Tuesday, April 30, 2019

THE GOLDEN HORN Revisited - Again, copied and Pasted

The doctor TV series RESIDENT is filmed in Atlanta.  The show a picture of the High Museum at Peachtree and 15th Streets as their hospital.  Last night they had an aerial view of the hospital-museum and scanned away to 15th street.  There, I got a glimpse of the building THE GOLDEN HORN COFFEE HOUSE was in that we visited once when we were teenagers, I made a blog post on it, here it is again, copied and pasted.

Back in either 1959 or 1960 my friend Monty called me and wanted to know if I wanted to go to a Beatnik coffee house in Atlanta. “Beatnik coffee house?” I said. I wasn’t keen on going out on a school night when it was going to something I knew nothing about – in some of our misadventures back then when we went to a place we knew nothing about we suddenly had to scatter or suffer some consequences, and I was afraid this might be the case this time, and Atlanta is/was a long way away for a school night.

Neither of us knew anything about beatniks or coffee houses. From TV we figured the males were bearded, wore berets and the females had long straight hair and wore black stockings. In the coffee houses we knew from TV all they did was hang around zonked on opium or espresso coffee and recited beat poetry. The most important lure for us was that we thought the females in their black stockings were all opened minded and all for free love….. which is just what a teenage boy would want.

So Monty, I, and two more friends headed to Atlanta in Month’s mother’s Volvo PV544 on a dark foggy night.

The place we were looking for was The Golden Horn on 15th Street. We found it without any problem. The Golden Horn was located on the street level floor of an granite building that was a three story apartment building, each level above street level had a porch or patio. It was across the street from the High Museum which was also known as the Atlanta Art Museum. The museum was facing Peachtree Street, but the side of it was along side 15th Street.

Monty parked the car down the street about a block, you never know if what might happen that we would have to leave suddenly.

We went in. To the left was a table full of tasty looking cakes, and behind that was a bar that did the serving of beverages. A lean lady with long black hair and black stockings came up and asked us did we want a seat and we said we did. Yep, she was just what we expected.

The room was not that large. Maybe 10 or 15 tables in a dim lit room. On the far end was a small low stage. We sat down and expected someone to come out on stage and play some bongo drums or maybe recite poetry, or whatever beatniks do.

The people at the other tables seemed quiet, chatting among themselves. I would guess they were college students, Georgia Tech was only a few blocks away.

The dame with the long black straight hair and black stockings asked what did want and we said coffee. This is a coffee house – right? She brought back four coffees and our bill.

A man in white skin tight leotards and a unicorn head climb up on stage and music was played… it was flute music. The man with the unicorn head starting lightly dancing, at times it was like a ballet because he would leap and tip toe and piloret.... all this to classical flute music.

We were not music appreciators by any means. Any thing musical we like was on the top 40 radio stations. Our minds had not yet matured to appreciate good music or interpretive dancing.

Monty would later become a disc jockey.

Our whispering conversation went something like this: “Good god! We came all way down here to see this shit?”
“Is this a queer joint?”
“No, there is a couple of girls here.”
“How much is the bill? Lets pay and get the hell out of here!”
“Damn! It is sixteen dollars!”
“Sixteen dollars?”
“yes – that coffee must cost $4 a cup.”
“Shit! Now what?”

The thing is, we didn’t have $16 between us. We had something like $3 and some change.

So, we made plans. While we were whispering making our plans the woman brought another round of coffees and added it to the bill.

The table with the cakes were on a table, just a leap from the front door. We decided we would get up and stand over the cakes as if we were planning on which cake to pick out and run out the door the first chance we got.

All four of us got up, went over to the table and stood there looking at the cakes. The wench with the long straight hair came up to watch us. To make it look like we were dead serious on picking out a cake I put my hand out, finger extended and said, “Hmmm Lets see….”

She interrupted me by putting a sharp butcher knife up to my face and say, “Touch a cake and off goes your finger honey!”
I let out a nervous laugh.
The bitch said, “You think I’m joking!” and jabbed the knife in midair within inches of my stomach. I backed up.

She jabbed at me again and I backed up some more….. how in the heck did I find myself in this mess? I thought.
About that time the door slammed and we both looked at the door. We could see my three friends heads bobble by the window as they were running.

Now she was mad. She jabbed again and I turned around and ran. Somehow to get away from her knife tricks I found myself on the stage with the unicorn, then she joined us. People in the audience were laughing. I jumped off the stage with her behind me swiping at me.

This time the door was in front of me and she was in the back of me. I opened the door and ran out and ran down towards the car, but I was running scared and caught up with them before they reached it.

We all had a good laugh when I told them what happened and we all climbed into the car. Monty said, “I lost my wallet.”
“What did you do with it?”
“I had it out when we were counting our money. I must have dropped it on the floor.”
“Let it go, the dollar you had in there isn’t worth it.”
“I an’t leaving without my wallet. My phony driving license is in there, do you know how long it took me to draw the Seal of Georgia on that thing?”

Me: “I’m not going back in there for anything.”

We agreed the other three would go back in and demand the wallet back and I would be out side with the Volvo running, and as soon as they ran out they would hop in and away we would go – back home.

They went in and I sat in the drivers seat with the engine running, one foot on the clutch and the other foot ready to stomp down on the gas. I was the get-away driver.

They ran out laughing. Monty had his wallet, which he put in his back pocket.

“How did you get it?” I asked.

