Stores & Memories AS TOLD BY The People op Lee County, Georgia Past & Present The Caboose Came Last, is about the people living in present day Lee County. Land, located in Southwest Georgia lying between the Flint and Chattahoochee Rivers, was obtained by treaty from the Creek Indians in 1825. This territory was designated as the County of Lee by the state legislature in 1826. The original territory included all or parts of the present day counties of Lee, Quitman, Randolph, Stewart, Sumter, Terrell, Webster, Schely, Chattahoochee, Macon, Clay and Marion. Lee County today is much smaller, but more densely populated. Soon after A Train Runs Through It was published, it became obvious that there were other stories about Lee County that should be told. Hence, The Caboose Came Last, was conceived to record some of these stories. The Lee County Chamber of Commerce undertook the task of assembling and publishing these additional bits of history that give a glimpse of this formerly rural and small town country that is changing to suburban community and commercial center at a rapid rate. The rural and small town life-style as reflected on these pages is fast slipping away. This is an attempt to preserve the memory of those years gone by. In 1981, the Lee County Historical Society embarked on the ambitious task of compiling a comprehensive history of our county. This effort resulted in, History of Lee County, Georgia. The Caboose Came Last and its predecessor, A Train Runs Through A focuses more on human interests stories and memories of the past. It contains humor, tragedy, reports of hard times and stories from a time when things moved more slowly and neighbors genuinely cared for each other. The railroad has always played an important role in the history of Lee County. The rail line between Americus and Albany was completed in 1857, by the Southwestern Railroad Company. It followed the high ground between the Kinchafoonee and Muckalee Creeks, much to the disappointment of the citizens of Starksville, which was then the county seat. Later the county seat was moved to what is now Leesburg. The railroad connected Lee County to the rest of the world. Trains took young men and women off to war, carried graduating classes on their senior trips, took families on vacations, delivered and picked up mail, transported farm products and delivered supplies, etc. The depot was a center of activity. It not only served passengers but was a freight depot, telegraph office and a place to socialize and get the latest gossip. These stories are about happenings in an area that has been much impacted by trains and the railroad. Thus, the names of this book and its predecessor. When the caboose disappears in the distance, you have missed the train. Dont let that happen to you. Get on board and enjoy these stories from the past. Robert A. Clay, Jr. LEE COUNTY PUBLIC LIBRARY 3 1032 00553155 9 me CcJbocse Came Last Redbone Library 104 Thundering Springs Road Leesburg, GA 31763 * Text Copyright 2007 by Lee County Chamber of Commerce 0-9761817-1-1 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any other information storage or retrieved system, without the specific permission, in writing, from the Lee County Chamber of Commerce, except by a reviewer who wishes to quote brief passages in connection with a review written for inclusion in a magazine, newspaper, or broadcast. For further information please contact Lee County Chamber of Commerce 100 B Starksville Avenue, North Leesburg, Georgia 31763 (229) 759-2422 Dedicated to Page and Patricia Tkarp Wko originally proposed the idea of an oral history of Lee County and who worked tirelessly on A Train Runs Through It and The Caboose Came Last and who contributed unselfishly to the religious, cultural, educational, and governmental affairs of this county. Table of Contents A Train Must Have a Depot...................................1 My First Paying Job.........................................2 My Favorite Teacher.........................................3 My Friend Marvin............................................3 Family Stories I Heard or Lived as a Child..................4 A Day Remembered............................................8 The Leesburg Methodist Church Bazaar.......................10 Jeff Davis.................................................11 Lee County Beauties And Close Friends......................11 Fred.......................................................12 Moving to Smithville.......................................13 Where Were You.............................................16 Mr. Charlies Store........................................17 Riley Claud McRee..........................................18 The Haunted House..........................................20 Hatfield Versus The Mosquito - Another Hatfield Feud.......28 Only In a Small Town.......................................29 Small Town Caring..........................................30 A Cold Hand................................................30 Foots....................................................31 Wheres Larry..............................................31 Sun Pond.................................................. 31 Fishin and Other Stuff....................................32 Family Life in the City of Leesburg........................33 Walter and Geneva..........................................37 Here Comes Bonnie!!!!!.....................................38 Miss Kate Harris, Unofficial Historian.....................38 A Joke That Backfired......................................41 Lee County Primary School Named National School of Excellence.41 vi Mama and the Squirrel.......................................43 Gathering of the Greens.....................................45 Riding to the Cotton Gin....................................45 Small Town Memories.........................................47 A Grandmothers Last Gift...................................47 Cookie Fun..................................................48 The All Important Road Trip.................................48 Xena........................................................48 Miss Pauline..............................................50 Ethelind Cannon.............................................51 Frank.......................................................52 Hannahs Story: The Life of an Angel........................53 A Journey in the Night......................................59 The so Called Hill..........................................60 City Girl to Farm Girl......................................61 Saturday Night Square Dances and the Love of my Life........63 Traffic Lights and a Doctor.................................65 Fond Memories of Leesburg High School.......................67 Bulger......................................................74 Our Samantha................................................75 Georgia on my Mind........................................76 Hard Times..................................................79 Would You Believe.. .Cheerleading...........................80 Happenings..................................................81 Womanless Weddings..........................................81 Hobby Shows.................................................82 Talking Movies..............................................82 Driving Ms. Susie...........................................83 Hog Wild in Lee County......................................84 Raising Cane in Lee County..................................84 A Fishing Trip to Remember..................................85 English Cadets in Leesburg, Georgia.........................86 Four-More Club..............................................87 Cookville Neighbors and Palmyra Community Club..............87 Weds Sweetheart of his Youth...............................89 Remembering Gussie..........................................90 vii Leesburg, Now my Home.......................................91 Otis Hill Chevrolet Dances..................................93 Picking Peanuts.............................................93 A Tale About Another Tail...................................93 Living in Lee County........................................94 Pauline Page Tharp: A Treasured Memory......................95 I Miss the Caboose..........................................96 The 1960 State Basketball Contenders........................97 Jerry, the Dog Who Went to Church...........................98 Williams-Fox Stop on the Train Line Through Lee County, Georgia.99 Hurricane Flossy...........................................101 Shooting Tales.............................................102 Tornado....................................................103 More Shooting Tales........................................103 Telephone..................................................104 The Move...................................................104 Fun in the 1940s and 1950s...............................105 PK Paperboy................................................108 A Year to Remember.........................................111 A Godly Lady and Two Boys..................................111 A Town Like Mayberry.......................................118 The Duck Inn Cafe..........................................119 When I was Growing up in Lee County........................120 Smithville Elementary School.......,............................121 A Snake on the School Bus..................................124 My Best Friend Kelly.......................................124 A Whopper of a Hog.........................................126 Shell be Coming Around the Comer when She Comes................126 A Thousand Pounds Worth of Bacon...........................127 Why My Daddy Did Not Chew Gum..............................127 The Goat Man...............................................128 School.....................................................129 Just Another Day at Lee State Prison.......................130 A Special Bicycle..........................................133 School Days... Do you Remember............................ 133 Where I was when I Learned President JFK was Assassinated..134 viii Thirty Years Ago... 1977-2007 Current Lee County Primary School Administration Began their Careers in Lee County..............135 Memories......................................................137 Memories of the R.R. Green Family.............................138 Mamas Special Gift...........................................140 Can you Believe It............................................145 A Brief History of Kudzu......................................145 Cookville Remembered..........................................146 My Special Parents............................................148 Joseph and Helen..............................................151 Beware! Snake Stories.........................................152 Lee County Presidential Look-Alike............................154 Growing up in Rural Southwest Georgia.........................156 My Only Whipping..............................................157 I Remember When...............................................157 GoneFishin...................................................158 The Days and Nights of The Albany Herald Carriers in Lee County. 1977- 1982 and 1985-2003............................................160 History of Smithville, Georgia................................162 Marines Wife - Back Home.....................................163 A Problem Solved..............................................165 Reminiscing...................................................167 A Dream of a Class Reunion....................................170 Tales Told by Big George Moreland.............................172 Those were the Days...........................................174 Old Blind Bunny Boy...........................................175 ANice Voice...................................................176 Growing up at the Intersection of Highway 32 and Palmyra Road.177 Remembering PaPa..............................................178 My Best Friend - Greta........................................179 Two who Loved Lee County......................................180 Clay springs, a Centennial Family Farm........................182 Audrey B. Poole, From Stagecoach to Airplane..................184 Class Trip Memories...........................................185 Marching Band at Lee County...................................186 German Prisoners in Lee County................................187 IX Love in a Mayonnaise Jar...................................188 Thomas Page Tharp, An Honorable Man of Many Achievements...190 Tobacco Fields.............................................191 Mr. Clines Cabin..........................................192 The River..................................................193 The Lady who Touched Many Lives in Lee County..............197 Swimming Holes.............................................198 A Lesson Well Learned......................................199 Serving as City Clerk......................................200 Sunshine Comer.............................................204 Our Town - Leesburg........................................206 Who Stole the Tarts?.......................................211 The Blue Heron.............................................212 Johnny Groover and The Slow Poke.........................213 Lee County High School Debate Program 1972-1990............216 Memories of Growing up in Leesburg.........................218 Recollections............................................ 220 Tune Passes and Things Change - A History of the Hatfield Home Place...221 The James T. Hooks Place: A Self-sufficient Farm...........226 ATributetomy Sister-Irma Leola Stamps Kielsmeier...........227 Hi Yo Silver...............................................230 Memories of a South Alabama Childhood......................231 Checking Fishing Baskets...................................232 School House Memories......................................233 Dog Tales..................................................234 Going to Chicago...........................................235 Ghost Busters..............................................236 History of the Bell Family Lee County, Georgia.............237 ATubing Experience.........................................241 Memories of Living in Lee County...........................242 Memories of Leesburg.......................................242 Aromas of the Past.........................................243 The Red Kirby Family.......................................244 Thanks for the Memories and the Two Books..................245 x The Caboose Came Last Committee Front row left to right: Sandra Stocks, Jade Arrington, Patricia Tharp, Page Tharp. Back row left to right: Becky Belcher, Patricia Bence, Robert A.Clay, Jr., Glenna Hatfield, Wanda Halstead, Lesley Barbosa, Elizabeth Young. Not pictured: Laura Barbosa. xi Project Committee and Staff Committee of Story Collectors Committee: Glenna Hatfield, Robert A. Clay, Jr., Sandra Stocks, Wanda Halstead, Elizabeth Young, Page Tharp, Patricia Tharp, Jade Arrington, Lesley Barbosa, Becky Belcher, Laura Barbosa, Patricia Bence Without the cooperation of those who graciously shared their stories, this book could have never been printed. We sincerely appreciate those who took the time and effort to support this project. The Committee would like to give a special thanks to Jade Arrington and Lesley Barbosa of the Lee County Chamber of Commerce for their efforts in assisting the Committee with the production of this book. The Committee would also like to thank Shannon DeReus for the layout of the front and back covers. The Committee extends a special thanks to Phil Maxfield for the design of the front cover. Preface The Caboose Came Last... Have you ever looked at old photos and wondered who the people were or what their lives were like? As a tribute to Lee County residents, past and present, we are proud to share this compilation of photos, essays, stories and most importantlymemories. As you read through the pages, it is our hope that you will recognize someone or someplace in your own life, that a memory will be jogged, a laugh brought forth, a tear wiped away- be it happy or sad. The committee members certainly were able to recall earlier times. This is not a book to be read quickly but rather to be savored slowly with many pauses for Remember When... Our deepest gratitude and appreciation to all of those who contributed. So grab a big glass of sweet tea and settle down on the front porch swing for a leisurely stroll down memory lane. Becky Belcher Debra Smith xiii A Train Must Have a Depot As railroad tracks spread out across the country, the train depots inevitably followed. Events leading to the construction of the present Leesburg train depot began in 1857 when the rail line between Americus and Albany was completed. The rail line came by Sneeds Store. A stopover for stagecoaches to change horses. A depot and post office were built at Sneeds Store, which was near the present location of Leesburg. Henry P. Wooten was named Postmaster at Sneed in 1857. Subsequently, the name of the settlement was changed to Wootens Station. In 1873 the county courthouse was relocated from Starksville to Wootens Station. The town was renamed Leesburg in 1874. Nothing is known about the original train station that served Wootens Station. The present depot was built in 1895 or 1896, sources differ. It was located near the center of Leesburg between the railroad tracks and what is now U.S. Highway 19. It was probably constructed by railroad carpenters as was the custom at that time. The functional building was the style typically built to serve multiple purposes in small towns in the rural south. The depot was a center of activity for many years. In addition to serving train passengers, it was a freight depot and a telegraph office. Mail came to and left Leesburg by train. A hand drawn cart was used to transport the mail between the depot and the post office. Furlow Adams pulled the cart for many years. Thousand of Sears Roebuck orders were delivered to Leesburg by train. Since the back yards of several homes extended to the railroad right- of-way, it was not uncommon for hobos to knock on the back door of these homes asking for food. This was especially true during the depression of the 1930s. Because of the generosity of the citizens of Leesburg the hobos were seldom disappointed. During the 1930s and early 1940s it was traditional for graduating classes of Leesburg High School to take a senior trip. Miss Mary Dance, senior class sponsor, chaperoned the classes to far away places such as Washington, D.C. and New York City. The Leesburg depot was the point of departure for these excursions. In the 1930s word was received that a steamline (diesel) train would be coming through Leesburg. School turned out to see this sight. Students were lined up along the tracks to await the arrival of the train, which was said to be traveling 60 miles per hour. So as not to become dizzy and fall as the train passed by at this high rate of speed, students were told to sit down as the train approached and remain seated until it had passed. 1 Numerous farm products were shipped from the Leesburg depot, including pulpwood, timber, watermelons, peas, grain, cotton, etc. In addition to the mail, the depot received farm supplies, fertilizer; merchandise for the stores and a variety of miscellaneous items. During World Wars I and II the railroad transported large amounts of military equipment and thousands of soldiers through Leesburg. Tragedy occurred a few yards from the depot in February, 1928. Two promising young men, Paul Forrester and Charles Lee, were returning from a date on a cold winter night. They stopped at the depot to warm themselves by the pot belly stove and catch up on the latest gossip. Upon leaving the depot, they failed to hear or see the Dixie Flyer approaching the crossing and drove out in front of it. They were both killed. A famous all-Pullman passenger train, the Dixie Flyer, made its way through Leesburg twice a week as it traveled between Chicago and Miami. This service began in 1908 and continued to 1954. The busiest time for the Dixie Flyer was during the 1920s when thousands of northerners regularly traveled to Florida to escape the cold winters. Other passenger trains traveling the Chicago to Miami route were the Dixie Limited, Dixie Express, Dixie Hager and Dixie Mail. As ridership fell, all of these trains were discontinued by the mid 1950s. As conditions changed and business declined, one by one, the passenger service, the telegraph office, the mail drop, and the freight service were eliminated. By 1970 railroad functions of the depot had ceased. Since then the old depot has been used for a number of purposes including a public library, city hall, fire station, print shop and centennial store. In 1960, the Central of Georgia Railroad sold the depot building to the City of Leesburg and leased the land where the building is located to the city. In 2006, the land was acquired by the city. Presently, Mrs. Opal Cannon is leading the effort to have the depot placed on the National Register of Historical Places and to secure grant money to have it restored as a Welcome Center. Robert A. Clay, Jr. My First Paying Job My dad, Joe Forrester, and my uncle Blue Forrester had a store, Leesburg Mercantile Company, in Leesburg. Every Saturday when he would come home to eat dinner, I would go back to the store with him and work until 2 we closed at 12 midnight. I had a cigar box that I would keep my money in so that I could count it at the end of the night to see how much I had sold. I was in charge of all the drinks, candies, and also selling nickel plugs of Bull of the Woods and Prince Albert Tobacco, and also snuff, like Strawberry and Peach and Top. I would count my money and then my dad would give me $.50.1 finally got up to $1.00. It was lots of fun and good experience. Elizabeth Forrester Young My Favorite Teacher My favorite teacher at Twin Oaks Elementary school is Mrs. Cloud. Mrs. Cloud was my third grade teacher. She was one of the funniest teachers. She taught us math, science, social studies, language and reading. She always made learning fun by making jokes. She found ways to make learning fun. She would dress up and dance around the room. Every day that we were good she gave us a treat. I hope all of my teachers will be like Mrs. Cloud. Chase Redmond My Friend Marvin It was late summer and the year was 1970. My husband and I, along with our four children, had moved to Leesburg. I did not know anybody and had not made many friends during our first few months here. After about six months we purchased property and decided to make Leesburg our home. One of the first people I had the pleasure to meet was Lee Countys Building Inspector, Mr. Marvin Davidson. Mr. Davidson was extremely helpful and kind. He made the experience of beginning life in a new town enjoyable. It has been thirty- seven years since meeting Mr. Davidson and, after making many friends since then it feels good to know that Marvin was my first friend. I would like to take this opportunity to say, Thank you Marvin and to say, Thank you for welcoming us home. Sondra H. Williams 3 Family Stories I heard or Lived As a Child Granddaddy (R.P. Clay) made one attempt to drive a car. Daddy (R. A. Clay Sr.) was going from the Lee County farm to the Decatur home for a visit. He drove his car to Cobb to catch the train, and granddaddy went along to bring the car home. Granddaddy felt sure he could drive. All went well until he attempted to put the car under a shelter next to the bam. He didnt know how to stop the thing. He went all the way through the shelter, scaring some yearlings in the process, and circled the bam until he figured out how to stop the car. Sometime after Mother and Daddy were married, they started to visit Mr. Frank and Miss Carilu Kaylor one Sunday afternoon. When they came to a branch east of the Kaylor home, water was running across the road. Thinking it was not deep; daddy drove into the water and the car drowned out. Not wanting to rain his Sunday clothes, Daddy took off his pants and shoes, waded across the branch, put on his clothes and went to Mr. Kaylors to get help. Mother stayed in the car until it was on dry land. One of daddys first projects after buying the farm was to see that every tenant house had at least one room that was ceiled. Tongue and groove beaded ceiling was used to enclose the designated area so that the occupants could have a relatively warm place in at least part of the house. Mr. Troutman was our iceman. He worked for Atlantic Ice and Coal Company in Albany and serviced our icebox every other day. He worked his route all day without bringing a lunch and was not embarrassed to ask if he might have a cold biscuit or glass of milk to tide him over until he got home. I dont know of any of his customers who denied his request. Mr. Troutmans brother, Robert Troutman, was a prominent Atlanta lawyer who represented Georgia Power Company among others. Mr. Ramsey was our gasman. He worked for Grist Standard Oil Company in Albany and delivered gasoline and oil once a week. I think we bought gas for fifteen cents per gallon and solid it for twenty cents when someone ran short. 