On This Date In History

Above: Dance of Death

On this date, October 13, 1978, James Earl Ray, assassin of Martin Luther King, married Anna Sandhu.

James Earl Ray was behind bars. I think this was probably a symbolic wedding because James Earl Ray was to spend the rest of his life behind bars.

When I think of James Earl Ray and the Martin Luther King assassination I think of a day or two after April the 4th, 1968. On radio and TV the FBI told the public it was believed that the assassin of MLK was in a certain color Mustang and was believed to be heading to the Atlanta area. They said to please call a certain telephone if you see the Mustang.

At the time I worked for Sinclair Refining Company. One of my jobs was to keep figures for the company owned service stations in the Atlanta area. We had a station at Peachtree and 14th, right in the middle of the hippie district.

The manager, Barry, who I talked to regularly about business called me and told me just saw the mustang mentioned. What should he do? I told him to call the number they posted.

He said he just wanted authorization and I told him he had authorization, call it! He said he would do it as soon as he hung up.

And those were the last known words spoken by Barry. He disappeared.

After a year his wife had Barry declared legally dead or abandonment, I forgot which, and put his stuff up for sale, including a PV544 Volvo. I bought it.

Oh, My God!

Last night we went to a function; or maybe it was a celebration. In ever which case, it was catered with good food.

The big room had many big round tables. I think about 8 could sit per table.

We sat with one couple we knew and before it was all over with other couples sat down.

The lady of the other original couple had a low-cut on that accentuate her bountiful cleavage. She was a contrast of herself. She had a cute youthful face but her hair was gray and her husband was an older man. All but the boobs they looked like a grandparent couple.

She wore a small top jacket in. She removed the little jacket. And I suppose after a few stares she felt self conscious and put it back on and buttoned the top buttoned. Then the front was mostly closed but there was just enough flap to allow the to boobs peek out to give one a flirty hint what was underneath.

Maybe it was all Victoria’s Secret hardware.

The last couple to sit down was a young couple. I doubt he they were 30 yet. The guy had a camera bag. He pulled out of the bag a big and nice digital camera. He said he was taking the official pictures.

On his flash he attached a white plastic cover. I think that the white cover would sort of muffled the flash, making a soft light instead of a harsh light.

He said he would start with our table taking pictures. He told the lady with the little top jacket on and her husband he wanted to take their picture.

I think the lady thought it would be more elegant if she removed her little jacket.

When she removed it the photographer first instant verbal expression without thinking was “Oh My God!”

Almost as quick as his expression was, his wife, under the table, gave him a good swift hit in his groin.

Cough!

Then he took our picture.

Pictures of Then

One of the by-products of cleaning out our basement is now I have about a dozen huge boxes of unlabeled and unsorted photographs. Luckily they are in clumps or groups that were taken about the same time.

Now, what am I going to do with them? I don’t have the heart to throw them away. But wait! Yes I can. I can scan them, put them in a digital image state and then throw them away.

So, for posterity purposes I am hiding them in digital maze that will probably never be looked at again but might be around longer than the human race. .. but they could be looked at again – but why?

This will be these pictures last hurrah for a long long time.

I took these pictures in the late 1970s at Sandra’s house. Just by Mr. Harley handing Joe some kind of plaque with his name on it I suspect it is an unsanctioned retirement ceremony. All of them were my co-workers in the Time Keeper Data Collection Site.

The lady above on the right pinning something on the other lady is my old buddy and co-worker Alice. Alice was one week older than me. She lived a fast life. She was always late. If she was so fast how come she was always late? That is because she also lived a disorganized life. I will always think of her with her red wig tilted on her head and one closed because the smoke coming up from the cigarette in her mouth. Alice also had a drinking problem. Alice had a heart of gold. She died of a liver disease.

We knew her as Alice. Her husband, 3 kids, and 19 siblings knew her as Barbara Jean.

I think the other lady, the pinee, is Joe’s wife.



Harry is dead too. Harry used to like to tell me what kind of mess his son got into, or as he used to say, “that boy of mine…” His son was about 25 and lived at home. I met his son once – that boy of his just didn’t seem to have the enthusiasm or gumption to find a job or move out or ask a girl for a date.



Joe was one of my supervisors. Joe was very get old and very sickly. He had high blood pressure and felt better when sucking on a lemon. He was very easy going. Joe would be in his late 80s if he is still alive… which I bet he isn’t

Mr. Harley was very scholarly and very courtly. He seemed always very gentlemanly to make every feel comfortable. Numeric-wise, I think his time on earth has come too.

Who is not pictured because he wasn’t there was Mr. Jonas. Mr. Jonas was Wayne Williams Sunday School teacher. He felt strongly Wayne Williams was innocent but got railroaded because of a screaming public.




Left to right:
Popcorn did not like me very much to start off with. It took him years go adjust to me. His wife was murdered and I sincerely felt his grief. I got emotional when I told him how sorry I was. We spoke on friendly terms after that.

Santes is the guy in the middle. He was a supervisor by default. Santes was easy going and was constantly getting chewed out by the person over him. But he kept on smiling. Santes wife was a postal clerk who looked mean enough to eat nails and spit out the pieces in your face.

