Newspaper, Grassroots & Cockleburrs, "El Possineno" Returns..., LaSalle Parish, LA. GRASS ROOTS AND COCKLE BURRS- "El Possimeano" Returns… By Jack Willis Transcribed by Pat Ezell, PatEzell@worldnet.att.net Submitted by: Kathy LeMay Kelly, P.O. Box 219, Trout, La. 71371 From the Jena Times - Olla Tullos Signal, Wed., December 1, 1999, Section B, Page 3 Thank You to the Times -Signal for allowing the following to be added to the Archives. ********************************************** Copyright. All rights reserved. http://usgwarchives.net/copyright.htm http://usgwarchives.net/la/lafiles.htm ********************************************** Many people in the last three or so years have asked repeatedly, "Where did you come up with the name for your column?" Actually, it happened about 2:30 a.m. as I lay in bed pondering whether I should attempt a weekly feature or not. I wanted to make a preliminary statement in the title which would reflect the attitudes, behaviors, life-styles and temperamental display of a predominately Scots-Irish population, indigenous to the former Catahoula Prairie District of Northeast Central Louisiana. The focus was to attempt to preserve bits of history, interwoven with Southern folklore influences and native humor and eccentricities found only in the South. With a few interruptions GR and CB has been ongoing for over three years now. People constantly call or contact me to furnish topical information about a variety of subjects. One person I wrote about brought on more comments than any other and to say I was surprised is an understatement. The person I'm referring to is James Lamar "Poss" Corley. He was known to a large segment of local populace and comments were definitely forthcoming. His reputation was known far and near. James Lamar "Poss" Corley was born on May 9, 1930, at where else? Possum Point (Rogers), La. He often said he received the bulk of his formal education at Nebo University. In fact, that citadel of higher learning is where he procured his nickname, that would stay with him the rest of his tragically shortened life. "Poss" was in about the fourth grade of a two-room school where children of all elementary ages attended. The community was Nebo and on the faculty was Boatner "Joe Bolt" Coon, Eli Plummer, Laura Bradford, Josie Ray Edwards, and I.O. Swayze as principal. On one particular day, it was "little" recess and the children were running and playing. A boy older than "Poss" had been giving him a hard time, playing the part of the perfect bully. He decided he would give "Poss" a whipping just for the heck of it. As soon as the bully passed the first lick, "Poss" feel out on the ground just like a pole-axed steer. The bully just looked at him and went on in other pursuits. There was a piece of a 2x4 nearby about three feet long. "Poss" picked up the board, heffed it and ran up behind the bully and cold-cocked him at the base of his skull. Needless to say, he was unconscious. Boatner Coon had watched the whole scenario unfold. After he got the bully revived, he patted "Poss" on the back and said, "you played possum, didn't you, Lamar?" And the nickname stuck. "Poss" was very mechanically minded. He quit high school in the 10th grade and joined the Air Force. He was trained in electronics and communications. After one tour of duty, the rigidity and discipline were too much for "Poss," and he mustered out. "Poss" could repair TV sets, short-wave radios, or do electricians work offshore. He would get a job about the first of February when squirrel and rabbit season closed and work 'till the first of October, all the while putting those 20 dollar bills on his hip. It didn't make any difference how good the job working conditions were or how much money he was making, "Poss" was going to be in the woods camped out on the first Saturday in October. He had infinite patience when he was in the woods and oft times hunted with a .22 rifle. This particular rifle would later on take his life. "Poss" was the definite example of a cockleburr. He was just looking for a place to hang out. I asked him one time why he never married. He said he was a confirmed bachelor. For him, he couldn't stand the confinement it represented to him. He had no particular goals to try to reach, and didn't have any noble achievements in mind. He asked me in return, "You know what a bachelor is, don't you?" I said, "No, probably not, according to your definition." He said, "A bachelor is a guy who doesn't have any children to speak of," and fell out laughing. I never saw "Poss" drive an automobile. I suppose he could. But he could ride the dickens out of a Harley Davidson motorcycle. He owned, as did James Goetzman, a Harley 74. It had dual exhausts with a straight pipe on one side. He could rattle every window in the businesses on the main drag if he were a mind to. He had the first set of plastic saddle bags secured over the rear fender. Ingenious, as he was, he took a drill, bored him about six small holes in the bottom of each pouch. Each side would hold a six pack of Falstaff complete with a compliment of ice. Naturally, this practice necessitate frequent pit stops to partake of a little libation. (To be Continued) ********************************************************************************************* GRASS ROOTS AND COCKLE BURRS- The Return of El Possimeno From the Jena Times - Olla Tullos Signal, Wed., December 15, 1999, Section B, Page 12 THE RETURN OF EL POSSIMENO… In continuing the life and times of James L. "Poss" Corley, one cannot overlook "Poss's" skills at the gaming tables or gaming devices. A young lad in his teens (13-18) had to serve out an apprenticeship period in the Jena Pool Hall to get the approval of the "big boys" as part of growing up. It didn't take "Poss" very long to master the beginning course, Rotation Pool 101. This is where you shot and pocketed the numbered balls 1 thru 15 