4 Sometimes during the late 1930s, Gene Talmadge was running for Governor. A barbecue and campaign speech was planned for July 4th in Albanyat the American Legion Golf Course. Daddy loaded us all up in the Terraplane car to attend the political rally. On arriving we found one of the largest crowds I had ever seen. The barbeque was late being served, the weather was hot but Ole Gene gave one of his rousing stump speeches and we all had a big time. Typically on Sunday afternoon we visited Grandmother and Granddaddy Hooks. On one of these visits my brother, Jimmy, who was about two at the time, drank from a bottle of kerosene. When he began to turn blue Mother and Daddy rushed him to Dr. H.L. Boggs in Cobb. Dr. Boggs referred to his medical books and was finally able to bring Jimmy around. He then turned to Mother and Daddy and said, Your boy is going to live. At this point they realized just how close a call this had been. They returned to the Hooks home after seeing Dr. Boggs. Jimmy had no further ill effects from the episode. Sometimes Daddy had to intervene in the farm hands marital disputes. One night, Arthur Nelson (B uU) and Mamie got into an argument. Mamie was the cook at the time. She ran out of their, slipped in the back of our house and hid under the bed in the back room. She spent the rest of the night there. Another time, one of the hands came to the door for help after his wife threw potash water in his face. A few weeks before Daddy died. Walter B. Williams came to the door one night with a stab wound. He was stabbed by Duck Fields who was trying to prevent him from marrying his daughter, Flossie. Daddy got Bajor Goodie Wright to take Walter B. to Dr. Boggs to be sewn up. I went with them. Dr. Boggs was hunting wild hogs that night and couldnt be found until about midnight. He sewed up the wound and sent us on our way. Daddy was always one to help the less fortunate. A black homeless man called Cush would come to the house periodically, offering to do odd jobs for food. Daddy saw to it that he left with a full stomach and some to cany with him. 5 Every Saturday morning Daddy would make a list of the groceries that each of the farm hands needed for the next week. He wanted to be sure they all had sufficient food before spending their wages foolishly. He would take theseorders to E & J Fergusons Store in Desoto where they were filled. Jimmy, my sister, Carolyn and I often went with him on these trips. We usually got to Desoto about the time Mr. Emmett and Uncle John Ferguson were going back home for their breakfast. They would invite us children to go with them for a second breakfast. We enjoyed their store bought bacon, light bread toast, eggs and grits. Before coming home Daddy would get cash from Fergusons store to pay off the hands. At noontime, the farm hands would come to the car house where Daddy distributed the groceries that had been ordered and paid them in cash for the weeks work minus the cost of their groceries. Daddy would also buy staples for our kitchen at E & J Fergusons store. However, he always had a good garden, cows to milk, home grown flour, home grown pork, eggs and chickens from the yard flock, etc. He did like occasionally to buy mullet fish and oysters from Ralph Grants Market for a little variety in our diet. While in Desoto, he often got a shave and haircut at Barber Barns shop located behind Grants Market. Daddy bought our first radio during the depression. We previously only had a hand cranked Victrola. The radio was powered by a car battery that had to be recharged frequently. There were no local broadcasting stations at the time but through the static we could pick up WSB in Atlanta and a few other stations. I remember the ringside report of the Hoe Lewis/Max Schmeling boxing match for the Worlds Heavyweight Championship. Some of the farm hands came to the house to get the results of that match. They were very excited that Hoe Ixwis beat his white German opponent. Since Daddy worked as a druggist at Jacobs Drug Stores in Atlanta before coming to the farm, he had some knowledge about medicine. He and Mother saw to it that we got mineral oil and castoria for regularity, quinine for malaria, Vicks salve for colds, peroxide for sores, argyrols for sore eyes and castor oil for good measure. Other medicines that we used included Epson salts, CRC capsules, iodine, turpentine and SSS tonic. Sulfa drugs were just beginning to be prescribed in the early 1940s. 6 It was reported in The Americus Times Recorder that an airplane would be coming to town and would take up passengers on a certain day. Daddy took us to see this airplane. Mother, Jimmy and I took a plane ride over Americus. Referring to Carolyn, Daddy said, Miss Girl and I will stay on the ground. We always had our Christmas stockings filled with candy, nuts, fireworks, raisins, etc. In addition we always had some big items under the Christmas tree. One year it was a bicycle to be shared by the three of us. Another time Jimmy and I got 410 shotguns. Another Christmas Jimmy got boots and boot pants and I got my first suit. Carolyn got dolls, doll carriages and girl things. We always had a feast for Christmas dinner, turkey or chicken and dressing, potato souffle, ambrosia, cakes, pies, etc. When night came, we would build a fire in a safe place and shoot firecrackers, roman candles, skyrockets, sparklers, etc. Shorty, Bull and Boll Weevil often joined us for the fireworks. Not bad Christmases for depression times. As a child, Mother wanted a little gold locket. Her parents urged her to earn the money for it. She picked cotton in a little flour sack, trying to earn enough to but the locket. Because she tried so hard, her parents gave her a little help and she got the locket. She kept this locket as long as she lived. One of the highlights of our summers was swimming in Chokee Creek. Bull Nelson would take part of his dinner break to ride bicycles with Jimmy and me for a quick skinny dip in the creek. We would have to get back by the time Daddy rang the bell for the farm hands to catch their mules for an afternoon of plowing. At other times our neighbors Roger and Joyce Larsen frequently joined Jimmy, Carolyn and me for bicycle rides to Chokee Creek for a swim. Bathing suits were required on these occasions. As a child, mother had a little store made out of a crate in which a pump organ had been shipped. She kept snuff, tobacco, sardines, crackers, etc. to sell to the farm workers. With the money she earned, she wanted to buy a bicycle, but Grandmother Hooks said, No, you might break a leg. To compensate, she was allowed to buy a parrot. It was a beautiful bird and soon learned to say a few words. The parrot would put 7 his talons in the braids of Mothers hair and walked up to the top of her head. She was told she must keep the birds wings cropped or he would fly away. Mother was too tender hearted to crop the parrots wings. One day he flew away and never returned. One day Mother started out to the chicken house to gather eggs. She had to walk through an opening in the hedge, which surrounded the back year. Having her mind on her destination rather than where she put her feet, she was nearly scared to death when she looked down and realized that she had one foot suspended in the air over a six foot alligator. There was nothing she could do but go ahead and step over the intruder. She then went for Granddaddy Hooks to come shoot the gator. My youngest sister, Evelyn, was bom about three months after Daddy died. Mother was operating the farm at that time. She would put Evelyn in the saddle with her and ride over the farm to check on the cows and crops. Robert A. Clay, Jr. Home of Eddye and Robert A. Clay, Sr. located on the Clay Farm A Day Remembered Yes, you do remember exactly what you were doing and where you were on that day of empathy, second only to that of Pearl Harbor. The day in question is September 11,2001 9-11 being embedded in the minds of my wife, Patricia, and myself forever, as of all things, we were outside the USA. We, along with a number of close friends from Americus and Cordele, were on a long planned trip to Nova Scotia, leaving New York Harbor on 8 September 9,2001. I recall our departure on the tour cruise. It was late that sunny afternoon. The Twin Tower buildings were alive with brilliant sunlight, reflecting off the glass structured buildings, and as we stood on the deck of our ship, we regretted that we did not have our cameras, that were still packed in our shipped luggage. Certainly, no one would have ever thought that two days later, those two buildings would be demolished and our country under attack as never before. While in Nova Scotia, several of us hired a limousine for a tour of the island. The driver stopped at a 7-11 type store to make a purchase. On his return, he advised that he had talked to his son in New York City by phone and that something terrible had happened. Planes had hit the Twin Tower buildings. From that time on, it was constant news, and all of us were in shock and dismay. This terrible event had a major impact on everyone and our country. For us, at that time, it was that we soon learned that we could not get back into the states and New York Harbor. The tour continued, making ports of call along the coast, but no ones heart was really in it. The ships crew did all they could to make things pleasant, including the use of their ship-to-shore communication systems so that we could let our friends and families hear from us. With some 900 to 1000 people on board, there were a number of ministers of different faiths, so church services were started. In the absence of a large enough chapel, the ship closed one of its large bars and we had church in the bar. One might say that Old Mr. Boston, Hiram Walker, Old Grandad, and others of spirit, did attend church. Since many ships at sea, including the famous QE-2, were coming into New York Harbor, the close down presented great problems, and our re-entry was put on hold. We sailed into Boston twice, going up and down thecoast, sometimes at reduced speeds. On returning to our ship, at Bar Harbor, MA., they took items from us as a measure of security, including my pocket knife which I carry at all times. They told us they would be returned to us in New York. This later proved to be a factor in saving my knife. From then on, such items were packed in our luggage, not carry on. On our second stop in Boston, still not allowed to re-enter New York Harbor we said: Lets just try to see if we can fly home. Having to reject the offer of a bus ride from Boston to New York, since we had a wheel chaired person with us. We called the airlines, told them of our problems, having to reject the offer of a bus ride from Boston to New York, having a wheel-chair 9 person with us. To our amazement, they said: Okay, we will fly you direct to Atlanta, non-stop and the tour line will cover the cost. They gave us the option of leaving at various times, since there was practically no one flying. Getting over from Boston Bay to Logan Airport, we saw few people in the terminal, mostly policemen with automatic weapons, guard dogs, et al. It was so empty you could have easily played baseball in it. After all, Logan was where some of the attack planes had departed. Going through processing, we had to empty all of our cany-on bags, and they took everything that they thought dangerous, even nail clippers, compact mirrors, scissors, knives, and the like. They were so up-tight and on edge, really not knowing what to do. Glad I packed my knife! While waiting for our flight departure, we noticed a questionable man in our waiting area. Dressed strangely, he seemed very nervous. He was constantly looking around, and moving from one seat to another. In our minds he fit a terrorist description, and we were sure that we were doomed and in great danger. To our dismay, he boarded our plane and sat not far from us. Well, we made it to Atlanta, and, in all probability, the man was a plain-clothes Air Marshall, as we later found out that every flight at that time had one on board. We are still saddened over the Twin Towers disaster, even recalling seeing the smoke still rising as we flew over New York City. Getting home was wonderful, and we certainly hope nothing like this will ever happen again. God bless America and in the words of Tiny Tim, God Bless Us Everyone. Page Tharp The Leesburg Methodist Church Bazaar For many years the first Riday in December was a significant one in Leesburg. That was always the day of the Christmas Bazaar held at the Methodist Church. All during the year, the ladies in the Womans Society of Christian Service, (later called United Methodist Women); worked preparing crafts, sewing, tatting, knitting afghans, canning jelly, preserves, pickles and other delicacies, and baking their specialties, such as caramel, chocolate, and fresh coconut cakes, candies, homemade breads and all kinds of surprise bags. All of this would be attractively displayed. They would always come early on that morning to make home-made sausage biscuits, orange 10 juice and coffee for breakfast so people could come early before work or school. Each year when the doors opened at 7 a.m. sharp, there would be a long line of people waiting to get in. The money derived from this project was used for mission work. One year, the group was fortunate to have an etching of the White House sent to them by Mrs. Mamie Eisenhower. This item was auctioned off and Edward Cannon had the lucky prize-winning bid. The community enjoyed the bazaar and were delighted to find handmade, unique items to give their family and friends for Christmas gifts. Opal Cannon Jeff Davis When Jeff Davis, President of the Confederacy, was being chased by Union Forces, he came thru Smithville, GA. There is a historical marker on the road between Smithville and Brownwood, the crossing point is on the Kinchafoonee Creek, cross to the Brownwood side and taken left follow the dirt road, always to the left about 2 miles until you come to a right hand curve, the old road runs toward the creek bend, it was here Jeff Davis crossed, and this also was a Baptismal area and picnic ground. The bridge pilings are still there on the bank Earl B. Andrews Lee County Beauties and Close Friends When I was in Grammar school in Lee County I spent a good many weekends with my dear friend and classmate, Nancy Moore. Mrs. Rose Moore always welcomed me into her home and I felt like a family member. Mrs. Moore always seemed to manage her children, as well as myself and her household, with such ease. Nancy lived across the street from Mary and Martha Cannon. On several occasions, Nancy and I visited with Mary and Martha in the Cannon home. Our giggling must have gotten on their mothers nerves but she remained cool and composed. Their mother, Ms. Lucilla Cannon, was a lady of exceptional poise. Many times after I visited with Nancy, Mary and Martha, as soon as I 11 arrived home, I informed my mother that I wanted a brother or sister. I told her I was tired and bored of being an only child. My mother informed me that the doctor had advised her not to have anymore children. My reply was so are you really going to listen to that well qualified doctor when your only daughter wants a sibling. Thank goodness she took the doctors advice instead of my off-the-wall idea. At the time, I thought she was being selfish by not granting my wish. Does the word dense come to mind? I recall once Lee County had a beauty contest for grammar school girls. I can not remember all the girls who entered the contest but I remember that Mary and Martha Cannon entered the contest. I signed up, with my mothers consent, to be in the contest. I think on that day my mother and I were out of touch with reality. The judges had to come up with two first-place awards. These awards went to Maty and Martha Cannon. You see the judges could not give an award to one without giving an award to the other because some of you might not know that these two beauties were identical twins. I was given an award for getting off the stage the fastest due to stage fright. The Cannon twins are now married to devoted mates and each have families of their own. The two families must have many pleasant memories to treasure to recall. The Cannon twins beauty is more than skin deep. Sandra Stocks Fred One warm April morning I was puttering around in my front yard. I noticed my dog, Bailey, trying to catch something from the pile of leaves under a large camellia bush. The dog catches her prey and I see a small tail hanging from her mouth. I screamed! Bailey dropped the small animal, and it hid again. I gently fished a baby squirrel out of the leaves and put him on a slanted branch of a large oak. I expected him to scamper back up the tree; instead he fell again. I picked him up and looked closely and saw that one of his front paws was bent sideways. He could not use it. When he tried to hold on to the tree he would fall. I thought Oh, no! What in the world was I going to do, I did not have time for a baby squirrel. I had to take care of my elderly father and I was serving on the Lee county election board, and I just had a full plate! I then realized that the only way he was going to survive was if I helped him. I fixed him a bed in a small pet carrier. I thought that I would be able to restrict his movements, but NO! 12 Remember squirrels are rodents and they need to gnaw on things, even small squirrels! He immediately began to gnaw on the carrier and did not stop until he had made a hole big enough to go through. Then, he accepted the carrier as his nest I fedhim milk and pecans and he grew quickly. We decided to call him Fred. Fred went everywhere with me. If I had a meeting or went in a place he could not go, he just stayed in the truck He was happy and playful; when I was driving he would play along the truck seats or turn somersaults on the steering wheel. Squirrels are fun animals, and he was a joy to have around. Freds deformed paw never improved. I would mb it and exercise it, but he was never able to use it. When he ran he had a bad limp, however that never slowed him down. As he grew older and his good paw grew bigger, he learned to climb using only one. I knew Fred was a wild animal and truly needed to live with his own kind. In late September he left the truck and went to live in a pecan tree near the governmental building in Leesburg. For several years he could be seen limping from one pecan tree to another behind the courthouse. He had been accepted by the wild squirrels and appeared to be happy. We wonder why things happen, why God chooses for us to take on things that we feel we cannot handle. I lost my father during the time Fred was with me. The little squirrel was a source of comfort during my time of need. Betty Jane Radcliffe Nesbitt Moving to SmithviUe Before the depression my family lived in Albany where my dad had worked on the railroad for 13 years. When the depression began he was laid off. He and his brother went back to the farm near Parrott in Terrell County and put a crop in the ground. Sure enough, the railroad called him to come back to work. It was a lot better than farming, but he would not go. Im not going to leave Tom to gather the crop when we went in this thing together, he said. My mother, sisters, and brother begged him to go back to the railroad, but he wouldnt doit. The farm idea must not have worked out, because after that year we moved around a lot. In fact, Uncle Tom said he moved so much that when he walked out the door all the chickens would lay down and cross their legs, thinking he was going to tie them up to be moved! 13 We moved to Americus in 1942, and Dad worked for Mr. Frank Stein, who had a clothing store. Dad was still farming some, and he and my youngest sister both worked at Mr. Franks clothing store. They would walk about three miles in the dark to Sumter City to catch the bus to Americus, and then get back that night. We didnt have an automobile then, as it was during the war and cars were hard to find. Finally we got a 1937 Ford but it needed some work. Mr. Frank called Oxford Motor Company and told them to fix it and send him the bill. When we got that car out of the shop we thought we had really arrived! Mr. Frank had a friend who owned a store in Smithville. This store was losing money, and he said he wished he could find a good, honest man to run it. Mr. Frank recommended my father. After my mother, my sisters and I put in our two cents worth, he agreed to move to Smithville and take over the store. We moved on my dads birthday. It was a Saturday morning, and I havent left but twice since then. Once was when I was in the service and the other was when I had graduated from school and went to work in Albany. Dad told me if I lived at home, I would have to pay ten dollars a week. I thought that was unfair, and I boarded for several months in Albany. I soon changed my mind and by the time I had swallowed my pride and moved back home I had learned a valuable lesson. After two years of running the store Dad managed to buy it; I was in the sixth grade then. I did not like store work, dusting, sweeping and washing those shelves. Mr. E. A. Hatcher of Smithville contracted to some farmers to plant cucumbers and sell them back to him. The cucumbers were graded and packed in a freight house that belonged to the railroad. He hired some of the local boys to work there. It was John Calvin Teele, John Heath, Donald Parker, Jack Smith, Bobby Scott, James Beamon, Wayne Greene and myself. Clifford Long was the manager. Of course, there were no child labor laws then, and we would work from 8:30 a.m. until. We were paid fifteen cents per hour until we got together and formed a union. We waited until the truck was backed up and then we asked for a raise. We were told no, so we struck. After a few minutes we were offered a five cent per hour raise, and we took it. That ended the union. We worked there in the summers for three years. Another thing we did was stack peanuts. Pat Whatley used to pay us twenty-five cents a stack. He would meet the school bus in the afternoon, take us by the house to change clothes, and we would shake peanuts until dark and on Saturday. When we got paid on Saturday we would hitchhike to Americus 14 and go to the cowboy movies, then hitchhike back. Them were the days, as they say, but we didnt know it then. We also picked up pecans, three cents per pound, four cents if you had to climb the tree and shake the nuts down. In the summer of the ninth grade Ray McColly called and said they were hiring young folks at a tomato plant in Leesburg, and they paid fifty cents per hour! So we all went to work packing green tomatoes at the Farmers Market in Leesburg. John Heath was the only one of us, who had a drivers license, and my dad loaned us his car, but we each had to pay twenty-five cents a day to use the car. We thought we were in high cotton then, fifty cents an hour packing tomatoes when we were making twenty cents an hour packing cucumbers, picking up pecans for four cents a pound and hoeing peanuts for two dollars a day from sunup to sundown. And it sure beat store work! One of the local boys, Jerry Bernier, had joined the army and gone off to fight in Korea. He was captured and spent thirty-three months in a Chinese prison camp. When the war was over and he was released, we had a big day for him in