As a last second inspiration, Monty and his two companions when they entered The Golden Horn fell down to their knees and began crawling all over the room squealing like pigs. Everybody cracked up laughing, even the witch with the long straight hair and butcher knife. While crawling, Monty made a straight line to the table we were at and saw his wallet on the floor and snatched it up.

Alls wells that ends well.

Ed Petty Shot & Killed Jim Huffman - 1920

It is always interesting to read about a relative who made the newspapers.  Sometimes it gives you certain bragging rights or claim to fame  and sometimes not.
This news article is about Ed Petty of Murray County, Georgia.  I am almost certain that my siblings and our first cousin Pettys are related to all the Pettys of Murray County, around 1920s.  According to my genealogy index file there were only two Ed Pettys in 1920.  Edmund Petty lived in Texas, which of course we can scratch him and the other one is Edward Harland Petty, born 1910 in Murray County, his grandfather was brother to our great grandfather Daniel Webster (1843-1913).  However,  that would put Edward Harland Petty age 10, killing a man and stealing whiskey.  I don’t think so.
So who are parents of Ed Petty?  I don’t know yet.  I am not sure if any one wants to claim him.

From the Chatsworth Times, Thursday, August 25, 1920


Tragedy Occurs at Still Near Ball Ground Church  Petty Sill at Large.

Ed Petty shot and killed Jim Huffman at a still one mile north of the Ball Ground  church and a quarter from the homes of the two parties Wednesday morning between 10 and 11 o’clock.
There were three or four eye witnesses to the tragedy, and as far as can be learned at this time the shooting was a result of a quarrel between the men over accusation by Huffman that Petty  had stolen a quantity of liquor from Huffman.  It is said that Huffman, armed with a mash stick, was threatening to beat Petty’s brains out when the latter pulled his pistol and shot Huffman.  He died thirty minutes later.
Sheriff B.H. Wilbanks went to the scene of the killing Wednesday afternoon.  At the time of going to press had not yet apprehended.

Monday, April 29, 2019

James M. Prance

James M. Prance. This is my great-great grandfather-in-law, on the Square to sell his cotton, cir 1920.

Sunday, April 28, 2019

SUNDAY FUNNIES!! Robert Crumb's Bulgaria, 1965

Robert Crumb visited Bulgaria and here is his take, published in HELP Magazine, in 1965.  I'm sure things have change there since then.

Saturday, April 27, 2019

An Evening at the Theater

Yesterday evening we went to the Elm Street Cultural Arts Village in Woodstock to see the musical BRIGHT STAR. BRIGHT STAR has Steve Martin connections. He wrote the story. It is claimed to be a true story. The coincidental or synchronizing of people had to be divine intervention – I’ll stop abruptly, I don’t want to spoil it.

Before the play started several people sat behind us. One lady on a walker asked us could she park her walker “here” and we said go ahead. She was very talkative to the people she came with and some other people that walked by. She never met a stranger. Some things she said, pointing out people she knew, that she was a Woodstock native. At intermission I turned around and asked her was she a Woodstock native. If she said yes I was going to “name drop” some relatives in the area, she would probably know them. She happily said she lives in Canton and is from Marietta. We talked about the play and this and that. Then we ran out of trying to think of things to talk about and quit and I turned around. She kept on talking of course, to her friends she was sitting with. I heard her say “They got a restraining order against me.”

I wanted to turn around and ask her “What for?” but decided against it.

Not that it matters, but I started counting actors the play involved – they kept moving getting me confused and starting over, but I think they had 14 to 16, maybe less, because some played duel rolls and five or six musicians, again some played more than one instrument, and some of the musicians had dancing rolls, which also fumbled up my counting.

Vancouver Canada August 2018

On our Alaskan trip we flew into Vancouver and floated out.

Friday, April 26, 2019

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.

Tuesday, April 23, 2019

Tade and Car

Octavia "Tade" Tyson Carr of Acworth

No photo description available.

Tade is our grandmother Minnie Victoria Tyson Hunter's (1879-1948) sister. 

Sunday, April 21, 2019

Atlantic City Boardwalk East Parade 1964

When I was stationed in Lakehuist, New Jersey, one Spring Sunday Morning we were wondering how we were going to entertain ourselves that pretty day.  One of us (not me) said, “I know!  Lets go to Atlantic City to the Easter Parade!”

I never heard of such.  But apparently it was well known tradition.
Atlantic City Boardwalk was only about 40 miles away.

I’m glad somebody thought of that.  Real people dressed up in their finest putting on a strutting show.  It was a sight to behold.  We as gawkers loved the parade and so did the gawkees.

We did not take pictures that I remember but to give you an idea of the dress think of Kentucky Derby fashion and Pimps.

Another HAPPY EASTER wish...

Happy Easter!

SUNDAY FUNNIES!! The Piranha Club by Bud Grace

I miss the Piranha Club comic strip by Bud Grace.  It  was, in my opinion, the best daily comic strip of modern day.  It made fun of the self-centering of people and their natural greed.  I think creator Bud Grace hung it up to take on a more meaningfully and  profound projects:  Working on his house and boat.

Psst!  Click on each comic strip to make it large and readable (and hopefully laughable).

Saturday, April 20, 2019

Luther Foster

This is of Anna's grandfather's brother Luther Foster and his wife Lilly May Cook. Anna's late mother Marie made very meticulous notes on the back of the pictures. This one points out that Lilly May died almost eleven months after they were married.