UPSON COUNTY, GA - I Remember by Hartford Pryor 2004 ***************** Copyright. All rights reserved. http://www.usgwarchives.net/copyright.htm http://www.usgwarchives.net/ga/gafiles.htm *********************** This file was contributed for use in the USGenWeb Archives by: Hartford Pryor February 2004 I REMEMBER By Hartford Pryor. I remember in the 1980's at East rhomaston Baptist Church, Danny Stubbs was our Music Director and he was trying to teach us how to stand correctly with our legs apart and how to breathe from our diaphragm making it Easy for us to sing the high notes. One Wednesday night at choir practice we were practicing a song that had a very high note. He had us all to stand and told us when we come to this note to open our mouths and you would be able to sing the high note. He told us all to open our mouths wide enough to insert our two fingers into our mouths; and then we actually did this procedure. When we finished and removed our fingers from our mouths (hold your horse on the rest of this) Carson Wade pulled his fingers out and as he did his false teeth went flying across the choir room floor. You can guess what hap pened to the choir practice with every one laughing. Carson took it in stride and we finished our rehearsal. Editor's note:Carson Wade recently went to be the his Lord. He had been such a faithful choir member for over fifty years that the entire choir assem bled and sang one of his favorite songs at the funeral. ] There used to be a saying, "You haven't lived until you've slid a 'slop jar' (a form of chamber pot) on a cold linoleum rug." One day someone asked Fred McCoy, "How cold was it at your house last night." He replied on this order, "I don't know what the tempera ture was, but is was cold enough to freeze the "slop jar." [Editor's note: that means very, very cold. I know from experience.] March 2004 I REMEMBER By Hartford Pryor. I remember how in the 1940's and 1950's, Dr. E. A. Paulk operated a drug store across from the front gate of the Thomaston Division of Thomaston Mills. Almost everyone that worked in the mill used Paulk's pharmacy. Some times we would call the store and order something. Dr. Paulk, or his able assis tant Don Gaskin, would bring our order to the gate for us. If we needed to go to the store, our overseer was allowed to write out a pass and the gate watchman would let you out for your trip to the drug store. Thursday was a very busy day for Dr. Paulk; it was payday. Dr. Paulk and Don Gaskin would go to the bank and get several thousand dollars and then cash payroll checks for workers. For his services, Dr. Paulk would get the change, giving the worker an even dollar amount of cash. I would go over to the store every Thursday to get my check cashed and some of my fellow workers would ask me to take theirs, too. Sometimes, I would have as many as 12 checks to cash. Dr. Paulk always put the money for each person in a separate envelop with the person's name and the amount of money written on it. I remember when Mr. Billy Eubanks, owner of the Northside Su perette, started as a manager of the Big Apple Grocery Store at the comer of Bethel and Main Streets. He held that position until 1959 and then opened his own store. Everyone thought he was making a terrible investment since there were no businesses in the North side area. That was 39 years ago and he still has a thriving business. April 2004 I REMEMBER By Hartford Pryor. The Antioch United Methodist Church at 1606 Highway 19 North has a tradition of having a barbecue once a year—the first Saturday in March—to raise money for the church. The mem bers would start about three weeks in advance selling tickets. They had one member, Mr. John D. Childs, who was a very dedicated worker when it came to selling tickets. He had a goal of 600 and would always reach it. Mr. Childs worked in the cloth room of the Thomaston Division of Thomaston Mills. He would always begin his sell ing of tickets in Mr. George H. Hightower's office. Mr. George would buy five tickets and then give Mr. Childs permission to go through the mill to sell tickets. Every time he sold one, he would write the name of the person in a book. He did this so that the next year he could come back to them. The church has continued this event and according to my latest infor mation the barbeque has been going on for about 30 years. Mr. Childs passed away on August 11, 1997. He has been sorely missed both by his church and the community. Back about 1946 Atlanta newspa pers had articles about a man who held a grudge against women. He would walk the streets and throw acid in the face of a woman and then disappear into the crowd. One of his victims was a 19 year old Thomaston girl, Helen Lindsey, who was shopping in Atlanta. Her bums were mostly to her neck and shoulder and she carried the scars for the rest of her life. The man was finally caught and convicted of his terrible crime. May 2004 I REMEMBER By Hartford Pryor. I remember when there was a lot of ice and snow on the ground and my mother had to walk to work to the Fin ishing Division of Thomaston Mills. My Dad drove small tacks in the heels other shoes to keep her from falling. I remember when all three divi sions of Thomaston Mills used coal for heating. This was before any roads were paved, and when it rained they would put the ashes on the roads and sidewalks. When dry weather came and the wind would blow, you can imagine what kind of dust we had. I remember when we kids could hardly wait for summer to come so that we could go barefoot. As a result, we usually suffered from stumped toes and cut feed from broken glass bottles. We had kernels too. These kernels resulted from infection. In these modem times, you never hear of them. I'll describe a kernel the best I can. If a sore was on the foot or leg, there would usually be a really bad sore spot in the groin. With a cut on the