Smithville! Everyone was there, and we had a bar-b-que and big parade, and a lot of gifts for Jerry. That was just about the biggest day we ever had in Smithville. After I finished school I went to work doing woodwork, and soon learned to be a cabinet maker. My wife is Joyce Young, a Smithville native. One summer night a group of us were hanging around the swimming pool, and someone suggested we go for a ride. We sort of paired off and that was the beginning of our love life. We were married in three months, on her twenty-first birthday. I was 22 then, and that was 49 years ago. We have two beautiful daughters and five grandchildren. In the early days I remember Smithville was a real railroad center. All the trains would stop for coal and water, and some trains even met up there to go west. It was a bustling town back then, all of the black folks either worked on the railroad, on farms, or on Mr. L.J. Millers sawmill. All of the farm folk would come to town on Saturday, some in a mule and wagon. The black folks would go to the Jack Dosters cafe and socialize until later then go to one of the stores and get their groceries. Sometimes Dad would be one to two oclock getting out of the store. Dad served on the city council for a while; later on, I served on the council for twenty years. I was looking at some old city ordinances and found 15 one that said it was against city law to tie your mule to a mulberry tree! We had only a night watchman and he punched a clock. Both Joyce and I graduated from the Lee County School system. The schools were segregated then and the only white high school was in Leesburg. All twelve grades were in the same building, but until we were in the eighth grade we went to school in Smithville. In Leesburg there were about 400 students in the school, but only 17 in my graduating class in 1953. Joyce graduated in 1955 and worked for the U.S. Dept, of Agriculture for 38 years. She retired in 1994 when I had open heart surgery. George Davis Where Were You Memorable event I will not forget: JFKs assassination when I was in the seventh grade at Lee County High School. Believe it or not that was before video monitors were in every classroom, public address systems, air conditioning, computers, email, telephones and the greatest of all CELL phones. Some how we did get the news in the individual classroom and had an understanding teacher who shared current unbiased information with all the students. Alan Long 16 Mr. Charlies Store The farm I was raised on was about equidistance between Smithville and Leslie, Georgia. About a mile down from my house toward Leslie was Mr. Charlie Dennards store. I guess it should be characterized as a small country store. People werent able to run up and down the road like we do today. Many people didnt have a car or truck to use. The store was mostly stocked with staples, but sold shoes, overalls, etc. This was the only place many people could get to easily for food and other items. Mr. Charlie even special ordered my Daddys boots because his foot was so small. He had a meat cooler from which you could get some items fresh. The thing that I remember most from the meat cooler was the big, long, red sleeved covered roll of bologna. For some reason, I preferred a slice of this bologna as a treat than candy or ice cream. On many a visit to the store Mr. Charlie would get out that roll of bologna. Havent had any that good in a long, long time. But there were also other treats to have as well. Mr. Charlie had an old glass front candy counter. There were many different choices of candy. I preferred what was then penny candy. Long gone are the days you could get something for a penny. My two favorites were Mary Janes and Squirrel Nut Zippers. For a nickel or a dime, I could get plenty to keep me happy for a while. You can still get these two candies today, but the Squirrel Nut Zippers arent nearly as good. There was also an ice cream cooler. This was a big white box that you opened from the top. It had two fold back openings from which you could look in to choose your ice cream. I would get an ice cream sandwich or a fudgesicle usually. I might add the ice cream sandwiches were much bigger then they are now. The Coca Cola box also opened from the top. Mr. Charlies s sat right next to the wall as you walked in. This was usually the first place my daddy went when we were there. The top had to be held up and laid back against the wall to make your selection. It had two sides to it. I was too short to see inside, so I would jump up onto the edge and hang over into the box. The drinks sat on the bottom in cold water. Id reach down, get what I wanted, and slide back down onto the floor. The bottle opener was built onto the side of the box and would catch the bottle cap as it popped off. No such things as cans or plastic bottles then. 17 The coke box held all the types of drinks sold, not just Coke. There was Nehi Grape, Nehi Orange, RC, Orangico and others that I cant remember. My favorite was the Orangico. It came in a seven ounce bottle that had raised glass bumps, as I called them, on the upper part of the bottle. It was great. My daddys choice was always a six ounce bottle of Coca Cola. Sometimes, he drank it straight. On other occasions he added a small bag of Toms salted peanuts to the bottle. The peanuts would float at the top of the bottle, and as youd drink youd get some peanuts along with your Coke. If youve never tried this, its a must. But dont try it in a can. You need a small bottle to attain the proper taste of Coke and peanuts. Mr. Charlies was a special place during my childhood. It still stands today on Hwy. 118 between Smithville and Leslie. It has changed during the years and hasnt been open for a long time. But when I ride by I look over and think of my daddy and Mr. Charlie and all the wonderful memories made on that spot. Charlene Usry Riley Claud McRee My father, Riley Claud McRee, was a farmer in Lee County for over sixty years. I guess to those who have never done it, farming is a simple occupation, but to be a good farmer requires knowledge, timing, discipline, love of the land and a lot of hard work. And he was a good farmer, a really good farmer. His farm was located several miles west of Smithville, off Highway 118. Those who worked for him and with him knew he did not like crooked rows, shoddy work, a poor stand of whatever planted, unfinished tasks, quitting before sundown and working on Sunday. He always wore a wide-brimmed hat, no matter what season it was. But his hat served a purpose other than protecting him from the elements. When something about the farm did not suit him or he was particularly irritated, he would take his hat off and throw it on the ground. That was a clear indication to anyone nearby to find another place to be. He was a hard task master and very outspoken in his opinions. But underneath a tough exterior he was a giving and warmhearted person. He was very generous to his family, his church and those who were less fortunate. He was active in his community, serving at various times as president of the Smithville 18 Mens Club, The Lions Club and the Smithville Recreation Club. For many years he was Chairman of his Church Deacon Board and Chairman of the Lee County Board of Education. He also served on the Lee County ASCS Board and the Board of the Albany Production Credit Association. He was well known and respected in Lee County and a number of years ago a rural road West Smithville was named for him. The only problem was that when the road signs were put up, his name was misspelled. McRee was spelled McCree on the signs. He called one of the county offices to see about getting it corrected and was told that the name on the sign was spelled the way it was pronounced. When he heard that answer, I am sure he not only threw his hat down, I expect he stomped it as well. The signs bearing his name are still up and are still misspelled. In 1941, he married Leesburg native, Rebecca Jane Tison, and they lived together for sixty years on the same farm outside of Smithville. He died in 2001, and she only lived a few months longer. I am grateful for the childhood they provided for me, my sister, Paula and my brother, Chris in Lee County that moved at a slower pace then and was a kinder and gentler place than it is now. Some of my best memories are of growing up on the farm outside of Smithville and attending Lee County High School in Leesburg. I have included two pictures, one of me and my father, Riley Claud McRee, in his lupin field when he was a young farmer in the late 1940s; the other of Claud and Jane McRee beside the pond on their farm in 1997. Note, he is wearing his hat in both pictures! Claudia McRee Copeland 19 The Haunted House Whether or not there were such things as ghosts was a question never debated in the Martin house. We always knew, beyond a shadow of doubt, they were real. We never dillie-dallied with ouija boards or tarot cards. We never opened symbolic doors for spirits to enter via seances. We never tempted fate by having our palms read. Neither did we seek out mediums to guide us through the netherworld with their channeling. We had sense enough to leave that stuff alonebecause we were all too scary! Gus and Laura Martin, my grandparents, were second generation Lee Countians, bom in the late 1800s, early 1900s. Gus was the son ofWilliam Pitt Martin and Bessie Harris Martin. Laura was the daughter ofWilliam and Lilly Mae Laramore. Gus and Laura made their home and raised two daughters, Jacqueline and Joanne, on the family farm in northeast Lee County. The stories of ghosts and other strange happenings emanate from the house where my grandparents lived, and, even though part of the farm with the old house was sold in 2001, something happened that prompted my return a few years later. That something is what led me to put pen to paper and chronicle the ghost stories from my childhood. To get to the point, one of the new residents who moved into Gus and Lauras house passed away after a long illness. Even though we had never been formally introduced, I felt compelled to pay my condolences since anyone living on Gus Martin Road is a neighbor. On what turned out to be a gloomy rainy day, Kathy Breeden and I arrived with covered dishes in hand. As we made our way toward the front door, childhood memories flooded over me. I paused for a moment and looked at the large white house and saw it as it had been so many years before. I could see the place on either side of the little walkway where two palm trees had stood. I remembered my sister, Lisa, my cousin, Laura Lea, and me cutting fronds from these trees to make skirts. We would wear them down the side- walk and make believe it was a runway as we played Miss America. Kathy and I continued up the front steps and as I stood next to the wrought iron supports of the awning, I could see the three of us again as children, climbing as fast as we could to the top of the supports in one of our many competitions. Now, standing at the front door, I knocked as the rain gently pelted down on the tin roof. The sound brought back memories of my grandfather. I 20 could see Papa standing with the screen door wide open, surveying the weather with a farmers concerned look on his face, wondering if the falling rain would last and bring a welcomed end to the dry spell. As we were greeted and invited in, I was still swimming in a deep pool of memories, so I had to force myself back to the surface of the moment. Im sorry, I explained, Its just that this was my grandparents house and I practically grew up here. I was reminiscing on old times. Upon hearing this, all heads in the room turned in my direction and whispers were exchanged. Kathy, with raised brows, watched everyone looking at me, anticipating what they would say when the silence was broken. OH, we understand, they assured me and then came the questions. You lived here? Can you please tell us, is the house haunted? I must admit I was not expecting this question, but I was not in the least bit surprised. I had to know something first, and answered their questions with a couple of my own, Why do you ask? Has something happened? They all assured me nothing had, but I knew why they asked even if they didnt. The house was heavy with an atmosphere that suggested so many things. Once you walked through the door you just knew there were ghost stories to be told. I took the time to briefly review the metaphysical history for them. Although it was an abbreviated history, (I didnt want to frighten them or have them think I was crazy) they got the point. When I finished, I explained that the house, and the strange experiences , seemed to be enhanced somehow by the presence of my mother. This house was like a pot simmering on the stove. Certain people created an effect that caused the pot to boil over every now and then. No other questions were asked as they realized it was best to leave certain things alone. It is true what I said about my mother, though. My dad, Captain Tauber, was in the Marine Corps and each time he was stationed overseas my mother, sister, and I returned to the farm in Lee County and lived with my grandparents. It was during these times with Papa and Lala that we discovered firsthand what it was like to share a house with ghosts. There are two possible explanations for the origin of the spirits in the house. The first theory involves my Great Grandmother, Bessie Harris Martin. Bessie lived with my grandparents, Laura and Gus Martin (Lala and Papa) and it was my grandmother who took care of her for a long time before she went to the nursing home in Americus. 21 Bessies imagination grew as her mind dimmed with age and we would catch her routinely unlocking the front door late at night. When asked why, she would simply answer, Lee will be in later and I want to make sure he can get in. Lee, it is rumored, was a doctor who had previously lived on what would become our familys farm. He had an office where he practiced medicine across the road from their house. Lee died of wounds he received in the Civil War, but not before making it back to the farm. It was during this time, before his death, he supposedly had hidden Confederate gold somewhere on the place. We never doubted for a minute Bessie saw him. We also looked for treasure, but never found it. Of course we are blessed with a treasure trove of memories and a rich past of time spent on the farm with Lala and Papa. This incident with Bessie was when I first realized we were not alone. The second explanation for the origin of the spirits is from a different war, World War n, when the government confiscated some of my grandfathers land to build an airstrip. My family would listen to planes flying low without any lights passing overhead into the wee hours of the morning as pilots trained for daring night missions. One night shortly after dark they listened as a planes engine sputtered and went silent. Everyone held their breath, praying for the sound of the engine to return. Instead they heard the sounds of cracking timber and explosions when the plane went down in the field directly behind the house. As the story goes, the unlucky pilot who died in that dark lonely field, engulfed in the inferno of the plane, was from France. My motherand Aunt Jack still shudder at the thought of the young man who died in the crash that fateful night so long ago. It was not long after the crash, after debris from the wreckage had been removed and the fields were being plowed again, that my mother and aunt found the ring. Their daily exploring took them through the garden and across the cool waters of the small branch that lead to a field road just behind the house, to where the plane had crashed. I say exploring, but thinking back they tell me it was as if they were drawn to the crash site. The earth still charred, the landscape still broken from the planes impact, the girls poked and kicked and dug around the site as if searching for something lost. In the sunlight a small twinkle caught their eyes. Both girls reached down at the same time to retrieve their treasure-a RING! What a find! They studied 22 it for a moment, curious about the strange design in the metal. They took turns examining and wondering where it came from. Startled, they felt an electrical surge through their fingers from the ring and immediately dropped it on the ground and ran for home. Out of breath they found their mother, Laura, inthekitchenwithAddie, the housekeeper, busy preparing lunch. They could hardly be understood as both tried to tell the story at the same time, insisting she follow them. In no time they were back in the field. Laura, looking down at the ring lying in the dirt, picked it up for a closer look. She wiped away the charred grime with her apron and studied the strange markings engraved into the metal. Without a word to either girl she turned and headed back to the house. Jacqueline and Joanne followed, having to skip every few steps to keep up with her. Hours were spent that evening inspecting the ring and speculating about its origin. My grandfather studied it and declared it was a Coat of Arms. Looking through one of the many, many books that filled four huge glass-front bookcases in their living room, they decided it was French. Naturally they reached the obvious conclusion, which was the ring now in their possession belonged to the pilot killed in the crash. The ring was the topic of discussion for weeks that followed and it was carefully tucked away in a large chiffarobe in the hall. They always planned to try and learn the name of the airman killed in the crash, but the war pressed on and the ring was soon forgotten. That is until one day, when they went to get the ring, it was gone. Vanished into thin air you might say, never to be seen again. It didnt matter though, my mother and Aunt Jacqueline explained, We knew the ring had been claimed by its rightful owner. There you have it two theories, which may or may not explain why spirits shared our home. Which one is right? Are they both right? These were never relevant questions for me. You see, I just didnt care and as far as I was concerned my only goal was to never be caught in the house alone with a spirit! Frenchman or Civil War Vet made no difference to me. I meant never, ever to see a ghost, as I fear the shock would be more than I could bear. That goal of mine almost failed miserably late one hot summer night when I must have been about 10 years old. My sister, Lisa, my cousin, Laura Lea, and I were inseparable that summer. After exhausting all topics of conversation Lisa and Laura Lea had drifted off to sleep, but not me. I was still awake because it was so hot. There was no air-conditioner in the house back then and we just made the best of it. 23 Tippy, Lalas little dog, was sleeping at the foot of the bed and as I lay there I could hear the normal sounds of the night. Frog and cricket concertos drifted in from outside. The low whir and hum of electrical appliances reverberated throughout the house. This is exactly how it was that hot summer night when I felt the bed shake. It was ever so slight a shake a first, so I didnt have much trouble convincing myself it was my imagination. Even so, my eyes were closed and I dared not open them! Since it was my imagination, I was able to remain calm -then I felt the bed shudder a second time! So much for my imagination! Every muscle in my body tensed. I held my breath and waited. I could not believe this was happening. Paralyzed with fear I squeezed my eyes so tight a tear rolled from my eye to the pillow. Minutes ticked by and nothing... My perception, my feeling, was that something was at the foot of the bed trying to get my attention for one reason only to make me look at it! Even now writing about it gives me chills and the hair on the back of my neck stands up! I had convinced myself I was crazy and nearly succeeded except for one thing. This time the bed not only shook, but the dog GROWLED! I had reached the end of my rope and that last shudder sent me over the edge! AHHHHHHHHHHH!!!! MAMA MAMA MAMA!!! Mother and Lala rushed into the bedroom and my eyes popped open as soon as the light came on. I was sobbing as I tried to tell them about my horrible ordeal! There was something shaking the bed! I cried. I was scared to death, but whatever it was had fled - unsuccessful in its sinister attempt to make me look! Poor Laura Lea and Lisa! They woke from sweet dreams to pure mayhem and chaos. They didnt know what was going on but knew it was something they wanted no part of! Mama and Lala checked under the bed and in the closet until we were all satisfied there was nothing in the room. Of course there was nothing in the room now, but they hadnt been there when the bed was shaking, had they? Laura Lea, Lisa, and I huddled together after our nerves settled and sleep finally came. The next ghostly tale involves my mother and grandmother. We three girls, Laura Lea, Lisa, and I were in that same bedroom behind the kitchen lying in bed and trying to go to sleep. I must mention that ghosts were the farthest things from our minds since it had been a while since they had made an intrusion into our world. Out of sight out of mind, you know. 24 We listened to the conversations from the living room. Voices grew louder as they approached, indicating the grownups were getting ready for bed, too. Suddenly we heard a shriek and a voice cry, What was that! I was always too nosey for my own good, so I sat up and listened. The two other heads in the bed popped up as well. I dont know! the conversation continued, Did you see it? This was my mothers voice and at first I thought they had seen a mouse, and I was ready to have a good laugh at them for being such scardy cats. But the tone in my mothers voice told me it was no mouse! Laura Lea and Lisa knew it, too. Quick as a wink we dove under the covers and didnt make a sound! The ghost was on the move again! Oh my Lord! said Lala. Joanne, what was it? Whereditgo? We heard mom rush past our doorway in the hall, so we peeked out from under the covers. As long as our mother was there we were brave, so I jumped out of bed and Laura Lea and Lisa followed. What is it? What is it? What is it? we asked over and over until we were told to hush! Speaking to my grandmother, mother said, It brushed right through my skirt, swoosh, then it disappeared into the wall here! Mother was very dramatic in her description, using her hand to brush her skirt in time with the swoosh sound-effect she made. Refusing to be ignored I started up again, What! What happened? Mother turned and we followed her to the kitchen where she pulled a chair from the table and sat down. Thats when we heard the whole story. She and Lala had been standing in the doorway leading from the hall into the living room. Mother got into position to recreate the scene. I remember thinking that may not be too wise. What if the ghost was still creeping around? I peered into the hall hesitantly to be sure and found the coast was clear. Mother continued, saying she was standing in the doorway of the hall, where it leads to the living room talking to Lala, who was in the kitchen. Out of thin air a dark shadow of a shape ran from the living room, down the hall and disappeared into the chiffarobe. It had passed so close to mother it made the fabric of her full skirt move, as if caught by a gust of air. Lala and mom were shaken but not frightened. The atmosphere in the house was very calm, and we knew the excitement was over - for the time being. In the days that followed the incident, we realized that the old chiffarobe at the end of the hall where the spectral vision had vanished was the same furniture where the pilots ring disappeared! 