in numerical order. Then, one graduated up to associating with the "big boys." The object being in most cases, to "make" the eight or nine ball last, thus winning the contest. Then, there was the Ph.D. of pocket billiards, the "snooker" table. One of the prime objectives in shooting pool is to learn how to "snooker" the opposing player by leaving the objective ball in an unattainable position to be hit with the cue ball. Part of this skill is learning "shape" by putting various spins on the cue ball by applying "English." "Poss" had an affinity for these arts and soon became a post master. The pool tables were small change compared to the Domino tables. In the Jena "den of iniquity" as the pool hall was oft referred to, there were only four rotation pool tables and one snooker table. Snooker games took longer to play, required a blackboard and chalk and were more expensive to operate. Fifteen cents was charged by Henry "Rock" Hudson or Paul "Goosey" Waggoner; whoever T.O. "Pop" Watson had in charge of the pool tables while he played Dominoes. Fridays, Saturdays or rainy days it was wall to wall males. You could literally cut the smoky atmosphere with a knife. If drilling rigs were stacked, as they often were in the 50s, the main occupation for floor hands, derrick men, drillers and pushers was hanging around for some word to start "riggin' up," preparatory to drilling a new well. Domino games for sums like $50, $100 or even $1,000 were not unusual. A payday could be lost in a matter of a few hours. Some of the older, more seasoned plays had made a life long study of the mechanics of the game and the only thing that interrupted the rapid-fire playing sequence was a misplay from a mental lapse. This brought on much discussion, profanity, and general hell raising. You could bet the guilty party wouldn't pull that bonehead stunt ever again. Another game of skill interwoven with great dexterity, intermingled with a lot of luck was situated about 17 miles west of Jena, known as the Village of Tullos. It was located at Moore's Drive-In. Jena had been voted dry along with the rest of LaSalle Parish, except the area within the town limits of Tullos. For those with the habit, it was Jonesville or Tullos, which was closer by about nine miles. Therefore, the main industry in Tullos, secondary to oil production, was the dispensation of alcoholic beverages. There were numerous retail establishments, at which to purchase the beer of your choice. No hard liquor was sold - not by license, anyway. Some of the stores, aka joints, dives, win sheds, etc., were Shep's, Bambergs, Monroe Master's Place, Billy's, "Doodle White's, Jack Jarvis' Pool Hall, as well as Jimmie Bardin's Pool Hall. The establishment that drew the little cowboys from Jena, Nebo, Belah, and other LaSalle Parish communities as well as Grant, Winn, and Caldwell Parishes was Amos Moore's Drive-In. Amos had come to Tullos in the 20s during the oil boom and stayed. Somewhere in the 40s, he and his wife, Clara, opened their café to dispense ice cold beverages and food. Elouise Winslow was the cook and could turn out some baby back ribs that would melt in your mouth. A lot of drunks sobered up on her chili or beef stew. The Moore's drawing card was their bowling machine. Everybody and his brother came from far and near to compete. It cost a quarter to play, and as many as four could participate. The machines used a hard rubber ball just a little larger than a soft ball, and it kept score just like a regular bowling alley, utilizing spares and strikes. Talk about getting hustled! You might think you were pretty skillful, and you were, until you went head-to-head with Miz Moore or one of the young ladies employed there. You could be out in front for the first nine frames and then they'd skunk you with three straight strikes on the last frame. There would be a goodly gathering of fun loving indulgers going on at Moores, when the roar of a Harley 74 could be throttling down without the front double doors. In a minute the door would fly open and in would stroll one "Poss" Corley in his motorcycle outfit. This consisted, dependent upon weather, a Snoopy World War I aviator's cap, complete with goggles, an old Air Force blouse, Lee Rider jeans, and engineering boys with the buckle on the side of the instep, ala Marlin Brando in The Wild One. "Poss had large eyes and you expected at times for one to look in one direction and the other eye off somewhere else. Kind of like the Budweiser chameleons. You knew the expert had arrived when he started taking off his rigging. He'd reach in one of his front jeans pockets, pull out a quarter, stroll over to the bowling machine, drop it in the slot, and holler, "I'm up!" The standard wager was a long neck beer of the winner's choice. Sometimes you could "partner up" with one of the house hostesses and be assured, as long as you shot skillfully, you wouldn't have to pay up for any beer you drank for the duration of your stay. If "Poss" accidentally bowled a spare he knew the exact spot to hit at the back of his machine, with the bowling ball and pick it up. He could always salvage at least 20 points. In was unknown why, but "Poss" carried his money, usually 30 dollar denominations, in the toe of his boots. If it just got to the point that "Poss" had to buy a round, he'd take off his boot in the back room and set everyone up. That very seldom happened. To sum up "Poss's" personality, one would have to agree that he was mischievous, fun loving, and daring enough to stay just one step ahead of the law, sometimes… "Poss," as stated before had numerous girlfriends, but one gave him an order and she meant it. "Poss" disobeyed what she said and she very simply shot him five times in the heart. She meant what she said, and said what she meant… Thus ended the life of one of this areas funniest, most talented, characters ever birthed in this century…back when.