hand, there would be a kernel in the armpit. Sometimes the infection caused chills and fever. We'd rub turpentine on the kernel. The old fashioned remedy used most was to put a cross (X) on it with soot (a black sub stance left in a fireplace after burning coal.) I remember in the 1930's when people were so poor they could not afford to purchase handkerchiefs. If you did have one it was usually home made from a cloth sugar bag. In the winter, with all the colds, you can imagine what many kids used to wipe their noses—their coat cleaves. There were a lot of shiny coat sleeves! June 2004 I REMEMBER By Hartford Pryor. Back in the late 1920's and 1930's, I remember how when school was out I'd go stay with my grandmother on the farm in the country for two weeks at a time. Her family had all kinds of ani mals. Chickens were running loose. We had boxes made for the hens in which they laid their eggs. It was my job each day to gather the eggs, and we knew about how many to expect. When we'd come up short, we knew one or two hens must have made nests in the woods. We'd try to follow them and gather the eggs, but sometimes the hen was setting and she was smarter than we were, protecting her eggs. Eggs hatched in about 21 days, and about a week after that the hen would reappear with her family of baby chicks. She would be making a loud cackle to get our attention as if to say, "Look at my family that I hid from you, and I am so proud of them." After that they would stay in the yard with all of the other chickens. I also remember that in the 40's Thomaston Mills had a baseball team. The catcher was Jack "Granny" Coch ran, and he worked in the machine shop with Mr. "Hot" Holcomb. Mr. Hoi comb was the manager of the team and gave Jack the nickname of Granny: because he was so slow. That nick name stuck with him for the rest of his life. In 1946, Jack was dating a lady that worked in the canteen. Daisy Jarrell. When they married, they had the wedding on the baseball diamond. The players formed an arch of baseball bats. Jack and Daisy walked under the arch. Pastor Herbert Morgan of East Thomaston performed the ceremony. July 2004 I REMEMBER By Hartford Pryor. I remember how in the 1930's Mr. Lonnie Reeves lived on North Main Street, 2nd house from the Peerless Mill; and my family, the Pryors, lived 2nd house from the Peerless on South Main. Since there were no houses be-tween ours, our front doors faced each other even though we lived on separate streets. Naturally, our families were good friends. When Mr. Lonnie Reeves' niece, Geneva Reeves, graduated from the Roberta High School in 1945 she came to Thomaston to live with her uncle and worked in the spinning room at the Peerless Mill. This was just before I got out of the Army and came back to my job with Thomaston Mills. Once I got home, very soon, she and I became close friends and started going to the East Thomaston Baptist Church together. After about three months, she en-rolled in a nursing training school in Macon for a three-year course, but we still kept in contact with each other. I did not have a car, but sometimes on the weekend I would catch a Trailways bus and go down to Macon and stay with her aunt there so that we could be together. Then, while she was still in fram-ing, her family moved to Thomaston and Neva would come home quite of-ten on the weekend; and we would be together. One day a group of us young folks met at my house and we were playing gospel songs on the old-fashioned re-cord player. At one time everyone was on the front porch, except Neva and me. We were still playing the gos-pel records in the living room. While we were there alone, I asked Neva to marry me. She said that she would. I went to the front porch and told the other young people. They all got excited and came into living room to congratulate us. The record player was still playing and someone asked me if that was the song playing when I asked Neva to marry me. I said, "Yes!" They all asked me if I knew the title of the song. To my surprise the name of the song was "I could hang my head in shame." Everyone got a big laugh out of that. We married in Au-gust 1949. After almost 55 years of living together, we are one happy couple! I've never had "to hang my head in shame." AUGUST 2004 I REMEMBER By Hartford Pryor A few Sundays ago in our Sunday School class, we learned about Zac-chaeus being in the Sycamore tree (Luke 19). The lesson brought back fond memories of a great preacher. It happened when Herbert Morgan was pastor of the East Thomaston Bap-tist Church. One Sunday, instead of reading his scripture. Brother Morgan began quoting it from memory. He started with the story about the people gathering in the streets of Jericho to see Jesus. Rev. Morgan said that there was a small man by the name ofNicodemas who wouldn't get to see Jesus because he was too short to see over the crowd, so he ran down the street and climbed a sycamore tree. When Jesus came by and saw Nicodemas in the tree he told him to make haste and come down be-cause he was going to his house to eat. The crowd of people didn't like this at all because Nicodemas was a tax col-lector who charged the people more money than he was suppose to collect. Then all at once he stopped (Herbert Morgan was absolutely un-flappable) and said, "Nicodemas come down from that tree, you're not sup-pose to be up there." Then he added, "Zacchaeus, you get up in that tree." After he got the cast of characters straightened out, he told how Jesus went home with Zacchaeus and that Zacchaeus had a change of heart and told the people if he charged them too much tax he would repay them four-fold. Whenever I hear the story of Zac-chaeus, I think of this and laugh. Sept 2004 I REMEMBER By Hartford Pryor Growing up in East Thomaston in the late 20's and 30's, there were no washing machines or electric driers. All washing was done in the