25 Another, and one of the most hair-raising episodes, took place one cold winter night in late October. Mother, Lisa, and I had been left alone while Papa and Lala went to eat at Daphne Lodge with Dave and Bradley Gortatoski. Mother and I were in the den watching television and Lisa was in the tub when we heard a low moan. At first, we thought it was part of the television show until a commercial came on the noise didnt stop. It grew in volume and then stopped abruptly. What was that? I asked. Mother was still listening when all of a sudden, from what seemed to come from inside the house, rose a blood-chilling scream the likes of which we had never heard. We jumped to our feet and bolted toward the back thinking it was Lisa. We didnt get far as we met Lisa somewhere in the middle. Naked and still soapy she heard the scream and jumped from the tub to find us. She couldnt speak, only held her mouth open, her eyes asking the question we had, What was that? Lisa dried off and dressed and we all moved in a little huddle everywhere we went - looking from room to room, but finding nothing. We sat squashed together on the couch and thats where we were when Papa and Lala came home. As they entered we rushed at them and told them the story of the blood- curdling scream that was never explained and remains a mystery to this very day. No matter how scary things were, nobody had yet to be physically attacked by one of the spirits in the house. Nobody that is until the night Suzanne had her encounter with the ghost. Suzanne is the youngest of the five cousins and was four years old when this happened, but she remembers it to this day. Tired and dirty from a day of play on the farm, Suzanne was ready for her bath and then bed. My Mother took her from the mb and bundled her in a towel to be dried. The bathroom is very small, so the two had stepped out into the hall. Mother turned just for a second to get her pajamas and heard running footsteps, followed by a loud slap. Suzanne began to wail and when mother turned back around could not believe what she saw. A handprint was welting up on the side of Suzannes face as she stood there screaming, her arms hugged to her body by the towel she was wrapped in. Well, Mother had a fit and asked what had happened. Suzanne stopped crying, It hit my face! was all she said. Who hit you? mother demanded. Lisa, Laura Lea, and me were out in the den with Lala and Papa when we heard Suzanne crying and went to see what was wrong. 26 I dont know, Suzanne cried and pointed to the wall behind her. It went,there! Ut-Ohhh! We knew this wasnt good - wasnt good at all! The ghost was back, so Lisa, Laura Lea, and I huddled up with each, moving from room to room following the grown folks like we were tied together. Nobody wanted to be left alone in any room of the house with the ghost on the prowl to be the next victim! Of course Papa, my grandfather, was impervious to all this commotion. Nonsense, he called it, and as far as I know he never saw a ghost, never had a close encounter with a ghost, and generally chalked all the happenings up to hysterical women. Papa would tune us out, literally. Whenwewenttohollern and carrying on about haints, as he called them, he would turn his hearing aid off or take it out altogether. For someone who was so blase about ghosts, Papa could tell some scary stories! I remember Laura Lea, Lisa, and me listening to late night tales he told - like the old lineman who was killed in a train accident. The train cut off his arm and he bled to death, but still comes back to this day, carrying his lantern looking for the missing limb. Ghosts knew Lalas and Papas room was off limits. Thats why we three little girls reveled when one of us was lucky to be able to sleep with Lala. We knew it was safe. My mothers room was a different story, however. One night she woke out of a sound sleep but couldnt move a muscle. She said it felt as if she had been wrapped in chains and as suddenly as it came, it passed and she was free! That was the last strange happening in the house. After that daddy retired from the Marine Corps and soon we moved into our own home. It was right down the road from my grandparents, and we visited daily. These ghost tales are passed around today in our families. Our children and now our childrens children hear them over and over, and sometimes they are even a little scared thinking about them. We learned a valuable lesson living in the ghost house - that sometimes a little fear of ghosts is a good thing that will keep you safe. It did me. Donna Tauber-King 27 Hatfield Versus the Mosquito - Another Hatfield Feud For over 50 years the name Reed Hatfield has been held in great renown among hunters, fishermen and taxidermists all over southwest Georgia. He was the man who could regularly bag two quail with one shot, retrieve 12 doves with every 12 shots, haul in a lunker bass from almost any local stream or pond, or call up a wild turkey with the best of them. Hardly a season came and went without a trophy buck being taken by him. He was the first taxidermist in the Albany/Leesburg area to become certified by the Georgia Taxidermy Association in mounting game heads, birds, small animals, and fish. Over the years, he has generously taken many of his friends on their first hunt or first fishing trip, has shared with them his intimate knowledge of our native wildlife, and, ultimately converted them to become avid outdoorsmen. Many young boys tell tales about how they got their first taste of the great outdoors by following in Mr. Reeds footsteps. This man has spent years rambling in the local woods, streams and swamps. Fearlessly, he gigged frogs while wading among the alligators, caught rattlesnakes barehanded, and pulled many other stunts that often caused me, his wife, to seriously doubt his sanity. Reeds Taxidermy Studio was a frequent gathering place for showing off racks, swapping stories, and good-natured ribbing about the one that got away. It was, therefore, seemingly unimaginable when the news broke that this rugged outdoorsman had been brought down by a tiny little mosquito. Nonetheless, it was true. It was just a week prior to a planned pheasant-hunting trip to South Dakota, when the first symptoms of fever, chills and severe headache appeared. At first, it seemed to be just a case of the flu. By the third day, however, the headache was, according to Reed, on the scale of 1-10 at least a 50. He then began to experience severe tremors and could not hold a spoon or fork or drink from a glass without my holding it for him. He was falling asleep in between bites as I tried to feed him. That is when I took charge and carried him to the emergency room, despite his many protestations. After 12 hours of demurral, IV fluids, x-rays, blood work, and a cat scan, the pain was bearable, but no cause for it could be determined and he was admitted to the hospital for more tests. After 4 days in the hospital, he was sent home with the prognosis that it was a severe meningoen cephalitis 28 due to the West Nile Virus and that it might be 6 months to a year before he would recover. Apparently, a pesky infected mosquito had bitten him while he was doing yard work and cleaning our dock on the Muckalee Creek a couple of weeks earlier. After 3-4 weeks, he began to make tiny baby steps of progress. Each day he seemed just a little stronger and the tremors seemed to decrease. Each time he became overconfident and overextended himself, the headache would get worse and the tremors would increase. A doctor friend told me, Go home and start making Reed take some of those fish oil capsules. Those things are brain food. He was right! Within several days after starting on the fish oil capsules, we could see noticeable rapid improvement. For this avid outdoorsman to be confined to his bed or a lounge chair for weeks and months was almost as unbearable as that first headache pain had been. Gradually he was able to walk one or two laps through the house each day. But, his greatest feeling of accomplishment was in late December (two months after the onset) when his best friend, Mike Doyal, was able to take him to our hunting land and help him into a deer stand for a couple of hours. Mike gave him a whistle and said, Now if you get to feeling tired, just blow that whistle and 11 come back to get you down. Reed did not get a deer that day, but he didnt have to blow the whistle, and that outing gave him the hope and confidence that he was going to recover. And he did. However, he never goes outside anymore without being armed with his Deet spray .He doesnt intend to lose another feud with a pesky mosquito. Glenna Hatfield Only In a Small Town Only in a small town where everyone knows everyone do you find that everyone cares. When I was in the seventh grade in the late twenties our neighbors (Mr. and Mrs. Hall) asked my parents to drive them to see a relative. After church Daddy, Mama (Joseph and Helen Johnson) Mr. and Mrs. Hall and I drove to Tifton. As we were nearing the house, a young drunk man drove out of a side street at great speed and hit our car on the side. All of us were taken to the Tifton Hospital. The boy was not hurt. Mr. Hall was not okay. Daddy had a cut on his head. Mrs. Hall, Mama, and I were hurt pretty bad. We were rushed to Phoebe Putney Memorial Hospital. Mrs. Hall was checked out and 29 sent home. Mama and I were in the hospital over a week then sent home. Mama had two pelvis breaks and a cracked hip bone. I had a broken collar bone and could not walk. I remember when we arrived at Phoebe that night; I thought everyone in Leesburg was there. When Mama and I came home it was the same. My principal, Jim Mitchell picked me up and carried me in the house. A few days later a circus came to town. The circus had an elephant the only elephant to ever be in Leesburg. Mama and I could not walk. Our cook, Ann, told me you would be able to see the parade from our kitchen window. A circus parade with an elephant in Leesburg!! Ann said she would help me if I would try to walk AND I DID! Mama and I recovered with the help of many neighbors and friends. Gwen Johnson Seanor Small Town Caring Many years later in the 40s, there was another instance of small town caring, I would walk to the Post Office every morning about the same time as Judge Martin. We would talk a while. This happened for about eight months everyday. One morning I didnt get to the Post Office Judge Martin was worried so when he reached his office he called his sister (Edith Martin) to see if she knew what might be wrong. She told him I had had a baby the night before- a boy (Larry Guilbeau). Judge Martin was shocked. He told his sister-NO- SHE WASNT BIG- only in a small town would anyone notice! Gwen Johnson Seanor A Cold Hand During the 50s and 60s I think those years are correct. Our Post Office was not so large. The people working there could see people as they came and usually said hello. Most times I would rush in to get the mail. My box was above eye-level. I had to reach up and put my hand inside and pull the mail out. Many times when Thad Gibson was working there, there would be a cold hand in my box. I was always shocked. I usually cried out. You could always hear chuckles from the workers. Here again that would not happen except in a small town. Gwen Johnson Seanor 30 Foots Would you believe that in a small town people even care and know your dog? Its true! I would let my dog out of his pen to run around when I got home after teaching. One afternoon it was almost dark, Foots had not come back. I called and called. No Foots. I was about to get in my car and go looking. A police car drove in the driveway. John Wheaton (a policeman at that time) picked up Foots out of his car and laid him on the ground. At first I thought he was dead, but then he moved his head a little. John said He wasnt dead but just tired and worn out. John found him lying by the side of a street; Foots had been following a female in heat. I washed Foots down with the hose to cool him off. Only in a small town. Gwen Johnson Seanor Wheres Larry Only in a small town where people care, most everyone even knows the names of the children. After my husbands death, I had moved back to Leesburg in the 40s with my children (Larry and Ken Guilbeau). One day Ken and I were in a back room of the house so I could see Larry in the backyard with his new tricycle. As I was sewing I could watch him out of the window. Sometime later the phone rang. When I answered some man asked if I knew where my son, Larry was. My heart must have stopped. Johnny Groover told me that Larry was almost at the end of the sidewalk-beyond all the houses at that time- on U.S. Highway 19 South. I left Ken with my mama (Helen Johnson) and ran. Larry was okay but tired. He had to petal all the way back after a scolding. Gwen Johnson Seanor Sun Pond When my sons, Larry and Ken Guilbeau were 10 and 12, Little George Moreland was so kind to them. He called me and told me that I could take them fishing or hunting at the Sun Pond. This was so wonderful for them. Their grandfather (Joseph Johnson) had taught them hunting safety and taught them to fish. We will always be grateful to him. Gwen Johnson Seanor 31 Fishin and Other Stuff Living on the old dirt road, that is now Highway 118, there wasnt a lot to do. Sometimes a bunch of boys would get together and go fishin. Now there are lots of ways boys can get a mess of fish if they really put their minds to it. Sometimes we would go to a pond, take a hoe and muddy the water and when the fish came to the top we would scoop them up with a bucket in our hands. One night we caught some fish this way and had a fire going in a com field behind Dennards store. We were cooking fish and having a good time. There were a few peach trees nearby so our meal consisted of fried fish and peaches. We were doing good until Cousin Bobby steeped in the frying pan of hot grease that someone had just taken off the fire and put on the ground. He was barefoot. Kinda put an early end to the fish fry. We were mudding up another pond one afternoon and we had caught several fish when someone reached in around some tree roots along the bank and yelled out he had a big eel. He pulled it out and he was holding a large cottonmouth. End of that fishing trip. Another method we used to catch fish was to put baskets in the ditches in the spring when ponds and creeks would be high with run-off from the spring rains. We would always catch fish this way. One spring Daddy had a few baskets in Muckalee Creek. One day as we were going down the creek in a boat, I was in the front pulling up baskets. I pulled up one that was tied to a limb. The basket had several bream in it. There was also a large otter in the basket, apparently to eat the fish. When I pulled the basket into the boat the otter was staring at me. He was dead but I didnt know it. It scared me so bad that I threw the basket with the otter in it back into the creek. Daddy got the basket out and took the otter home, cured the hide and sold it. I didnt want to pull anymore baskets in for a long time after that incident. Several years later Daddy had a basket in a ditch that came from Eagle Pond. We lived across the highway from the pond. I would check the baskets every day after school. One afternoon I walked thru the woods to the ditch, reached down and put my fingers through the mesh wire and lifted the basket. I think there were some fish in it, but all I saw was a big cottonmouth smiling at me, just like that otter had. I dont remember ever pulling any more baskets. Sometime we would walk to Muckalee Creek and set out some hooks to try to catch catfish. When we caught some we would fry them for supper. But just in case we didnt catch any, we always carried some fat back and 32 hoecake bread with us. We also took coffee. We made the coffee by filling up a syrup can with creek water, putting it on the fire and letting it boil. Then we threw in a handful of coffee. Now if you dont think this will keep you awake all night just try it sometimes. We had to stay up and keep the fire going to keep the wildcats back. I dont know how big they were but they sounded huge when they screamed. TomUsiy Family Life in the City of Leesburg The Paul Stamps family was very family oriented. Mother and Daddy were Paul and Evie Stamps. Their five children were, Edgar, Paula, Irma, Ronny and Cecil. We had lived in Albany where Daddy worked for the Central of Georgia railroad. Our parents decided they wanted to raise their family in a small town where the people knew one another and cared for everyone. They would ride around from one small town to another. They wanted a town that was not far from Albany because of Daddys job. He found out Mr. Gant wanted to sell their large house and live in their small one. Daddy and Mr. Gant came to an agreement and our parents bought that house from Mr. Gant. The house was in a real good location, just across the street from Mr. & Mrs. T. C. Tharp. We moved into this house and immediately began to meet new friends. We lived now only a half block from school, about two blocks from church and probably about five blocks from town and the post office. There was no home mail delivery. Everyone who lived in Leesburg had a post office box in the post office to receive their mail. And it was only about ten miles from Albany where Daddy worked. Later, Mother also worked in Albany. We immediately started going to church at Leesburg Baptist Church, where we later became members. Mother and Daddy were Christians and made sure we got into Sunday School and Church. And we children enjoyed training union on Sunday nights. Before we moved from Albany, we lived in the country where there was no church close enough for us to go. So, Mother talked with a Minister of a church and he agreed to come to our house on Sunday afternoon and have services there where neighbors came too. Mother taught the Sunday School lessons to the children who came before the minister arrived. As 33 children, we enjoyed that, but it wasnt like being in church. At Leesburg Baptist Church we would have dinner on the grounds after church one or two times a year. This was usually at homecoming or Easter. Even after I got married and had children and lived away, we would go back for homecoming and enjoy the service as well as the good food the Leesburg women, who were all good cooks, would bring. Those were exciting times. Edgar and I were in the seventh grade when we moved to Leesburg. Irma was in grammar school. Ronny and Cecil were too young for school when we first moved there. Edgar and I loved the school and were involved in all activities, especially basketball which we really loved. He was a member of the boys team and I was a member of the girls team. Mother and Daddy liked basketball and went to most of the games. Mother played basketball when she was in high school. Leesburg was a very friendly and caring community where everyone knew and cared for their neighbor. In this small town, everyone was your neighbor. If a person in Leesburg died, all the stores in town closed during the funeral out of respect for that person. Most then went to the funeral and opened the stores again after the funeral was over. After Mother went to work in Albany, she and Daddy rode to work and back together. On days we didnt have a ballgame or had to practice after school, Edgar and I took turns cooking supper and cleaning the house so both would be done when our parents got home from work. Mine and Edgars senior class was the last class to graduate in eleven years. We graduated in May and I got married in August. Edgar was to go into the Navy after graduation but made arrangements to wait until I got married to leave for the Navy. He then left about a week later. I cant imagine having two of my children leave home at almost the same time. It must have been hard on Mother and Daddy at first. We were such a close knit family. Then there were only three children at home. Irma was entering high school and was a lot of help to Mother. She always loved playing with her dolls. She said from the time she was very young that all she wanted to be was a wife and mother. She now had two little brothers she looked after when school was out. Ronny and Cecil both were in school by now. She was happy doing this and it did give her good training. She certainly was a good wife and mother when she got married and had her children, Vicki and Greg. Even though she loved her home life looking after her brothers and cooking etc. that was not all she did. She had her riends that she enjoyed. Eunice Culpepper who was a dear best friend through out the years. Laura Jean Breeden was also a dear friend. They all seemed to have a lot 34 in common especially Irma and Eunice. Later after all were married, pretty Laura Jean died at such a young age. This was a sad day. After Irma graduated from high school she joined the Air Force. She wanted to be where she could see as much of our United States and the world as she could. However, she never did get out of the States. She was trained to be a dental technician in the Air Force. It was while she was working in the dental office of the Air Force that an Airman by the name of Ralph E. Kielsmeier came in for a dental appointment. They met, sparks began to fly and they started dating. Later they were married in Leesburg Baptist Church. I made her wedding dress and the attendants dresses. It was a beautiful wedding. She made a beautiful bride. She had the most beautiful red hair of anyone. Now, she was married, later had her two children and was happy being the wife and mother she had always wanted to be. Later years her children had her some grandchildren. Now she was a happy lady to have her children who were now grown and had given her those precious grandchildren. She was indeed a good mother and grandmother that she was cut out to be. She has since passed away and is missed so by all her loved ones and friends. Ronny and Cecil were boys who at a young age loved one another but also loved to fight, as well as play and climb trees. As they did so many days, on this particular day they were climbing the chinaberry tree. Cedi climbed up and somehow he fell out of the tree and it knocked the breath out of him. He just lay there and did not move. This frightened his brother, Ronny. Ronny went to him to see if he was breathing, he was not. Ronny checked him again and he still was not breathing. Ronny was scared but started CPR on Cecil to get him to breath. Sure enough he began to breath. Ronny didnt think it was such a big deal, he just helped his brother get his breath and start breathing again. But Mother said Ronny did actually save Cecils life. She was very grateful for that as we all were. But, you know what? That did not stop them from climbing trees. As we all know, boys will be boys. Later, after Irma had left with the Air Force, only two children, Ronny and Cecil were at home. They were still young but in school. Daddy became sick. He was in and out of the hospital both in Albany and Savannah at the Central of Georgia hospital. They still could not find his problem, even though he was in a lot of pain most of the time. The last year of his life he spent in the hospital in Savannah except for twice when he was able to come home for only a couple of days at a time before he had to go back due to the pain. The last few months of his life he needed someone to be with him at the hospital. Even though Mother had to work, her boss let her off often to go stay with Daddy. She and I took turns 35 staying a week or so with him. Depending on how he was, we sometime were there at the same time. Many times I took my small children with me and took the maid, Minnie with me to take care of the children. But Daddy was able to see them for a short time. Edgar lived in Valdosta with his family and had to work and could not get off for long periods of time. He would come on weekends to be with Daddy when he could. Irma came home on leave for a few days before Daddy got real bad but we could all see that he was getting worse. Knowing someone needed to be with him day and night, Irma put in for a hardship discharge so she could go to Savannah and stay with Daddy. She was able to get the discharge, but Daddy died a day or two before she got home. This was hard on Irma. She wanted so badly to be able to be with him and take care of him the best she could. Several of us family members were with him when he died including his two sisters, Ophie and Nina. This was a sad day for all of us. Later Ronny graduated from high school and joined the Navy. Cecil was still so young when Daddy died and was still in school. He later got a job and started working. It wasnt but a few months after Daddy died that Cecil went to work for the Wingfields and traveled with them to help look after their horses. He was able to travel some. Later he married the love of his life, Marie Rainwater who also lived in Leesburg and they had been pals long before they fell