Click on image to make them look better.
C.W. Conner in his tux-tshirt.
We went to a
social gathering Wednesday. .
C.W. Conner
gave the middle-day social at his reclusive hadaway near Burnt Mountain near Ellijay. I would call it a Middle-Day Tea, but there
was no tea. It was just come, hang out
on C.W.'s front porch and talk. Talk
about old things we remember and try to think of things we couldn't remember -
that part was almost like "21 Questions". We did not have tea but we had beer and wine
instead. It was a relaxing day.
C.W. owns
about 26 acres near the foot of a mountain, but you cannot see fifty feet
beyond the house he built because to dense trees and
foliage. However, at a distance you can
hear a donkey and some cattle make their
sad sorrowful sounds.
C.W.'s
little gravel road leading to the paved road is probably near a mile long. If you hear a car coming you know company is
coming, his house is the only one there.
Do you
remember the 1940s and 50s, the North Georgia mountaineers had a reputation of
making moon shine and bootlegging.
Times have changed, Whiskey is
legal now. However, in some places the
spirit is still there. Now, it is drugs,
not being hauled by souped up cars but in airplanes. C.W.'s
neighbor was expecting a shipment
and the airplane pilot or crew mistakenly dropped it on the wrong
property and the wrong person at the sheriff's department received the
call. I say wrong person, because some
of them were paid off to look the other way.
The bag of drugs that fell from the sky was traced to C.W.'s neighbor
and he ended up going to prison. When he
got out he went in the chicken business.
He now has six very long buildings that houses chickens. W.C. said his neighbor is a good friend and
every once in a while they would go to town and have lunch. The chicken-man either lives with his mother
or his mother lives with him. Either
way, the mother bakes cakes and pies and
puts in W.C.'s mailbox from time to time, their mailboxes are next to each
other on the highway.
Next to the
neighbor's chicken houses up on a hill is a trailer which we almost went to by
mistake. W.C. said the man who lived
there once bought a computer and printer and started printing money. He was caught and went to prison. W.C. said he is a great person, and he would
do anything for anybody, even give you the shirt off his back. I was thinking about dropping by and visit him and ask for a
couple of $20 bills to eat dinner on the way back to Marietta.
One lady
there named Pat knew me well, but I didn't remember her. She was married to the late George
Hobby. She brought up things about our
neighbors and immediate kin that I had either forgot about or never knew..
Another lady, also named Pat, was a co-worker with Anna at the Air Force Contracts section at
Lockheed; they are both retired DOD employees.
It is a
small world.
C.W. Conner
is a self taught artist. He made a name
for himself in the folk-art world. He has rivaled the late fellow north Georgian artist Howard Finster. He is very good and some of
the stuff he puts into his art is symbolic and metaphoric .
Also some things he puts into his
art does not mean anything to anybody but him.
An enjoyable day.
C.W. & Neal Lawrence
Every front porch mountain party needs a token handsome brute. That's me!
The Phantom of the Mountains
Neal Lawrence & Tommy Townsend
Mr Fishy Himself, Jackie. A.K.A. Paul Roper
C.W.'s Studio
C.W.'s Latest (click on picture to make it larger, to see it better)
C.W. and Phyllis
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