear Santa,

I don’t want much for myself, but would you please send my parents a son-in-law?

From,

Frances Hunter

It appeared in THE MARIETTA DAILY JOURNAL.  She had nothing to do with  it.  THE MARIETTA DAILY JOURNAL put it on a news network and in went nation-wide.  Frances started receiving proposals, care of the Marietta Journal daily.  She received a sack full.

Frances was horrified.

THE MARIETTA JOURNAL photographer and reporter visited our home on Manget Street.   I was jumping around saying “Frances is more popular than Margaret Truman!”  (Margaret Truman, daughter of then-President Harry Truman, was getting a lot of press over her piano playing.

In the interview my parents told the reporter to put an end to it, it was only a joke that someone went too  far with it.

Whoever sent that letter never admitted it.  I think it was either Barbara S.  or one of the Hobby brothers.

Click!

 

WOW!  Modern technology!

We had a roofer  over to talk about a new roof for our house.  To find out the square footage of the top of our house he merely got on his phone.  Then way way up in orbit a satellite measured the top of our house and reported back. 

I was impressed, not only of the exactness of the report but also the fact that an aged good old country boy knew the right buttons on his phone to push.  I can’t even figure out what button to push to not make a loud click when I take a picture.

Petty Family's Big Rock

 I remember my mother telling us about when she was in her early teen years her family lived on a farm in Murray county, Georgia, near Cohutta and Varnell. On their farm was a huge boulder that was a good backdrop for pictures.

If I remember correctly before the big rock was where it was in the pictures, in that spot there was an opening of a cave. In the first room of the cave was Indian lore and a footprint on the ceiling. She said her brothers went further back and by flashlight or whatever, saw a huge body of water.

Then, their father, sold rights to the Georgia Department of Transportation to dynamite the area for stones to crush to use for the Cleveland Highway that ran near their home.

During the dynamiting the huge rock or boulder covered the entrance of the cave.

I’m reading the book MURRAY COUNTY HERITAGE compiled by the Murray County Historical Committee.

I just came across this on page 2:

“In 1934 a large cave was discovered and was thought to contain lost Indian treasures. Professor J.R. Stull was told of the cave by an aged Cherokee in Utah followed markings on tree to the spot where some “stone images” were found.”

I wonder if this cave on my grandparents’ farm is the same as Prof. J.R Stull heard about.

Pictures: (1)Opal and Janie courting (2) ?, Janie, and Osmo; (3) Sarah, Roy, & Leonard; (4) Sarah and Grandma Petty (Frances Viola Ridley Petty).

SKIPper & Me

 MY DOG SKIPper #2.

This my second dog named Skipper. Skipper #1 got ran over and killed on Atlanta Steet, near Hick’s Grocedry.

The muscular Tarzan look alike with Skipper is me. Where I went Skipper went, unless he had romance on his mind or a place he wasn’t allowed, like the movie theater, school, etc... Back then there was no leash law.

He was something of a Super Dog. Almosr every time we rode off to town in the car, he would chase us. The only time I heard my daddy cuss is when he looked in the rearview mirror downtown and see Skipper running behind us. We lived out near the 4-lane, almost 2 miles away.

Each time we would pull over, open the trunk, and Skipper jumped in. One time we routinely did that and forgot about him until about 3 or 4 days and we missed him it occurred to us he might be in the trunk of the car. We ran out to car and slowly opened it afraid of what we might see. Out jumped Skipper, he did a quick shake like he was all wet and wanted to be petted.

Another time around the corner on Glover Street there was a place we called “The Hollow”. We thought it was haunted. It was a clearing adjacent to the woods. At night it was always pitched black because of moon shadows. We used to dare each other to go up in hollow in the dark. One time I took the dare. When I got in the darkness I saw a pair of green eyes rushing towards me. I kept my eyes on the green eyes coming towards me and tripped. The green eyes landed on me and started licking my face. It was Skipper!

Because Skipper coming and goings as he pleased my parents had a chain-linked fence put up in our back yard to keep Skipper grounded, so to speak. After the chain-link fence was installed, Skipper jumped over it with no problem

Skipper was a lady’s man, or dog. There were several young puppies in the neighborhood from time to time that had Skipper’s markings and same white and black markings.

Roy Petty's Boys

 

This is Billy and Rodney Petty, sons of my uncle Roy Petty and his wife Dorothy Humes, about 1959. This same Christmas card photo was used as an insurance advertisement and was in Saturday Evening Post. At the time they lived in New York City.

Later they moved to Carmel, NY, where Roy was over Clear Pool's Boy Camp, a Heinz Foundation project. The second picture is of me and some Navy friends visiting Clear Pool Camp and played cowboys and Indians. Rodney and Billy and in that picture also. That was about 1964.

The color picture was taken about 1985 of Billy and his wife Joy when they visited Marietta. They live in Colorado.

PS click on the picture of the boys camp. You see the dog without a tail. On a previous visit when I was in the Navy we were on walking on a road that went around a lake and a car went around the curve past and almost hit us, but swerved and hit the dog. The mishap cut the dog's tail off.

SUNDAY FUNNIES!! CONFIDENTIAL Mag as seen by MAD #25

Torn from the pages of MAD Magazine #25, story by editor Harvey Kurtzman and illustrated 

 by Will Elder

 

Congressman Holding Umbrella for a Commoner

 vHere 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.

Uncle Osmo Petty on a Postcard

 We have been uncluttering or un-hoarding lately. I have been looking at thousands of pictures deciding what is to be thrown away, what to use, and what to set aside to decide later.

This is a postcard. It is my late uncle Osmo and according to the back an “ex-wife”.