yard in an oldfashion iron pot with a fire under it. Our mothers also used scrub boards. And don't forget, wash day always came no matter whether the weather was hot or cold. After the clothes were washed, they were hung on a clothes line to dry. This is where us kids had trouble. When playing, we were al ways running into clotheslines. Many times I would have a sore or red neck from my collisions with a my mama's or a neighbor's clothesline. "Thow'em in the creek!" A few days ago I was reminiscing, trying to think of something to write. Suddenly, I recalled the saying, "Thow'em in the creek." I was trying to think of where this saying came from, and Mr. Ike Salter came to mind. Ike Salter lived way out in the county in the Atwater district in the 1930's. When few peo ple had cars, he hauled passengers to and from Thomaston Mills. He met every shift and stood watching for his passengers at the gate. This was the way he would greet the people, "Thow'em in the creek!" Just one day last week, I was in Eckerd's waiting in line and there was a man in front of me that I thought I recognized as being a Salter. I asked him if he was. He replied, "Yes." I then asked. "Did you know Ike Salter. He replied, "That's my cousin— Thow'em in the creek." We both laughed. Even just today (August 6, 2004) I met a hospital pink lady and her name was Salter. I asked her if she knew Ike and said replied, "I sure do." October 2004 I REMEMBER By Hartford Pryor I remember in the 1930's and early 1940's there were very few elec tric refrigerators. Most people had ice boxes. Mr. Hays Arnold had an ice plant where Burger King is now lo cated. Ice was delivered to your door by horse and wagon. Mr. W. R. Bames and Mr. Harvey Greene were drivers. (Harvey Greene later founded and op erated Greene Propane Gas Co. and also served several terms as Mayor of Thomaston.) Everyone had an "ice card" with very colorful numbers on it. The card was 12 inches by 12 inches with a number on each comer. "Red, 25; Tan, 50; Green, 75; Black, 100. The card was to be hung on the front of your house (usually in a window) if you needed ice. The amount you needed was determined by what number was at the top of the card. The number repre sented pounds of ice. The wagons were loaded at the plant with 500 pound blocks of ice that were premarked for easy cutting into smallersized blocks of varying weights. When the driver saw the number of pounds that you wanted, he'd take an ice pick and cut a block of ice of that weight from one of the large blocks in the back of his wagon. He would then carry the ice that you or dered into your house and put it into the ice box. The wagons would ride the streets of Thomaston, East Thomas ton, and Silvertown. Mr. and Mrs. D. J. Sessions have one of the cards in a frame hanging in their den. It belonged to D. J.'s father, Mr. B. 0. Sessions. All of this is a far cry from to day's modem refrigerators with auto matic ice makers. November 2004 I REMEMBER By Hartford Pryor I remember how a "preacher's kid" became a useful citizen. In 1955 East Thomaston Baptist Church called a new pastor. Rev. W. D. Whiddon. He and his wife Agnes had three children: Bill, Fay, and Jimmy. Jimmy was 5 years old and very mis chievous. All the while they were with us, he pulled some pranks that really upset our people. ' Before air conditioning, we kept all the church windows raised. One window, opening into the choir loft was very low. Jimmy ran into the choir loft and sat down in the window, from which there was s 25foot drop to the ground. Choir members hastily pulled him to safety. Another Sunday, the preacher looked out of one of the open windows and saw Jimmy, who had escaped the church nursery, running toward the railroad tracks. Rev. Whiddon had to stop preaching and tell Agnes to go catch him. One rainy Sunday a puddle of water formed by the front door of the church. Jimmy jumped up and down in the puddle, splashing everyone else. At home he so misbehaved that his parents sometimes had to lock him in a closet or tie him to the bedpost. The rest of the story warms your heart. Jimmy became a skilled musi cian, traveling for a while with a band led by Hank Williams, Jr. More re cently he moved to Douglas, Georgia, to care for his 92yearold mother. He also serves as organist for the Reedy Springs Baptist Church. He earns his living by repairing musical instruments. In spite of his mischief, he turned out real good! December 2004 I REMEMBER By Hartford Pryor I remember in the late 20's & 30's when hog killing time behind the Peer less Mill came, we kids could hardly wait. We stood around and watched the adults do all the work. There was one main job we were waiting for and that was when they split the hog open and lay his intestines out. We would scram ble to see who could get the bladder first. Then we would clean it out real good and take an automobile tire pump and blow it up real tight, tie a string around it to keep the air in and then let it dry for several hours. It became so tough that you could hardly burst it and then we would all play ball with it. In the middle 30's when I was about 10 yearsold I would watch and help my Grandmother Storey make butter. She would take a large earthen ware container called a chum that had a lid to fit the top that had a small hole in the center, then she would take the plain milk and pour it into the chum and sit it aside in a warm place near the old fashioned wood stove. It would sit several hours until it would clabber (sour). Then she would insert a small stick with the cross pieces on the wood called the dasher and go up and down vigorously for a long time until the clabber would turn to buttermilk and the butter would be on the top. Then she'd separate the butter from the milk and mold it into different shapes with designs on top of the butter. Some de signs would be flowers, butterflies or birds.