in love and got married. Mother and Daddy had three of their five children serve their country in military service. Two in the United States Navy and one in the United States Air Force. All five were married and had wonderful children and grandchildren. I love ALL my siblings and want to see them as often as possible. We try to have a family reunion at least once a year and hope that all siblings and their families can be together as often as possible. Daddy was bom December 7,1903 and died October 25,1956. Mother was bom July 27,1910 and died March 19,1992. Irma was bom November 3,1937 and died March 22,2005. Those of us who are left, have a big void in our life with our Mother, Daddy and Sister gone. We are close, love one another and look forward to seeing all our family again one day. Paula Stamps Smith 36 m Ronny Stamps Irma Stamps Edgar Stamps Kielsmeier Walter and Geneva Some people come into our lives and leave a footprint on our hearts. Walter Winky Scott and his wife, Geneva, lived across the street from us at one time. Becky had a little white dog named Heidi that her grandfather gave her when we first moved down here in 1980. She loved that little dog and they played together in the backyard all the time. The Scotts had watched her playing with that dog and knew how much she loved it. One day Heidi was walking down the side of the street when a fast car came along, hit the dog, and kept going. Walter saw it all happen. Becky was devastated as we all were. That night Bill called me into the kitchen. There was Walter and Geneva standing there holding their most precious possession, their little, white, fluffy dog, Snowball. Snowball was like their child and they loved it so much. With tears in his eyes, Walter handed the dog to Bill and said, Mr. Bill, I want you to have Snowball for the little girl. We knew we couldnt take their dog and it took a lot of crying and persuading to get Walter and Geneva to keep their little dog. But, that night in my kitchen, I glimpsed the face of God when Walter and Geneva wanted to give up their most precious possession to bring hope, peace, and joy back into a little girls life. Sandy Caldbeck Here Comes Bonnie!!!!!!!! To all pet owners, animals are special, however there was one of ours in particular that was very special to us. Bonnie, was her name... .a mixed breed (Heinz 57, but mostly of the German shepherd family) was bom under the house of my parents in Lumpkin, Georgia. Her mother, whom we called Littler Girl, (who incidentally was very large and a stray who had shown up from who knows where) had taken up residence under the house. It was there that she gave birth to not one, not two, not three, but TWELVE little offsprings. Needless to say, my parents could not care for this many puppies; thus, one came home to Leesburg with us on one of our Lumpkin visits. Now Bonnie grew up as any other dog and became a large gentle loving pet. She was brownish, black with a white neck and throat. She never was one to roam about as dogs could before the days of the leash law. However, there was one exception to her behavior: She was PETRIFIED OF BAD WEATHER! When threatening weather became an issue, Bonnie, upon the first clap of thunder, or bolt of lightning, would leave our house (we live on Linden Road) cross over US 19, over the railroad tracks, proceed to the south end of the courthouse, where my husband, Page, worked. At this point, she would push the door open, go into his office, shaking and trembling because of the weather. This happened on so many occasions that a push on the door was recognized by the office personnel who would then exclaim, HERE COMES BONNIE! Patricia Tharp Miss Kate Harris, Unofficial Historian Miss Kate Harris was a longtime postmistress of Leesburg, unofficial historian of Lee County and correspondent for a daily newspaper with wide circulation. She loved Lee County and wanted to preserve its history. In the 1930s Miss Kate wrote an article about George Larsen, a native of Denmark, who had immigrated to the United States and after living in several states moved to a Lee County farm where he spent the remainder of his life. This article follows. 38 Making a Living on a Georgia Farm By: Kate Harris Making a living on a Lee County Georgia farm is the easiest thing in the world. This remark, unusual at any time, or any place in Georgia, was made by George Larsen who owns 850 acres in Lee County, bordering on the Sumter County Line. When Mr. Larsen bought this farm 12 years ago, the people in the neighborhood laughed about it and also at him, because the land was considered extremely poor. Just a piece of land to hold the world together, one of the neighbors said. What are you going to do with such a place? Mr. Larsens reply was,Oh, I made a little moneyin Florida and have come here to spend it. lS ( Now, the land that 12 years ago was considered so poor by those who had lived near it for a lifetime is considered the most valuable in the county on a comparative basis. Mr. Larsen was bom in Denmark, which he remembers as a land of small, well-tended farms. As a boy of 12 he came to his country in 1879 with his parents, Mr. And Mrs. Mat Larsen. They settled in Wisconsin. Their method of making a living was laughed at by their Wisconsin neighbors. The senior Mr. Larsen got his start by buying large quantities of cattle feed and converting it into beef for the markets. This was a new procedure in the neighborhood, but soon others followed his example and were profiting by it. George Larsen has lived in four states, but says he is settled for the remainder of his life in Lee County. He says, I like the people. I like the climate, and the taxes are lower than in any other place I have ever lived. Having lived in four states, I feel qualified to speak on the subject. Mr. Larsens first move from Wisconsin, with its below-zero winter weather, was to Madison County, Mississippi. Here he bought a run-down farm with dilapidated buildings for $5.00 per acre. His neighbors told him that he was paying a dear price for the place. He lived there ten years. In addition to making a good living for his family, he improved the soil and remodeled the run-down farm buildings to such and extent that he sold out for $50.00 per acre. From Mississippi he went to Florida, where he remained eight years. He came away with enough money to buy the Lee County farm. Having learned of cattle from his grandparents in Denmark, Mr. Larsen began here with common 39 Georgia cows and gradually improved his herd until he now has 36 milk cows. His farm is fenced and cross-fenced, making eleven pastures. He did not sell the milk but the cream. This he has found requires less labor and is more profitable. What this country needs is more cows, he said. I would be glad to see my neighbors start in with at least ten milk cows each, and have some one to take the cream to market as it is done in the North where the bucks visit the farms and pick up the milk cans.. His last weeks cream check amounted to $55.25, and this was an average week. The cream is sold in Albany, a distance of about thirty miles. Mr. Larsen co-operates with the Triple A program and is the only farmer in the county to receive allotments for four crops. They are wheat, cotton, tobacco and peanuts. For improving the soil, he has used crotalaria, lespedeza, Austrian whiter peas, velvet beans, soybeans and field peas. In the eleven pastures he uses grass mixtures and clovers. Last year he planted 30 acres in wheat for home consumption. Other crops include watermelons and cantaloupes, com and sugar cane. A year round garden is maintained. An average of thirty tons of peanuts and thirty bales of cotton are produced. About forty calves are on the farm now. When put on the market they will bring top prices. They are fed on skim milk, which is also used in feeding pigs. The surplus meat of about a ton is usually disposed of to the farm laborers. Fryers are also an additional source of revenue. During the depression years, when lumber and other building material were cheap, Mr. Larsen made extensive improvements. He assisted in all this work himself. Timber on the place was exchanged for lumber at a near by mill. One of the most attractive country homes in this section was built for the family and another for a married son. Five large bams and two smaller ones were built and tenant houses improved. Farm laborers are paid weekly at the rate of 75 cents per day. They are furnished a home and are permitted to have a garden, chickens, hogs and a cow and are given all the skim milk that they can use. Only five men and their families are needed for the operation of the farm. Five wells and a spring furnish water. Kate Harris 40 A Joke That Backfired Many years ago in time long past, it was the custom, and in some cases necessary, that someone sit up with the dead during the night hours. Thus, this became the lot of my great-granddaddy, Andrew Addison Paul and one of his friends. While sitting with the corpse in the casket, they decided to put some sweet potatoes in the ashes of the fireplace and eat them later during the night. As time passed, his friend kept going to sleep, and nothing seemed to keep him awake. My granddaddy tried everything to wake him, but to no avail. Becoming quite agitated over this, and since now there was no one to talk to, Granddaddy decided to play a joke on his friend, some saying that he was quite good at such a thing. He propped the dead man up in his casket, extended his right arm and placed one of the sweet potatoes in the corpses hand. He then went outside, took a cane fishing pole, poked it through a crack in the window, and jostled his sleepy friend calling out Wake up, Wake up, Wake up! His friend then woke up, saw the dead man sitting up in the casket with arm extended and holding the potato in his hand. With a blood-curdling scream, he leaped to his feet and flew out of the house! Granddaddy bent over with laughter, kept yelling Come back; come back; come back, but he never did return. My granddaddy soon realized that the joke was really on him, as he had to spend the rest of the night by himself alone. It has been said, however, that he continued to play jokes from time to time, but he kept his word to never again put a sweet potato in a dead mans hand!!! Page Tharp Lee County Primary School Named National School of Excellence The Lee County School System was receiving rapid growth in the 1970s. A large number of families with young children were moving into the county seeking good schools. This rapid growth required more classrooms, more teachers and support personnel. The schools were fast developing a reputation for high quality, 41 with two schools being named Georgia Schools of Excellence. Because of the good reputation, the number of applicants for teaching jobs was multiplying rapidly. In 1987, a new school, Lee County Primary School, was built to house kindergarten, first and second grades. With an abundance of applications, the school was able to choose only the best applicants to fill vacancies. Soon the school had become a focal point for quality instruction. Teachers were willing to put in extra hours to accommodate conferences with the parents who were working and much emphasis was placed on parental involvement The scores in this school were tops in the state and schools from all ova- South Georgia began visiting the school to learn what was happening here. A large group of Georgias Elementary Principals came to visit the school while attending the Georgia Association of Elementary Principals conference in nearby Albany. The entire faculty and staff were committed to excellence and creativity, which was evident in every area of the school. There was a spirit of cooperation which permeated the atmosphere at all levels within the school. In 1989, Lee County Primary was named a Georgia State School of Excellence. A large group of teachers, administrators, parents and a student attended the Awards Banquet in Atlanta to receive the state honor. Paige Martin, a second grade student was the youngest student there and gave an outstanding acceptance speech in receiving the award for the school. In 1990, Lee County Primary was designated a National School of Excellence, the only elementary level school in Southwest Georgia to receive this honor. The school was notified that an official would visit the school to verify that the school did indeed deserve the honor. Teachers, parents, students and personnel were to be interviewed. The parents and school personnel were so excited and joined efforts to get the building and grounds ready for the visit. Parents planted flowers in every comer, the building was checked for cleanliness and every thing looked great. On March 31, Channel 10 TV predicted a big host for the next day, April 1, the day the visitor would be there. Henry Jackson, head custodian, was asked to place cardboard over the tender young flowers for the night and remove them early the next morning before the visit. Around eight o clock on the next morning, Mrs. Cannon, the Principal arrived with the official, only to discover the cardboard was still on the flowers. This was so shocking because Henry was so reliable. Luckily, the official did not notice the flower beds because she was more interested in the archi- tecture of the buildings. When Mrs. Cannon and the visitor arrived at the doors to the school, Henry Jackson opened the doors and said to the visitor, Morning, Maam, were glad you could visit our school! Mrs. Cannon realized that Henry 42 knew that this was a big day and that he was a vital part of the celebration. This was the kind of spirit that earned the school such a high honor. Everyone, teachers, administrators, paraprofessionals, custodians, lunchroom personnel, students and parents were all pulling together and producing a learning climate which enabled each child to perform their best! Later that year, a representative group from the school, Mrs. Opal Cannon, Principal, Mrs. Mary Barrett, Asst. Principal, Courtney Kile, Student, and Linda Kile, Parent went to Washington, D.C. to receive the Award. As the sign in front of the school says, Lee County Primary School is AVery Special Place to Learn. Hats off to a wonderful team! Opal R. Cannon Mama and the Squirrel As a 4th generation Lee Countian I have always been proud of and appreciated the beauty and richness of this sleepy Southwest Georgia community. Now one of the fastest growing counties in the country, its safe to say our secret is out. In Lee County agriculture still rules much of the region. My familys farm is nestled in northeast Lee County along the banks of the Flint River and is surrounded by larger plantations so it retains the illusion of a bygone era. My mother, Joanne Tauber, still lives on the old farm, in a house in the woods and sees a wide range of critters regularly. Two giant hawks live high in the trees overhead. Mama swears they wait till she comes outside so they can dive-bomb her. Deer are abundant so the sight of a fawn eating out of her cats food bowl comes as no surprise to anyone- except maybe the cat. On Sundays after church I frequently follow mother home to spend the day and bring relaxing clothes to change into. Monday morning after one of my visits, mother headed to the mailbox for her paper and caught sights of something strange. What does that squirrel have? she thought. A gray fox squirrel, larger than a house cat, makes daily trips around the yard. Mother was not surprised to see him, but she was curious about what he was dragging. She started toward him mumbling, What are you doing? The fox squirrel saw her coming, but refused to drop his prize, becoming more earnest in his efforts to make it to the trees. Mothers step quickened and the fox squirrel 43 pulled harder. It was now a race, one my mother won, though I knew the squirrel had to make just one move in her direction to send her fleeing in terror. I only wish I had been there to see it! Mother won the game of nerves and the squirrel finally had to surrender his found treasure and retreat to the nearest tree. From the safety of a big oak he looked back over his shoulder. He had been so close but thered be no prize today. As she reached the spot where the squirrel gave up, mother looked down. She cocked her head from side to side, reached down and picked up the black, silky item. She could not believe her eyes. Newspaper forgotten, she headed inside as the squirrel gave her the evil eye, plotting his revenge. Mother called me at work. Guess what I did this morning? she asked in her youre not going to believe this tone. What? I knew it was useless to guess. From past experiences it could have been anything. I went to get my paper and saw that big ole gray fox squirrel dragging something black. I chased him down and you know what he had? I already told her I didnt know, but played along, No, what? I saved it for you, was all she said. What had she saved for me that a fox squirrel had and I would want? What? What? What did you save for me? I had played into her hands. I didnt believe it at first, she said- teasing me- dragging the tale out. That squirrel had your black slip! He was taking it to his nest to strip pieces, but I saved it! How had that squirrel gotten my undergarment? Then it hit me- of course! I must have dropped it on the way to my car when I left her house yesterday. I could just see it- the squirrel first finding the slip, curious and then amazed at his good fortune. Im sure his little squirrel mind was awhirl at the possibilities of his find. He almost got away too, until mother entered the picture. I could just see the determination in his little squirrel eyes as he hurried toward his tree with the slip in tow. Then the sad resignation on his furry little face as he realized the prize was lost. I laughed as I imagined mother chasing down the squirrel to find out what he had. GO MOM! She said she would bring my slip by tomorrow. I thanked her, but was laughing too hard and had to hang up. After that we found large hard green sticky pinecones scattered in her driveway. It meant instant death if one hit you on the head when they fell. We 44 took this as a veiled fox squirrel threat that held grim connotations for Mother. After that when going to the mailbox Mother was like a guerrilla fighter, tiptoeing from tree to tree as she made her way to the road, all the while watching for the squirrel or one of his furry friends. Mother made peace with that fox squirrel, at least thats her story. Of course, she drives to collect both the paper and mail now. I think shes smart because that squirrel wouldnt give up so easily next time. Donna Tauber King Gathering of the Greens On occasions in the spring, Bobby and I have invited descendants of the first Green settlers in Lee County to our house. Sometimes weve had as many as fifty who attended and some from as far away as Florida and North Carolina. After getting acquainted and talking about genealogy, our distant relatives wanted to visit the Green Cemeteries on our farm and on Gray Moss Farm, owned by Charles Crisp, to locate the graves of their ancestors. After the search we invited them back to our house for refreshments and more visiting with kin. Our daughters, Carol Ann and Melody, always enjoyed the company and looked forward to the next time the Greens would come. Soon after Christmas they began asking, When are we going to have another cemetery party? I answered, That doesnt sound very inviting. (Instantly, I had a mental picture of collards and turnips.) Just call it a Gathering of the Greens. Betty Ann Clay Riding to the Cotton Gin When I was a little girl in the 1950s, the mechanized cotton picker was not in wide spread use, if at all in Lee County. All the cotton had to be picked by hand by farm workers and day laborers. Unlike today, when you went by a cotton field, you could look and see exactly which rows had been picked. All the cotton was gone on the rows that were picked, not just some of it. 45 On the late fall afternoons; I would go with my daddy and brothers to the cotton field that was being picked that day. Those that had picked that day would gather with their cotton sacks that they had drug behind them that day and filled with cotton. Everyone was paid in cash at the end of the day for the amount picked. All the cotton had to be weighed on the spot. To do this, a big burlap square was placed on the ground. Each person would dump the contents of their sack onto it one at a time. The four comers of the square would be pulled up and hooked to stay together during the weighing. The cotton was then hooked to a scale, and the two strongest men would hoist it onto their shoulders as the scale hung from a fence post or a strong limb between the two men. My daddy would read the scale, and the bag would be placed back on the ground. While the person who picked that bundle was paid by the number of pounds picked, it would be taken over and dumped into a wagon or on the back of a side bodied truck. After all the cotton had been weighed and everyone paid, it was time to get the cotton to the gin. By this time it was usually dark, so wed go home, eat supper and go to the gin after we ate. Now this was my favorite time of the day. I got to ride on the cotton to the gin. I was too young to ride by myself so my mama or brothers would have to be with me for safety. Id get on the wagon or into the back of the truck and bounce around like a little bunny rabbit all over that cotton. As we went to Leslie to the gin, I would lie back on the cotton and sometimes cover myself up withit. Id pick the seed out of some of the bolls. Sometimes Id throw it at my brothers. When in a wagon and being pulled by a tractor, sometimes sparks would come from the tractor stack and land on the cotton. I imagined myself a fireman and would pinch out the sparks on the cotton as it began to bum. Little did I know at that age that a fire in cotton is a possibility. As we would drive the six or so miles to the gin, I often just lay back and looked up at the crystal clear night sky. On many nights the moon would be high and bright in the sky. As we rode along, the landscape of fields and neighbors and friends houses would be beautifully visible in the moonlight. The air would be crisp and cool to flat out cold. I never cared though, because I was as happy as any child could be. Charlene Usry 46 Small Town Memories The best memories of small town living are the ones that are told by the old buildings. Downtown Leesburg has a lot of old buildings that tell some of the best stories you will ever hear. As a child, I can still remember great volumes of information just beginning from the all important question - Who lives or works there? Alan Long A Grandmothers Last Gift My mother, Jane Tison McRee, died on February 9,2003. Several months after her death, we were packing up some of her things and came across a box of unused cookbooks published by the Smith ville Garden Club in 1977. One of her granddaughters said she would like to have one. So I reached into the box and gave her one to take home. That night I got an excited phone call from her. To her surprise when she opened the cookbook she found a note addressed to her from her grandmother written in 1978. The next day we searched the box of cookbooks, and as we had hoped, found two other cookbooks each one addressed to her other two granddaughters and also dated 1978. We assume that mamas intentions were to write a message to each of the girls and give them the cookbook when they were older. She evidently put these three books back in the box with the others and they stayed in there lost and forgotten for over twenty-five years. It has been difficult for us to believe that this was just a coincidence. That out of a whole box of forgotten books, we would randomly pick up a book and give it to the one person for whom it had been intended twenty-five years ago. I guess that coincidence is the only rational explanation. But we choose to believe that Mama found a way to give her granddaughters one last gift. Claudia McRee Copeland 47 Cookie Fun One day, on February 2007, at my grandmas work under some dangerous equipment, there was a little black and white Manx! She was so shy under there... Tuesday, my grandma was done working, she took her home! Wednesday, at school and daycare I took notes and at 5:00 p.m., I went home and showed the names that I had taken down to my mom and then my grandma. Grandma liked... Cookie for her name! And now, Cookie is ten months old already Cheyenne Brown The All Important Road Trip Living in Lee County always provided a wealth of knowledge about so many different things. Being one of four brothers, we always provided our own entertainment. How our parents ever got us all ready for the same trip, at the same time, in the same vehicle seems like such an accomplishment in todays fast paced lifestyle. Alan Long Xena She weighs roughly 85 pounds and looks like she might have some Rottweiler in her blood line, but Xena is the gendest dog I have even known. My father got her as a puppy but was unable to keep her when he moved to a smaller place. So Xena came to live with my family. She fit right in to our dirt road, county way of life. Every morning she can be found scouting out her territory with her nose to the ground like a trusty bloodhound. In the evening she sleeps in front of the front door. Nothing special so far, right? Well, let me tell you... Xena has, several times, captured the little Pomeranian that also lives with us. She follows that ball of fur across the yard, loping along in front of her sometimes to turn her around, pushing her in the right direction with a huge paw , and shaking her massive head like a mother with an errant child. Eventually, Peanut gets the message and runs back to the house. Xena is protective of all of her friends though. 