The guy on the right is Chuck. Chuck was a ladies man. He thought he was a ladies man and he was. He had several female friends at the Atlanta Post Office . He thought therefore he was? Is that the way it was. He was also a smooth talker, who seemed to talk more than he worked. About ten or so years after I transferred to Marietta one of our ex-coworkers called me and said Chuck was very ill and it was doubtful if he would live much longer. I called him and he was so much out of it I am not sure he knew who I was or not. He died less than a week later.





Sandra was the hostess of this get-together. Sandra was very outspoken and once got fired for fighting a supervisor. Later, she got her job back because it was proven she could not have slugged him, based on the facts he said, thanks to my photographs.

I always admired William. He was a hard honest worker with scruples you wouldn’t believe, yet he didn’t make a big deal of his high morals. One time at the Parcel Post Annex which was miles away from the Atlanta Post Office it was discovered that the timekeepers were doing every thing wrong, and abusing their position. They all were fired and William and I were sent in to run the time keepers office until a new crew could be trained. For several months William and I each worked 12 hours a day, relieving each other, 7 days a week, everyday of the month, for a couple of months with no time off what so ever. Life pretty much sucked then. His initials were WAP, which is what I called him.



Sully was very outspoken in a loud manner. You might say he was usually negative in a positive manner. One time Sully and several of his friends pooled their money and bought a bus. They had plans on using it to carry clubs or organizations to special events. Everyday we got to hear of new problems their bus and their clientele were causing. I think they finally sold it to recoup some of their investment.

One time during a storm a tree fell on Sully’s house. He climbed on top of the house with a chainsaw to cut the limbs in smaller more manageable pieces. He almost did the same for him leg and arm. He had a chain-saw accident which almost killed him. When I transferred to Marietta he was still out.

Now, these pictures, like some of their subjects are put to rest.

Paying Respects

A friend of ours died this Monday. He was the husband of Anna’s retired coworker-friend. We usually saw them in dinner/party surroundings a couple times a year. I always thought he was a warm, sincere, and easy going person… and good looking and healthy looking. I think thick stock of stark white hair looks good on a man or woman.

He had a massive stroke last week. I don’t think he ever gained consciousness. He was 68.

We went to Carmichael Funeral Home in Smyrna tonight to pay our respects. I’m sure he will be missed, but the family was very positive and are not wallowing in their own misery of their lost. I noticed the wife had a couple of emotional moments but her 6 ‘ 5 “ (more or less) son was by her side giving her aid and comfort. Good.

We saw several other friends paying their respects also. We got in a group with them and talked. One elderly lady in the group, that we have known at least ten years or so at the dame dinner-parties as the others there, shook my hand and gracefully said, "It is nice to meet you."

I snapped back "It is nice meeting you too!" Usually when I realize I have been overlooked or ignored I get irritated.

Then she turned to Ann, held out her hand and said, "Haven't we met before? - I seem to recognize you from somewhere..."

I realized she was losing her grip on her memory. I rushed to judgment. I felt rotten.

Still Alive

The other day in the Atlanta Journal and Constitution’s obituaries I read that an ex-coworker Robert England, age 67, had died.

Robert and I worked in the same office in the Atlanta Postal Source Data Center and Time Keeping for about 15 years. We didn’t work together. I mostly worked at night and he always worked in the day time. But we shared pleasantries and gossip anyway.

And we were two of the only four white boys in the office.

Robert and I were distantly related. He was born in Union County, Georgia. Some of the children of my ancestor John Hunter and some of the children of Richard England married each other, and their children inter-married, and after years of that kind of carry-ons you have a Royal line.

Surprisingly, all the inbreeding that occurred did not bring out the worse of the genes but the best of the genes. Most of the Hunters and Englands I met at reunions in Union County college graduates and a good portion of them educators.

Robert was from Union County but lived in expensive Dunwoody, one of the exclusive suburbs near Atlanta. How he could afford that on a postal salary I will never know. And he dressed in yuppie clothes too.

One time in the mid 90s we ran into Robert and his wife at a country store in the very community in Union County that our infested. Robert said he had just retired.

In 2001 I was in that same store when showing Bluto that section of Georgia and a big Li’l Abner type of lug behind the cash register wanted to talk University of Georgia football with me and I realized I was wearing a UGA Bulldog ball cap, so I faked it.

When I read the obituaries and see that friends, co-workers, or relatives die I usually call someone that knew the person that had died and we could share a few moments talking about the deceased.

But, in this case I had a sudden realization. I may the last living one of 35 technicians that is still standing. I left there in about 1981 and transferred to Marietta. Then I was the youngest.

Each person I thought of to call – “nope, he/she is dead too”. There was one person I am not sure about, Catherine C., which I called “CC”. The last time I heard from her she called me to tell me an ex-coworker, Chuck had died. That was about ten years ago. CC was is about 12 years older than I, which now, would translate that she is about 77 years of age.. chances are she is dead too. I hope not.

One interesting thing about CC was she belonged to an aggressive black church and she was an “Usherette” and they all dressed alike, kind of like the a group of harmonizers would dress alike or something. The church had no male ushers. I think the idea was that perky female probably would get people to reach deeper in their wallets during collecting the plate time.

I thought about finding her number on the internet’s White Pages but just haven’t.. I hate to find out she is dead too, if she is. As it is now, she is still alive in my mind.

At one time it was fun being the youngest person of your co-workers, but in the end It is lonely.