48 Our rabbit loves to dig burrows in his fenced pen. With the ground for a floor, it is natural that his borrows sometimes extend beyond the fence. When that happens the rabbit makes a hopping escape to various parts of the yard. Once he ventured close to the wilderness area when I know I could not catch him. Just about the time we gave up and decided he would become a wild bunny, Xena came to the rescue. Now, keep in mind that this is a dog that brings me gifts of rabbits she has caught in the field, rabbits she particularly enjoys cleaning her teeth on. When she bounded off the porch towards the rabbit, I thought for sure it was the end of it. Instead Xena slowed down just in front of the rabbit and lowered her head slowly. Gently, she began to nudge the rabbit back up the hill, in the direction of his pen. Every once in a while the rabbit would quit hopping, whereupon, Xena would push him forward with her nose. As the rabbit neared the pen, I opened the gate and stood back in wonder. Xena led the rabbit right through the gate, gave him a good wet lick on his head and sat back as I closed the gate. She has repeated this feat a few other times and many are the mornings I have seen her greeting the rabbit with her nose against the fence and the rabbit on his hind legs stretching close enough to exchange nose kisses. Xena also protects her ducks from other predators, of which we have plenty out on Lumpkin Road. She loves to chase the ducks back to the pond when they get too close to the house but she does not like anything else getting too close to the ducks either. She has been seen chasing off a few foxes, a coyote who did manage to get away with a duck, and to bark furiously at birds of prey circling overhead. She feels it is her due to have some of the ducks bread when they are being fed. I guess it is only right, after all, she earns it. The most special relationship Xena has with another living being is with our granddaughter. From the time we first put Rhiannon on a quilt under the Bradford pear tree, Xena has been her protector. She sat right at the edge of the quilt and whined every time the baby made a noise. When Rhiannon began walking, Xena was there to lean on and have her tail tugged when wobbly little girl legs gave out. If you see Rhiannon riding her bike down the driveway, or running across the yard, you will see Xena close behind. Once, to see what she would do, we left the baby sleeping under the tree and walked away to the porch. Xena became very upset with us for leaving her little girl. She shook her head, moaned in misery and walked in circles around the quilt until we returned. Then she licked our hands and resumed her rightful position- lying quietly at the edge of the quilt to watch over her girl. 49 An excellent watchdog, her looks are menacing, a wonderful protector, gentle as a lamb, Xena is indeed the Wonderdog that our granddaughter has nicknamed her. She is indeed a good ol dog. Debra Smith Memories of my years in Leesburg bring to mind the sweetest, most remarkable lady you could ever know, Miss Pauline Tharp. We lived across the street from the Tharps. There were Mr. & Mrs. Tharp and Page, their son who at that time was in high school. Mr. Tharp was one of the nicest gentlemen in every sense of the word. He was a quiet man who went to work every day and took care of his family. Their son Page was a typical good guy that they could be and were very proud of. Miss Pauline, as she was affectionately known walked most every place she went She enjoyed walking. She did more for the people of Leesburg than we could ever tell or even remember. When there was a program or activity at school where a piano was needed, Miss Pauline was there. She was there for the students practice as well as the programs. She was there to play the piano at chapel and all other activities where needed. The remarkable thing was, she truly enjoyed every minute of it. She also played the piano at Leesburg Baptist Church for years for most all services. She was there for weddings and funerals doing what she did so well, playing that piano. F m not sure she realized just how much we all appreciated her. Rhiannon Belcher & Xena Aaron Hutchinson, Rhiannon, & Xena Miss Pauline 50 Many days, I would walk across the street to see her and she would go in and play for me. She could play anything, the soft melodies so popular back then, the jazz and classical as well as religious. You name it and she could play it. Miss Pauline also wrote music. I dont know if she ever did, but I am sure she could have published some of her own pieces if she had looked into it She once told me she thought of it but I do not know if she ever did. My mother, Evie Stamps, loved Miss Pauline and visited with her often. Mother once was complaining to Miss Pauline that she was dissatisfied with her weight and wanted to lose some pounds. Miss Pauline with her sweet caring way just looked at mother and told her that she was not fat; she was just soft and cuddly. Mother had a pretty voice and could sing anything, but had the most beautiful alto voice I ever heard. They enjoyed it when mother would go over and Miss Pauline would play and they would sing. I would go sometime during these visits. I would try to sing with them because they sounded so good and were having so much fun. But, I do not have a singing voice and just could not do them justice. But I enjoyed those sessions very much. There were many good deeds Miss Pauline was always busy with. There is no way I could begin to tell all she did for others. She truly loved all that she did that helped someone.This lady was truly a saint. A wonderful Christian lady who was such an example of all good. She was truly Miss Leesburg so far as we were concerned. Everyone loved Miss Pauline, but no one loved her more than the Paul Stamps family who lived across the street. Paula Stamps Smith Ethelind Cannon We would all be amazed at the number of lives Ethelind Cannon touched during her life time. She was a lady of love, care and patience. She taught Sunday School to 3 and 4 year olds for over 60 years at Leesburg United Methodist Church. It did not matter who the child was or how active the child was she would get them to sit at her kidney-shaped table and listen to her story. They knew that when she finished telling her story and peeling her apple (without ever breaking the ring of peel) she would give them a piece. I have heard parents tell about her getting the worst of children to sit down, listen and behave. She had Mr. Williams to make her a kidney-shape table long before they were ever on the market. She drew the shape she needed to be able to touch each child at her table. She had hand made furniture for her centers in the classroom. She 51 had a center for community service, worship, reading and playing house. She always felt that her room needed to be a basic room without many distractions. She felt that posters, colorful things hanging from the ceiling kept the children from listening. She would say that she couldnt understand why people felt that every inch of classrooms needed to be decorated. If we only had a few Ethelind Cannons in this world we could all see a major change in lives. MaMa you were a wonderful wife, mother, mother -in-law grandmother, friend and teacher. You are missed here on earth; however we know that God has you taking care of the children as you did such a wonderful job here on earth taking care of your children, family and church children. Thank you for all the lives you touched including me and the children. We continue to remember all the wonderful things about you and talk about what a great leader you were. Jo and Brent remember setting at your table in the kitchen and you reading to them and teaching them to color and write. You have left such a legacy, that no one could ever fill your shoes. Patricia Cannon With Love to Ethelind Cannon Frank During the 70s and 80s, Lee County Recreational Department was blessed by having Frank Watson as director. Many a child was blessed by having him as a coach. Regardless of race, income or background, he coached and taught children not only football but life lessons. My son was chosen by Frank to play on the all-star football team. Rob attended a small private school. This was a whole new world for him. Frank treated him as if he belonged to him as he did the rest of the boys. I remember a time when one of the boys was disciplined for not paying attention. I brought the subject up to Rob and he said, Neal wasnt listening, but dont worry, I pretended to be listening. The team went on to win the Turkey Bowl that year. They rode the bus like big guys and we followed in the cars, tailgated and we had the best time. That was one of the many times Rob made us proud as were the other parents, but the person the most proud of our sons was Frank. 52 We lost Rob later in a wreck and now all we have are memories. We wouldnt have this special memory of a happy time if Frank Watson had not given his time and effort for other children. We are positive that Rob was grinning from ear to ear when Frank showed up in Heaven and theyve played that game many times since. Story Told By Tennsie Roberts, Dawson, GA Submitted By Tracy Erickson, Leesburg, GA Hannahs Story: The Life of an Angel On May 24,1996, a nine pound, twelve ounce angel was bom. My sister had given birth to my niece, Hannah Leigh-Ann and I was on cloud nine. Hannah came into our lives with a mission - to show us how to love and to turn our eyes to Heaven. Being the doting aunt, I tried to spend as much of my time with her as I could. When I entered the room, she would smile at my every move sending my heart soaring. We would spend time together just giggling and playing and when she slept, I would just watch her sleep. I was going through a stress-filled divorce, so this precious baby girl was a much needed distraction from my crazy life. At three months old, Hannah developed a sickness that caused her abdominal area to swell to over twice its normal size. Local doctors were not certain they could give her the care she needed so my sister and her husband were advised to seek help in diagnosing this mysterious illness. Doctors in Atlanta, at what was then Egleston Childrens Hospital, gladly took on Hannahs case. After numerous tests were run and checked over and over, the final diagnosis was Familial Erythrophagocytic Lymphohistiocytosis, otherwise known as FEL. This is a rare, non-malignant tumor that occurs in early infancy. Symptoms included frequent and high fevers, irritability and anemia. Our family was crushed with the news, but knew we had to do everything we could to help get Hannah well again. Doctors advised that the only treatment was a bone marrow transplant. Hannah was evaluated and accepted as a candidate for the transplant to take place in the summer of 1997. With the help of close family and friends, my sister and her husband were getting ready for the biggest fight of their young lives. We celebrated Christmas in December 1996 like any other family. Hannah received many gifts and even more attention, trying to create as normal environment 53 as possible considering all of the doctor visits and trips to Atlanta. The following May, we celebrated Hannahs first birthday. She laughed, played and had a great time as she excitedly unwrapped gifts and enjoyed her special day surrounded by those who loved her. Our family pressed on and still held out much hope for this life saving treatment that will allow us more special days. Now that the diagnosis was clear, how to meet the needs of growing expenses was beginning to be more and more difficult. There were many trips to Atlanta from Lee County, sometimes four to six times per month, which included some over night stays. Though Hannah was covered under a special insurance at the time, expenses that went above and beyond what was covered began to grow at a rapid rate. The cost of the bone marrow transplant came to nearly $100,000. A donor had been found who matched five out of the six criteria needed to make a perfect donor. This was what we needed to give Hannah a fighting chance, but the odds were still there staring us down. After much research and advice from doctors and community members, the decision was made to enlist the help of an organization created to help meet the needs of families in our particular situation. COTA (Childrens Organ Transplant Association) rose to the challenge implementing a plan of action for our emotionally and physically weary family. Our first goal was to make the community aware of the situation concerning Hannahs condition. Posters and flyers began circulating with her photo and more and more people were interested in helping our family get through this. A committee was formed that included family and members of the Lee and Dougherty County communities. They were divided up into their specific areas of specialty that included local government, area newspapers, retail stores and local businesses. Doctors offices held Ugly Hat Days wearing the ugliest hats they could find to raise money for Baby Hannah as she began to be best known. Everyone was willing to place a container with Hannahs picture and expression of need in their businesses. No words can express the thanks that our family has for those people and businesses who stepped up and answered a call for help like this one. It eased a tremendous amount of stress and enabled the family to spend as much time supporting Hannah and her parents as we could. One evening after leaving work, I had volunteered to empty containers at a larger local retailer. I was tired from a long day at work and feeling very frustrated and almost hopeless. As I reached for the last container, a small boy, about four years old, came up to me and told me to wait. His mother and I stood close to him as he reached deep down into his blue jeans pocket and pulled out 54 a handful of coins. He reached up to me and said This is for Baby Hannah. More powerful and magical words had never been spoken. I held open the container and allowed him to drop the money in - the clang of the coins together made him smile and tears filled my eyes as I tried to muster the words to say. I stooped down to his level and thanked him with a hug and a smile telling him that he had done a tremendous thing by giving all that he had to someone he had never met. I left that day with a fresh new outlook on the situation. I knew we had to fight this disease with all we had. If that one small boy thought that his small amount of change would help save my niece, I knew that with God on our side and the community-backed fleet of volunteers we had enlisted, how could we lose this fight? Other examples of the generosities from our community were local retailers holding hot dog and drink sales, area horse clubs held rides, local businesses helped us advertise the campaign by selling us goods at little or no cost so that we may sell them for a profit, local banks placed the money containers in their drive through windows and inside teller windows and urged people to give - and give they did. Before June of 1996, we had raised over $80,000 of the money needed to help get Hannah the bone marrow transplant she needed. One day during Hannahs early treatment, I volunteered to go with my sister on a trip to take Hannah to an appointment at Egleston. The night before, I spent the night with them so that we could leave early. At around midnight, I could hear Hannah wake up and start to cry. I knew my sister was in a deep sleep after being so busy the day before, so I jumped up and went in to check on Hannah. She was sitting up in the crib crying her eyes out and nothing I did would satisfy her. I took her in my arms and we proceeded to the living room where I had been sleeping on the couch. After rocking a little bit, Hannah fell asleep on my chest and we slept that way all night. What a wonderful and special moment we shared for that brief time. Feeling my nieces heartbeat on mine all night was a gift that I carry with me every day. The next day, I decided to help out and take Hannah in to the lab room have her blood work done before the doctor saw her. As I sat in the chair holding her tightly in my lap, the nurse brought in the vials and syringe and began to slowly draw blood from a port they had surgical implanted near Hannahs left collarbone earlier that year. Having never experienced this with a child before, I expected the worst: screaming and lots of it. Instead I opened my tightly closed eyes after I knew the needle had to have gone in, and noticed Hannah looking up at me looking worried about me. Not screaming but concerned about her 55 Aunt Shannon. Stunned, I squeezed her sweet, tiny hands and told her how brave she was and how I wish I could be just like her. As the money in Hannahs account grew, we knew it was not growing fast enough. Our committee and COTA decided it was time for a major event to raise more money and meet our goal. The Country Family Festival was bom and on June 21,1997 we held a day filled with lots of entertainment, arts and crafts, horse riding events, games, street dances and plenty of people stopping by just to give their money, love and support to Hannah and our family. By the end of a long, hot and exhausting day, we, as a community, had raised over $22,000. What a blessing to go to bed that night knowing that our needs were being met. God had sent plenty of willing hearts to our aid to lift us up and bring us out of the darkness we were immersed in. As we awaited news of the success of Hannahs transplant held days before, I was planning on being married on June 28lh. As I walked down the aisle without my sister and my niece to share my special day, I carried a small photo of Hannah in my bouquet and a huge hope in my heart that our visit to see her in the coming days would prove to be a promising one. I also prayed for Hannahs parents as they tried to get sleep and stay as strong as they possibly could for their baby. As my new husband and I arrived at the hospital that Sunday morning after the wedding, I was met with a painful sight. Hannah was sitting up in her hospital crib crying and irritated with the adverse reactions of the anti-rejection medications she was being administered. I was unable to hold and comfort her as I had done before the transplant because her immune system was at a dangerously low level due to the extensive chemotherapy. Nothing I could do could keep my heart from breaking.. With a heavy heart, I left that day not knowing what the future had in store for my niece. A generous lawyer and his wife in the Lee County area had donated the use of their Atlanta home to my sister and her husband so that they may stay there for the duration of their stays including the post transplant weeks that lay ahead. The home was only minutes from the hospital and it allowed our families to visit for days at a time once Hannah was back at the house to recuperate. After many days of increasing hope and strength, Hannah developed trouble breathing, which was a symptom of her body rejecting the transplant. We were devastated. After being mshed to the hospital one night in late July, the doctors thought it best to place Hannah on a ventilator and medications to ease her suffering. On August 6,1997, a spinal tap concluded our worst fear - the PEL 56 had returned with a vengeance. There was no longer anything that they could do to prolong Hannahs life and left the decision to my sister and her husband when to stop the life support. After hours of struggling with the reality of losing their daughter, they decided that the time had come. During the long wait after the life support had been turned off, my sister rocked Hannah to sleep one last time. After she took her last breath, it took tearful doctors and nurses a long while to actually pronounce that she had passed. I regret with all my heart not being there when Hannah passed away into Gods presence, but I do know that He was there in that hospital room with His strong and mighty arms around my sister, her husband, nurses and doctors. They were witnessing Gods work first hand and He wanted to be center stage as He took Hannah home. God had been there all along, guiding the careful minds of those doctors and nurses who came to love her, working alongside and inside hun- dreds of volunteers and family members who had banded together for a small child who could not utter many words. God was there in our Lee County com- munity giving grace and mercy to those who were themselves dealing with heart- aches in their own lives, yet who took time out to help, love and support Hannah. God was there on the night before Hannahs funeral as hundreds of people stood outside the funeral home and held a candlelight vigil honoring Hannahs life. God was there the morning of her funeral when hundreds more turned out to support my sister, her husband and the rest of our family as we mourned our little angel. One pastor quoted something that lives with me to this day: Hannah accomplished more in her short life than many politicians, communi- ties, or churches could ever hope to do... that was to break down barriers and bring people from all walks of life together for the cause of one person. An- other pastor was quoted as saying God bless the power and strength of the ministry of a child.. .how many can say that they have been prompted by a child to open up their heart to the fullest extent? Hannah brought hope to our com- munity that no one had ever felt, something that I believe has lived on even years after her passing. Hannah brought life to our family and a love and peace from God that lives on. It is not easy for me to sit here and type these words almost ten years later because the pain is still very real for my sister and our family. I do consider her a vital part of my life and growth in Christ Jesus. I believe there are times in our lives when our faith sways here and there, but I can honestly say that my faith in Gods love and peace blew me away as I witnessed my Lee County 57 neighbors reach out to my niece and my family. Having never met most of them, I still feel forever connected with those who made the difference and hoped that the outcome was anything than what it was. But I believe that it was everything God wanted it to be - a time to show off and say Look what I created in you - a generous and faithful servant who gave everything for a child. I know without a doubt that when I get to Heaven one day, I will be reunited with Hannah. I am steadfast in my prayers to God and in my thankfulness in all He has done and continues to do in my life. I thank God for giving my family a community like Lee County to call home, and most of all for the new and old friends that helped us through. We may have lost the battle to save our Hannah, but I believe that God won the biggest battle of all for us, long before we ever knew her. Shannon DeReus Hannah at 1 year old Hannahs 1st Christmas . (orHj, 7sf y June 21,1997 9 am - 5 pm In Leesburg at the field in front of Lee Co. Primary School Leslie Hwy 195 Bring Your Entire Family For A Fun-Filled Day Featuring... fad S*textab(*Hertt fc&twUtty Dottie Davis Karen Anthony Bobbie Lee Wade Ball Shannon Lily Cloggers Pink Slipper Dancers Sherwood Baptist Puppets Dalton & Loretta Graham mnouAmoo (Wafrt Sfi*Sitnttf i, Vue.) ftltu wmvthf T^Ujeetf* SweeU uUtl fie MiUfile tbwtyfitMt the ctaqd @MteDfa6/IpMn*p4wUte Ate Smfdufte!7 Featuring Rob Plowden, Jim Smith & the LCHS Football Staff!! foot Ok rtdioitUA tytct fault}! Smokey the Bear Pony Rides Clowns Face Painting Games and Contests Kareoke Lots of Arts & Crafts Booths MUCH, MUCH MORE! Bring Your Lawn Chairs and Blankets!! ALL PROCEEDS 8ENEF1T THE COTA FOR HANNAH TRANSPLANT FUND Port-O-Uts end Dumpsters Sponsored by Holl-fng Refuse Festival Fundraiser Flyer 58 A Journey in the Night When I read in the Lee County Ledger the title of the soon to be published book of our memories, it brought to mind a story told by my father, Grover Pace, about going to meet the train that ran through Lee County. Grover received word from his oldest brother, Dan, who lived in Atlanta, that he was planning to come home for a few days. He would be arriving on the train at a designated time after dark and to please meet him at the depot in Smithville. Grover talked this over with his youngest brother Tift and they made plans to leave home after an early supper, their mode of transportation being a horse and buggy. There had been heavy rains earlier during the week and they were concerned about the best road to take. They decided on what is presently Hwy 118. The two brothers embarked on the eighteen-mile journey from their family farm three miles south of Leslie. Darkness came upon them as they continued on their way. With a good horse, a strong buggy and a lantern they felt secure in the black night. On this route they had to cross nine wooden bridges over Muckalee Creek before reaching Smithville. As they approached one of the bridges the horse came to a complete stop. Grover tried to coax her onto the bridge by clucking and calling, get-I-up, but she stood firm. Being a little impatient, he tried using the buggy whip, but still the horse would not budge. The brothers could hear the train whistle in the distance, as it was nearing Smithville. They knew they must do something quickly, because they werent going to be on time to meet the train. Finally, Grover told Tift to take the reins. He then took the lantern and got down from the buggy, intending to catch the bridle and lead the horse across the bridge. As he took hold of the bridle, the lantern cast a light down and Grover realized there was NO BRIDGE! It had been washed away by the heavy rains. Needless to say, they had to find another way to Smithville. It was very late when they arrived to find Dan impatiendy waiting. After they explained the delay, he felt very glad that he didnt have to spend the night in Smithville. (Im sure they werent serving Chicken Pie at the hotel at that hour.) The two brothers were sorry, because they had treated the poor horse badly. She had saved them from a terrible accident. Betty Ann Clay 59 The So Called Hill One of my many memories of Leesburg and Lee County was when I was sixteen years old and was learning to drive and rolled back at the stop sign on the hill. What hill? In Leesburg you might ask. The now red light right in downtown in front of the flower shop. The Hill of course turned out to be an incline in the road. But to an inexperienced driver with a stick shift it was a major accomplishment to maneuver the clutch, brake and accelerator at the same time. Yes, I did roll back just a tad. That was many years before we had a red light. Many years later when our children were the age to get their license I told my husband, Tom, about my experience on the hill. He said, What hill? Well you know hes from Tennessee and they have hills, we dont. He laughed and still laughs about the so call hill in Leesburg. Low and behold after we married we moved to Athens, Georgia and nearly every red light is on a hill. I mean a HILL! It started all over with stress of a clutch. It didnt take but one roll back at the light for me to learn all the alleys, back roads, etc. in Athens. One day Tom and I were out riding through town when the red light hit us. I immediately cut through a service station instead of stopping on the hill. I think thats probably illegal isnt it? I must have done that for at least a few more lights because Tom said, What are you doing?M was so use to driving like that I wasnt even aware of it. I said its hard to stop on the hill without rolling back or burning the clutch up. He laughed and reminded me of the HILL in Leesburg. Now theres not even an incline over the railroad tracks and at the red light. I am married to Tom Sumners and we have three children, Matthew, Holley and Morgan. Donna Sumners Memories: Putting something in the time capsule during the centennial celebrations, going to Eubanks Hardware, plays at the old high school auditorium, the old water tower, basketball games at the old gym on Starksville Street and Friday night football games at the old stadium and the band could be heard throughout Leesburg. 60 City Girl to Farm Girl I will never forget April 10,1964. That was the day that brought me, a Greenville, South Carolina girl, to live in Lee County Georgia. That day began my transformation from a city girl to a farm girl. After graduation from Furman University, I was nearing the end of my first year of teaching at Hawkins vilie High School. Early in the 1963-64 school year, one of my co-teachers who was from Albany had introduced me to her brother-in-law, Sandy / Reed Hatfield, who was farming in Lee County. (He was always Sandy to the family and Reed to most others.) We had been dating since October, and on April 10th he popped the question and presented me with a beautiful diamond ring. Of course, I said, Yes! He then drove me into Leesburg where I had a scheduled interview with Mr. Kearse, Superintendent of Lee County School. I was applying for a position as an English teacher. At the end of the interview, he told me that I had the job but his secretary didnt work on Saturdays and that he had not been able to find a blank contract. He asked if I knew how to type. I did, so he gave me a contract that someone else had signed and told me to type one just like it for myself. I never had expected that my first task in the Lee County School System would be to type my own contract. Later in the day, to celebrate our engagement and my getting a teaching job in Leesburg, Sandy took me down to Lake Seminole to go fishing. He gave me a tackle box, a Zebco-33 rod and reel, a couple of repala lures and some purple worms and began to teach me how to fish for largemouth bass. That should give you an idea of the kind of changes that were in store for this city girl. I was destined to learn all kinds of new things about fishing, hunting, taxidermy, raising hogs and growing peanuts, com and soybeans. I even learned to drive a tractor, turn peanuts, and haul peanut wagons to the Sheller. We were married on June 14,1964 and, for a wedding present, Sandy gave me a beautiful Browning automatic 16-gauge shotgun. I shot 3 doves with it on my first dove shoot. Oh, I also had to leam to cook fresh fish, dove, quail, venison, wild turkey, and frog legs... .and how to skin a deer. In the fall I began teaching English and Spanish at Lee County High School. That was the year the new wing with the glass front library was built, but it was not completed until October. Until then, myself and other teachers assigned to that building had to float in the old two- story building. Each period of the day, I rolled my cart to a 61 different room where the regular teacher was having a planning period. I loved it when I finally was able to move into my brand new classroom, which was, for those days, the ultimate language lab. Now, my old language lab is a meeting room for the Lee County Chamber of Commerce. I shared that building with Mrs. Sue Passant, science; Mr. Gene Stripling, math; Mr. Rivers, math; Mr. Allen, librarian; and our principal, Mr. Mitchum. After Christmas, Mr. Kearse retired and we had a wonderful brand new Superintendent of Schools, Robert A. Clay. We only had two homerooms of each grade, and some of those students were stuck with me for two class periods a day for two years (for English and Spanish classes). Then, I had my first child, Ruthie, and I took the whole year off. Sadly, our librarian, Mr. Allen, was killed in an automobile accident during that year. Mr. Clay called me and asked if I would go to ABAC on Saturdays to take four classes in school library science and plan to come back the next year to work in the library. I did, and I loved it. I had a great group of student assistants so we began a GALA club (Georgia Association of Library Assistants). We went to the state convention in Atlanta and Lynne Ranew who was our local reporter who ran for the office of State Secretary. Near the end of that year, my baby sitter got sick and was unable to work for several weeks. I couldnt find a sitter, so Dr. Clay allowed me to bring my 1V2 year-old Ruthie, to school every day. She stayed in the workroom of the library and some of my student assistants helped to keep her entertained. (She grew up to become a teacher.) We soon added two sons, Reed III and Travis to our family. Living on the farm in Lee County with horses, dogs and cats, hunting and fishing was a nice way to five and raise a family. I have many happy memories of those first years I worked in Lee County with so many wonderful students and co-workers. Later on I worked in the Elementary School Library with Mr. Lightfoot as Principal and in the Lee County Middle School Library (on the campus that became Twin Oaks) under the leadership of Tex Houston, Mike Davis, Dr.Maijorie Calhoun, and Mary OHearn. The job title of librarian ultimately evolved to be that of media specialist. I continued to work in school libraries in Lee County and in Dougherty County at high school, middle school, and elementary school levels until I retired in January 2003. 62 I now enjoy many of those same relationships through the Lee County Retired Teachers Association. Any of you retired teachers out there that are not members need to come on and join this active organization that is continually working for YOU. Glenna Hatfield Saturday Night Square Dances and the Love of my Life The Saturday night square dances in Leesburg at the school gym were the highlight of the week for both young and old from near and far. They were enjoyed not only by those of us from Leesburg but from Albany and surrounding towns. The square dances and high school basketball were the big events in Leesburg in the 1940s and 1950s. The square dances were known for good clean fun. Mr. & Mrs. Haywood Cook supervised. Mrs. Cook took in the admission fee at the door and Mr. Cook along with a policeman they hired made sure there was order and fun with no drunks, drinking or misconduct at the dances. The Goode band from Terrell County was the band that played for many years. They were very good and everyone enjoyed them. I worked at the old Suwannee Store, owned by Zack Pate. Perry Kearse, Mr. Pates son, Zack Jr. and I worked there. He carried everything from meats, cheese, groceries, kerosene, cold drinks dry goods and anything else he thought people in Leesburg would want. The store was next door to Cannons Hardware store at that time and the Court House on the other side. I worked there after school and on Saturdays. Mr. Pate always let me off for the basketball games I played in, usually on Tuesday andFriday nights. Basketball was big back then in Leesburg. It was at the square dance that I met my future husband. He was always there and sometimes would call the square dances. There were round dances between each square dance. At one of the dances, this very good looking young man ask me to dance with him, I did. While we danced, he told me he was going to marry me. I told him he was crazy. He would be the last person I would marry. His name was James William Bill/ Smith. He had a reputation of being a wild fast driver, and I did not think at that first meeting that I wanted any part of that. Mr. Floyd Moore, who lived in Leesburg, was a policeman in Albany. He had stopped Billy for speeding on more than one occasion. In fact, many times. 63 About the last time he stopped Billy, he had a long talk with him and told Billy of the dangers of speeding and breaking the law as well as other good advice for him. Billy stopped speeding on a regular basis and calmed down a lot and became a good law abiding citizen. Billy made the comment many times about Mr. Moores talk with him and how much good it had done him. He said if it hadnt been for Mr. Moore, he may have had a fatal accident, but that talk made him think and turn his wild streak around. He always appreciated and respected Mr. Moore from that day. I dont know if Mr. Moore ever knew how much it helped Billy that day. He didnt give Billy a ticket that day. He gave him more with his talk and advice than any ticket he ever got. If Mr. Moore were living today, I would like to say Thank You. As time went on and I dated Billy Smith, I saw what a good and caring person he was. He was going to college at Georgia South Western College in Americus, GA. He stayed on campus during the week and came home to Albany on the weekend. He always stopped at school on his way home to Albany on Friday, picked me up at school and we would go to the drug store and get a coke or ice cream and he would take me home. That is unless I was going to play basketball outoftown. If I did that, I had to ride theschool bus to the games. He would go to all my games in Leesburg and many of the out of town games to see me play. Billy was one of the nicest and best all round boys I dated. He never drank alcohol and never smoked. Billy drove to Leesburg eveiy Sunday morning, went to Sunday School and church with me and on Sunday evening we went to training union and church. It was there at First Baptist Church on Main St. in Leesburg that Billy accepted Christ and was baptisted by G Ashton Smith, and yes, G Ashton Smith married us in First Baptist Church in Leesburg on August 20,1950. Yes, those square dances were good clean fun, where I met the love of my life, married, had two wonderful children, a boy Billy Paul, a girl Teresa Ann (Terri) and was married to for thirty-four years until God took him to heaven. I guess the moral of this story is, be careful what you say you will never do. You may just do it. But for me, it was about the best thing I ever did after accepting Christ as my Lord and Savior. And, I look forward to being with the love of my life in heaven someday. Paula Stamps Smith 64 Billy and Paula Smiths wedding photo August 20,1950 Traffic Lights and a Doctor What do traffic lights and a doctor have in common? Maybe nothing, or maybe they do. Ive heard of a number of statements made that the recent installation of traffic lights in Leesburg is the first and only ones ever in use here. That is wrong and I can prove its not true. Ill tell you more about the traffic lights later. In the 1960s, everyone came together to get a doctor in Leesburg, but it was the Leesburg Lions Club that took the matter in hand. They decided to construct or obtain a medical clinic building for a doctors use. A big, county- wide, fund raising barbeque was held. Due to donations including many hogs, funds were raised and an empty dwelling was secured. It was the old Davis house, now gone, but being right across the street from Lee Countys Tax Collectors Office, now being used as the First Baptist Church parking lot. It had living quarters, plus a large waiting room, office, exam room, x-ray room and even an overnight bedroom for patients that requiring close medical attention after accidents or minor surgery. This was great for Leesburgs, 1,000 residents and the countys 6,204 people. After contact with hospitals, medical graduation rosters, Georgia State medical Department and the Sears Roebuck Foundation, no one wanted to come to a small town, now being without a local doctor for years and years. We had a drugstore, but no doctor. 65 At last resort the Lions Club, believing that advertising pays off decided to put a very large banner across and over U.S. 19 (Walnut Street) in the center of town. It was featured in the January 1965 Lions Magazine. The banner said: THIS TOWN WANTS A DOCTOR. Leesburg was remembered as the town with the sign. See banner on page 67. Many, many people saw it, but by chance two people traveling through saw it and told a friend, Dr. D. H. Grimes about it. Coming from Florida, he came to Leesburg, looked us over, liked what he saw and moved here. Though retired, he was a good doctor, holding a county clinic one day a week in Leesburg and one day a week in Smithville. He certainly helped me in a time of crisis. We, Dick Forrester, Frank Stovall, Williams Long and Mac Coxwell and I had been fishing for catfish for several days, setting limb lines in the Flint River. We had a lot of fish, putting them in a croker sack. They asked me to unload them from the boat to the bank. In the process one of the catfishs barb fins stuck through the croker sack and pierced the soft part ofmy right knee. A catfish barb is ragged and hurts. I took one step on the bank and went down, completely, collapsing. All this led me to see Dr. Grimes, whose first question was the date of my last tetanus shot. It had been a long time so he gave me one, but before that he made some sort of test to see if it was okay to take it. Well, back there, I said that I would get back to the traffic light. Look at the banner picture again. What in the world do you see hanging just below the banner? You guessed it! Its a real, full sized, red, yellow and green traffic tight. Remember this picture was in 1965. There were three of them, one in the center as it is now, one at The Leesburg Mercantile Company, now the location of the City Hall and one across from Bill Hopkins service station and the old U.S. Post Office. The fuse box is still on the pole south of the old USPO (check it out!). Well, what happened to them and why was their use discontinued? A serious accident occurred at the railroad crossing. An out-of-town woman and child were hit by a train while driving across the tracks. It was a miracle that they were not killed or seriously injured. Later an investigation revealed that she saw the traffic tight was green, but did not notice the railroad flashing red tights, this being before the day of crossing arms. Cecil Gibbs was one of the first people on the scene and helped remove the child trapped in the back seat. 66 It was then determined that the traffic lights had to be coordinated and synchronized with the railroad signals. At that time it was impossible to bear this cost, as the railroad declined any financial assistance, so the lights were taken down and stored in the old depot building for future use. This was not to be, for soon after then, two soldiers traveling north at night at a very high speed lost control of their vehicle and ran into the depot building. If I remember correctly, they were both killed. In any case their vehicle ran over the three traffic lights and two fifteen foot electric Christmas trees, which were used in front of the courthouse. The traffic lights were so damaged, that they had to be disposed of. Well, in this tale, maybe traffic lights and a doctor do have a little something in common. PageTharp I^vn Wwts a doctor M -i fpbijrg ,GA.4_B^ * ; J I NOW THEY HAVE THEIR DOCTOR Fond Memories of Leesburg High School First a little history. In 1918 Superintendent S. J. Powell requested the State Department of Education to conduct a survey to determine the best way to house Lee Countys students so as to provide a quality elementary and secondary education program. This survey committee recommended that four schools be built, located in Leesburg, Smithville, Redbone and Chokee. The recommendations were partially carried out with schools being built in Leesburg, Smithville and Redbone. 67 Leesburg High School, to serve grades 1 -11, was constructed in 1921 - 1922 after passage of a $65,000 bond referendum. V. P. Folds was the first principal. He and seven teachers constituted the faculty. Gus Homer, one of the workers who helped build the two-story structure, was hired as janitor. He was affectionately referred to as Fessor. Fessor Homer worked at the school as long as his health permitted and on his death was recognized by the Board of Education. Soon after the two-story building was occupied, a dirt basketball court and baseball diamond, with grandstand, were built. A gristmill was located beyond the baseball diamond. It became the goal of every batter to knock a ball to the millhouse. Leesburg soon became known for the excellent athletes it produced. In 1938 the gymnasium, referred to as the shell, was built by the Progress Works Administration (PWA), a depression era program designed to put people back to work. After this, competitive basketball and baseball really took off. Leesburg High School was a Class C school, the smallest classification of the Georgia High School Association. Students who lived out-of-town brought their -- lunches to school. Town students went home for lunch and most teachers went to their boarding house, called the Hotel, for their lunch. One duty teacher stayed at school to try to maintain some degree of order and to keep the students from burning down the schoolhouse. Boys and girls did not mix during lunch. Girls were assigned to the south campus and boys occupied the north campus. Except for an occasional note passing or a shy wave, the sexes were separated. This was a time when most fights occurred. The yell fight always brought a crowd to witness the event. It was also the time when freshmen boys were initiated. They had to ran the belt line made up of upperclassmen. It was also a time to shoot marbles, spin tops, play baseball, basketball or shuffleboard. Upon the death of S. J. Powell in 1942, H. T. Kearse was elected Superintendent. Soon after taking office, with the help of the PTA, he established a lunchroom program. The first lunchroom was in the basement under the stage. Lunch cost a dime, but if you didnt have the money, you could exchange turnip greens, a ham, eggs or whatever food you grew at home for lunch tickets. My student days at Leesburg High School began in 1935 when I entered second grade. It ended with my graduation in 1945. This was a time dominated by the great depression and World War II. There were few luxuries but our needs were always met. School was a big part of my life. It provided both educational opportunities and social activities. Lifetime friendships began here. 68 Memory being clouded by the passage of time, I am sure that many anecdotes are not reported in this article. Hopefully, some of my schoolmates will remember and write of the things I have overlooked. We did not have a paid public school music teacher. However, Miss Pauline Tharp filled this void. She played the piano for chapel programs, graduations and other events. She also taught private piano lessons. Miss Pauline wrote the Alma Mater that is still being used by Lee County High School. It was traditional to have a class picnic every spring. We would take time out during the school day to carry our picnic lunch to Mossy Dell, Graves Springs, Kinchafoonee Creek or Muckalee Creek for swimming, playing and eating. The fun stopped in time to get everybody back to Leesburg in time for school dismissal. Nobody wanted to miss the bus home. April Fools Day was observed by a large number of students playing hookey. They did this knowing that they would have to suffer the consequences upon returning to school. Halloween was the time for a carnival. It was also a time when boys played pranks around town. In the early 1940s Dr. Frank T. Long who had served as an English Professor at Columbia University for a number of years, decided that it would be good to return to his hometown and teach English at Leesburg High School. Dr. Long was much more a scholar than a disciplinarian. After a few weeks he resigned saying that what we needed was a policeman, not a teacher. The next year he tried it again, but only lasted until Christmas. That ended Dr. Longs teaching career. Living 17 miles from Leesburg, it was difficult for me to participate in some of the after-school social activities. Two of my classmates, Harry Lee and George Moreland, came to my rescue by inviting me to spend the night with them so that I could be a part of these activities. The County Agent, L. H. Nelson, organized a 4-H Club at Leesburg High School. The Club met monthly in the auditorium. Club members had projects, participated in various competitions and went to summer camp at several locations. James R. (Jimmy) Clay won a trip to Chicago for his demonstration project How to Preserve Fence Posts. He demonstrated the process our Daddy used on the farm. Another tradition was for the senior class to take a trip following graduation. Miss Mary Dance was in charge of this. She carried a number of classes to Washington, New York and other distant destinations. She was a brave lady to take us from the country to the big city. 69 In addition to chapel programs and graduations, the auditorium was used for special events. I recall going there to remember President Roosevelt when word came of his death. A short time later, we were called back to celebrate Victory in Europe (V-E Day). Senior plays, womanless weddings and beauty contests were held there. The auditorium was an important part of the school and the community. As fate would have it, tragedy struck our class several times. Harry Lees daddy, Mr. E. B. Lee, died while we were students. Another classmate, Jimmy Nesbitt, suffered several tragedies. His home burned and his daddy died in a relatively short period of time. Several years later he contracted polio. That left him crippled. In spite of this he became a successful businessman. When I was in the 8th grade my daddy, Robert A. Clay, Sr. died suddenly, leaving a wife, three children and one on the way. When I was in the 9th grade and had just turned 15, our school bus driver suddenly quit. It was during WWII and, no replacement was available. Superintendent H. T. Kearse asked me if I knew how to drive. Having driven farm tractors and a farm truck for about a year, I assured him that I could drive. He said, You are the new school bus driver. I didnt even have a learners permit. The 30 passenger V-8 Ford bus was turned over to me. The bus had a standard shift that had to be double clutched to change gears. In addition, it would jump out of high gear. The previous driver had cut a 1" by 2" stick just the right length to fit between the gearshift in the high gear position and the dash- board. When the bus was shifted into high gear the stick was flipped in place so that it could not jump out of gear. I drove the bus for over two years, starting at $35.00 per month. I thought I was rich. After graduation, my brother Jimmy drove it until he went off to college. Jim Mitchell was principal during the 1930s. He was noted for his use of the paddle. It was even mmored that he kept an electric paddle in his office. One day he came into a classroom where Thurman Peanut Youngblood was sitting. Peanut, who had been up to some mischief, immediately crawled under his desk. Mr. Mitchell pulled him out and without discussion paddled him on the spot. Mr. Mitchell had attended the United States Military Academy at West Point. He was a contemporary of Dwight Eisenhower and Omah Bradley. He had to leave West Point when his father died so he did not graduate. However this military training resulted in his being a strict disciplinarian. 70 Nearly all roads in Lee County were dirt in the 30s. When it rained they were muddy, making bus transportation difficult. On rainy days it was customary to have one session and dismiss school at 1:00 p.m. Now Mr. Mitchell operated a farm as a sideline. Always anxious to get to the farm, he would announce one session at the least little sprinkle. Both students and teachers anxiously watched the sky to see if a rain shower was approaching. Mr. Mitchell also ran the Hotel, where most of the single teachers boarded. After leaving Leesburg, Mr. Mitchell, held several administrative positions. He ended his career as Superintendent of Monroe County Schools. James Bell was principal from 1942 to 1944. He also taught math and chemistry. He warned his students about a chemical in the storage cabinet that was especially volatile when it came in contact with water. A number of us had an unsupervised study period in the room where the chemicals were kept. Some- one got the idea of putting a very small amount of the chemical in a dish of water to see what would happen. The dish was put on a windowsill so that if the mixture became unruly, it could easily be thrown outside. The seal was broken on the chemical container and a small amount dropped in the dish of water. Immediately smoke and flames erupted from the dish, there was a loud explo- sion and the dish broke, spilling water and flames on the floor. The flames were quickly extinguished and the mess cleaned up. Then the question was what to do with the remainder of the chemical in the now unsealed container? It was agreed that it had to be removed from the building. George Moreland was the only classmate who had his own transportation, a pickup truck. The chemical was slipped out of the building wrapped in a coat and taken to Georges truck. He then drove it and several boys to Kinchafoonee Creek. From the creek bridge, the chemical was tossed into the water. There was a terrific explosion and water was thrown nearly as high as the bridge. Now we knew that the chemical would not explode in the school building. That ended our unsupervised scientific experiments. Marie Bell was the wife of James Bell, the principal. She taught English and did her best to instill a little culture in her students. She promoted the Junior/ Senior Prom and other social events, always instructing us on how to act and the importance of etiquette. Mrs. Helen Crotwell taught English and Latin at the high school level. One day George Moreland was leaving her classroom and made the comment, Thats what makes it so damp and cool. Mrs. Crotwell thought he said, Thats what makes it so damn cool. She whacked him before he could explain what he really said. 71 Graduations were held on the stage in the auditorium. After the solemn ceremony and the awarding of diplomas, the recessional began in a dignified manner. However, when the first graduate reached the rear of the auditorium there would be loud howls and yells, caps would be thrown and pandemonium would break out. The high school curriculum was limited by todays standards. In addition to the basic academics, Latin, agriculture and home economics were taught. FFA and FHA clubs complimented the vocational courses. Camps at Lake Jackson for vocational students provided a diversion during the long hot summers. At Lake Jackson, we slept in barracks, ate in the mess hall and met other students from throughout the state. The typical classroom was very different from those found in schools today. There were wooden floors that were periodically oiled. Apicture of George Washington hung on the wall. A sand table was available for projects or dis- plays. Steam radiators, that knocked as pressure was building up, provided heat. Instructional material was displayed at various places around the room. Textbooks were the curriculum with teachers supplementing this according to their interest and desires. The school day began at 8:30, or 9:00 a.m. during the winter months, with a devotional and prayer. A morning recess and an one-hour lunch period were important parts of the daily schedule. Chapel was held at least once a week. Each class was responsible for providing the Chapel program several times each term. It was at these assemblies that the principal would lay down the law, as he deemed necessary. School dismissed for the day at 3:00 p.m. The Baptist, Methodist and Presbyterian churches often had their revival while school was in session. Whole classes were allowed to go to those churches for the 11:00 o clock services. Wouldnt it create a fuss if this were done today? We often played a game called hoss at lunchtime. In this game, a small boy would get on the back of a larger boy and a pulling contest would ensue with another such team. The object was to pull the other team to the ground. Jimmy Pettit was my favorite horse. One day we challenged a team made up of Jimmy King and Mack Knight. After a struggle we all hit the ground. I was on the bottom. When I started to get up I noticed that my arm was in an unnatural position. It was broken. After two operations, two weeks in an Atlanta hospital and six weeks in a cast, I began to recover. That ended the game of hoss at Leesburg High School. 72 Nightlife in Leesburg was pretty limited during my teen years. However, on rare occasions some of us would get together to go to the Black Cat which was located near the intersection of Philema Road and Old Leesburg Road or the Paramount Club, a little further north on Old Leesburg Road. Another treat was to go to a movie or to the fair in Albany, in fact, there was a little rumor that one of our principals, whose name will not be mentioned, was observed leaving the hoochee-coochee show at the Albany fair. My graduating class in 1945 had only nine members: Ada Lee Cook, Flora Coxwell, Harry Lee, Mary Pye, Alaouida Oliver, George Moreland, Ella Mathis, Hendrick Cromartie and I (Bobby Clay). Ada Lee, Flora and Harry entered first grade together in 1934.1joined the class in second grade. Teach- ers, beginning with first grade and going through grade seven were: Miss Stripland, Mrs. EllaTison, Miss Nell Kearse, Mrs. Lucibel Rutland, Miss Elizabeth Maffett, Miss Charlene Dumas and Miss Lucille Snyder. Teachers in high school during this time included: Ed Morton, Vivian Stanford, Mr. Melton, Mrs. Page, James Bell, Marie Bell, Charles McNeal, Webster Nail, Helen Crotwell, Virginia West, Emily Rivers, Mrs. Lacey, Fred Kight, Mary Dance, and others. In 1947, Leesburg High School and Smithville High School were both having trouble maintaining sufficient enrollment in the four high school grades to stay accredited. The Board of Education voted to consolidate the two high schools to make the Lee County High school located in Leesburg. The last class to graduate from Leesburg High School was the class of 1947. The nine class members were: Spencer Faircloth, Laveme Fussell, Laveme Goodwin, Joyce Hines, Jacqueline Martin, Maxine Mitchiner, Bill Odom, Raleigh Sanford and Page Tharp. Diplomas were given out in alphabetical order. Thomas Page Tharp received the last diploma awarded by Leesburg High School. But that is not the end of the story. The two-story building and other buildings on campus served Lee County High School from 1947 until 1977. From 1970 until 2002 they housed Lee County Elementary School. In 2002, the Board of Education deeded the two-story building and several other buildings to the Board of County Commissioners. The commissioners have retained an architect to develop a preservation plan for the historic two-story building that served Lee County students for 80 years. Three county school Superintendents: S. J. Powell, H. T. Kearse and Robert A. Clay, served this school for 74 of these years. Robert A. Clay Jr. 73 Leesburg High School Class of 1945. Left to Right: Alaouida Oliver, Hendrick Cromartie, Ella Mathis, George Moreland, Mary Pye, Harry Lee, Ada Lee Cook, Bobby Clay and Flora Coxwell Bulger When I remember growing up in Leesburg, I often think of the town characters. There were several, but Bulger is the one I remember best, probably because I was terrified of him. He was a black man-a hunchback. He ambled around from street to street, always silent, always carrying a croker sack over one shoulder and a mattock in the other hand. I believed that he kidnapped little children, put them in his croker sack and later hit them in the head with his mattock. There is no question about who put this crazy idea in my head. It was either my brother Ed or his comrade-in-terrorism Bobby Gunter. Nothing gave the two of them more joy than making me miserable. By the grace of God, both Bobby and Ed grew up to be nice men, but until I reached the teen years, I would have been hard-pressed to think of anything nice to say about either one of them. 74 After I was grown, on a hot summer afternoon my mother, a great aunt and I were chatting on my mothers front porch. Bulgers name came up in the conversation. I commented that I was scared to death of him as a child. My aunt smiled and said, You were afraid of Bulger? Actually, a gentler soul never lived. Im glad she straightened me out about that! Gay Forrester Phillips Our Samantha Those reading this little story who are TV rerun addicts, TV Land viewers, or just plain old enough to remember recognize the title name. For the few of you who do not, let me enlighten you. In 1964,aTV series premiered red titled Bewitched. The star of the show was Elizabeth Montgomery, a very pretty, wispy blond. She played the role of Samantha. As you mightinferftom the TV tide, Samantha was a WITCH. But let me say right now, before going any further, Samantha was a good WITCH. Well, most of the time. As the program came on each week, Samantha, in the formofacaricature, would fly in on her broom. Actually, it was quite cute. I mean the program and the flying in on the broom. Now let me tell you the story of Our Samantha. Our Sam, as we later shortened it to, was a teacher at Lee County High School. Those of you who were in LCHS in the mid 60 s know of whom I speak. Her name was..well maybe I shouldnt say. in order to protect he somewhat innocent (ha ha), Ill just use her initials, KL. I do not know who first decided to call our teacher Sam. Nor do I really know why. Maybe it was because, she to was a very pretty, wispy blond. Or maybe she too was....sometimes just a.... plain OLD WITCH. After 40 plus years my memory is a little hazy, but I do vividly remember the following two incidents. Let me relay them to you. Times were, as you know, far different in the 60s. However, we still had what you could call bad boys back then also. Bad in the sense of mischievous, mouthy, just plain ole boys. There were two, however, that just went overboard with their mouths one six week period. Sam did about the only thing she could in the situation and cut each of them 40 points on their conduct score. That, of course, meant a 60 in conduct and a failing grade. Like those two really cared. Most of us back then 75 did care, however, and we didnt want any points off of our conduct grade. We did have to take it home and show it to our parents. So to hear that these two got cut 40 points was the talk of the school that day. And its still stuck in my memory bank. Earlier in this story, I wrote of Samantha riding a broom. Well, one day a few very industrious students, ormaybejust one, built abroom for Sam. It was waiting for her in her classroom one morning. It was laying across the top of the box fan used to keep us cool in those days (no AC then). Now, this was no ordinary broom. While it was a wooden stick with a brush at one end, there were a few extras. Lets call them options. Ill try and remember as many as I can. There was an engine fixed to the brooms end. Rear view mirrors, tail lights, and I think even a tag that said Sam. It was quite a feat of engineering. Needless to say, everyone had to come by and see that broom. Me included. I can still see Sam doubled over with laughter about that thing. It stayed in her class for days. I dont know if there are any pictures of it or what ultimately happened to it. It did, however, bring all of us a lot of laughs. If you havent already guessed by now, even though we nicknamed her Sam after a TV witch, most of us loved her. She was a good teacher that expected the best from us and wanted each of us to do well. She left LCHS after, as I remember it, only three years. I wished that she had stayed with us longer. I hope, that wherever she is today, she is happy, well, and has good memories of her students and her time at LCHS. [ RS. The teachers name was Kay Oxford Lawson, Winston Oxfords first cousin] Charlene Usry Georgia on My Mind Pine trees, Spanish moss, red clay., .are only a part of the descriptive words that cause the minds eye to once again visualize the past, a past that encompasses all of Lee County. Driving down the red clay back-roads, we encounter family names of people on the local road signs, people who left their life contributions indelibly imprinted upon this 76 county, state, and, ultimately, the entire world, . Family names of individuals responsible for having built the homes, schools, roads., .drilled the wells, and tilled the large expanses of farmland that make up much of Lee County. And, as the fields are tilled and post holes dug, more secrets are revealed...secrets buried for centuries. An arrowhead, perhaps a spear point., .brought to the surface., .acre after acre, endowed by long forgotten Indian tribes... who in pursuit of wild game, or perhaps an enemy.. .let fly a lethal projectile, a projectile that would lay buried in perfectly good condition for centuries to remind us at a later time of an historic past Alligators, fish, reptiles, winged creatures and the encounters with each are a daily occurrence as we travel into the past for memories...somehumorous., .and all exciting and more numerous than the present day has to offer: We recall Pye pond, waters clear and unclogged., .an evening walk would reveal an alligator or two, lazily cutting a V across the waters surface. Not far away, GravesSpring could be heard to gurgle and flow. Large mouth bass, blue gill, and channel cat would fin beneath the dimpled waters.. .waiting to reward the young man who possessed a cane pole, helgremite, and the acumen to bring it ashore. Many tales and yams were spun, some of sincere belief and others... of hopefulness.Often, as we would swim in the cool Graves Springs waters, a water snake or mocassin might pass close by. And, one of our local ftiends related dont worry, they 77 cant bite while they are in the water or they will drown. We found out later that this was a yam spun of hopefulness. Now, knowing that this same local friend wanted us to go get some bee honey and, the bees wont sting., .because they cant fly when the weather is this cold Off we went into the cold weather and arrived at a particular hollow tree. Putting ones ear to the tree allowed ahigh volume buzzing to be discerned. This particular local commenced to cutting the tree open and the chopping noise soon was joined by his high-pitched yells. Turns out, it wasnt quite as cold out as he thought. We did get the honey., .and enjoyed it mixed with melted butter and .spread upon those wonderful biscuits that can be found baking... ever-so at the Hartleys home. Thundering Springs Baptist Church was a second home to all of local families as we attended bible study, church gatherings, and listened to wonderful sermons presented by Pastor Berry. Sunrise services were heavily attended as the men would stay up most of the night pit barbecuing a whole hog and goat. I have never tasted such fine cooking. The countryside was wide open for a person to hunt and fish as they pleased., .a young boy could begin hunting within sight of his home and quickly bring home dinner. These were the 1960s and things will never again be the same. I have returned twice and plan many other future trips to Lee County. Until then, I will reminisce of all the wonderful people. Jerry (Reed) Jacobson 78 Hard Times During the years that we lived on that dirt road, we didnt have a lot of material things, but we were blessed with good health and the ability to grow what we needed. Im not saying we could eat everything that we wanted, but we never went to bed hungry. One spring and summer we ate so many turnip greens we had to wear kerosene rags around our ankles to keep the cut worms away. This was the same year my parents must have thought I was dying. I say this because they took me to the doctor. That was the only time anyone went to the doctor, they had to think you were at deaths door. Anyway, when we arrived at the doctors office they tried to draw blood from my arm and all they could get was pot likker. Enough of that. But to this day, I still think that a bowl of pot likker (turnips or peas) with some combread crumbled up in it and a big ole onion chipped up on top of it and some black pepper sprinkled in it, with a large glass of buttermilk is as good of a meal as a man can ask for. We would grow sweet potatoes and bury them in a hill until the fall. Then we would go out and dig a few to bake and put some churned butter on them. Quite a treat and if we were lucky maybe some were left in the warming oven when we got home from school. If not we could have a cold biscuit. We would punch a hole in the biscuit and fill it with cane syrup that we made on the farm. My cousin bought a few acres of land in the edge of the woods off Highway 195 between Leslie and Leesburg. He wanted to go back to living like he grew up. So he bought a mule and a few hogs and everything was going okay. He was growing vegetables and raising hogs and chickens, living the good life. Then one day the old mule dropped dead in the middle of the vegetable patch better known as the garden. He thought long and hard about what to do with the dead mule. He didnt have another mule to pull it out of the garden. He devised a plan that required digging a large hole next to the mule. Having done this, he proceeded to roll the mule over into the hole. One problem, the hole was not deep enough and the legs stuck above the hole. Not to be out done, he went to the bam and got a handsaw and proceeded to saw the legs off. When this was done, he put the legs in the hole and put pine straw in the hole and set it on fire. After the fire, he filled in the hole. Problem solved. He had a small pond behind the house and one day one of the hogs fell into the pond. He could see the hog was drowning. He may have gone down 79 three times, I dont know, but, anyway he got the hog out and tried to give it CPR, but said he stopped short of giving it mouth to mouth. The hog didnt make it so he butchered it. While he worked on the hams, shoulders, and the other parts of the hog to put it in the freezer, he gave the head to his, wife to prepare for Brunswick stew. When he got through cutting up the hog he went into the room where his wife was preparing the head. He stopped at the door and exclaimed in a veiy loud voice, Woman, what in the world are you doing? She explained that she was brushing the teeth and had already cleaned the nose holes. She said she would not cook the head if it was not clean. They lived happily ever after. I guess we all lived happily ever after, up and down that old dirt road. After all, we had the same thing nothing. But we didnt know it until someone told us that we had nothing. TomUsry Would You Believe... Cheerleading Would you believe that I was the very first male cheerleader for the basketball team at Lee County High School? Sure thing, thats right! Some of the boys, namely John Cromartie, Malcolm Gaines, Rody Stovall, Zack Pate, James Macolly, dared me to try out for cheerleading. Well, it wasnt exactly to try out, but to agree to do it I soon decided to take them up on this dare. Some of the girls went to Coach Sherman and told him about it, and he thought that it was a good idea! These girls happened to be Angie Arnold, Gay Forrester, Faye Spillers, Phyllis Devane, Gwen Stephens. They were the cheerleaders and I soon became the other cheerleader! Now the girls wore red skirts, white sweaters over white shirts, and white buck shoes.The sweaters had a monogrammed letter L over a megaphone emblem. But I wore red corduroy pants, white shirt, red bow tie and white buck shoes. Whenever our teams had out -of -town ballgames, wecheerleaders would attract attention, probably because no other teams had a male cheerleader. As we would walk into the gym, you could hear There he is.! I always Just ate this up!! Oh, how those were the good ole days!. Gary Eubanks 80 (ZAevtlc**Cer