Dan was always the sergeant, fully in command with the rest of us boys his privates. This summer day we were fighting the Japanese on some Pacific Island.
We crawled, jumped over oak tree stumps, eased through briars and bushes on the Perry farm overlooking Norris Lake in 1954. We knew that our Sergeant Dan was about to have us attack the Japs, win another victory and march home later that day being patriotic soldiers in this boys’ army. Well, Dan gave the command and told us we would mop up our enemies and march them to base and they would be singing “Amazing Grace” on their way to base as prisoners.
Playing army was fun, but Dan and some of the boy soldiers found the real army much different 10 years later.
One of my brothers was severely frightened of snakes. All of us boys knew that. We were going swimming in Norris Lake where it joined our farm. Another brother and I decided to leave early and have a surprise waiting for him. We found an old metal bucket on the bank, opened it, filled it half full of water, then caught six water snakes, put them in the bucket, closed the lid and waited for the other boys to get there. When they arrived, I told my brother who was afraid of snakes to go open the bucket as there was a surprise for him inside. He ran to the bucket, pulled off the lid and out came six snakes seeking freedom.
Well, that was a surprise as those snakes had all of that bucket they could stand. The last we saw of our brother was the rocks flying from under his bare feet. He left the lake heading for the mountaintop where we lived, and I do believe I saw a tiny contrail follow him up the mountain.
We had a new very pretty, 18-year-old teacher at Rose Hill School. All of us boys fell for her with a bad case of puppy love immediately. We all had a meeting on the school yard, looking for a way to welcome her in our rural Appalachian way. Someone came up with the numbskull idea which all us boys thought was great to place something on her desk.
Well, that night we all snuck from our homes, met at Rose Hill School, and found the object to put on her desk. We had opened a window beforehand, carried the object through the window, placed it on her desk and all went home thinking how nice the gift was and how it would be appreciated by our new, lovely young teacher.
Well, when she arrived the next morning, feeling so good and looking for a nice day of trying to educate this bunch of girls and boys, she opened the lock, coughed a couple of times, and then started crying. Her eyes saw a 20’ cedar log placed lovingly on her formerly cleaned and organized desk.
Boys at that age do not understand the emotional changes and her not appreciating all the work and planning that went into such a thoughtful project.
Well, chalk one down as not having the desired result.
I think it was the year of 1958 that Norris Lake was turned red. Yep it happened. On the Sharps Chapel or west side of Norris Lake there had been some iron ore mines early in the 1910-1920’s. This was started again in in 1958 but Norris Lake had been formed in 1934. The mining company had lots of heavy equipment brought in with large TD25 International Bulldozers, stripping and loaders loading dump trucks to haul the iron ore from the hill on the shore of Norris Lake.
Then the rains came, washing the loose iron ore into the lake. The lake actually turned red that summer. Naturally the TVA put an end to this mining venture.
Now there are homes built on the iron ore site.
When I was about 13 our neighbor Will Russell had an old Plott hound that learned we fed our two feist dogs around noon. We would leave the fields at 11 a.m. because our dad thought there was nobody like Bob Barker who had a national quiz show.
We would eat dinner and then feed our small dogs. This Plott hound of Will’s would sneak up behind our house, whip our two small dogs and then eat their food.
Our dad wanted to shoot Will’s hound but knew Will would be mad and might shoot one of our cows — or worse — our work mule.
Dad told me he would come up with a way to get rid of that hound. I decided I could handle the situation, so I watched the situation for a week. The hound would sneak up at around 11:45 every day and wait until we had fed our dogs, then sneak around the house, jump our dogs who had begun to eat, then eat their food and lick the metal pan.
He would move to the front yard, scratch the ground around the same pine tree so the damp soil would cool him, lay down and go to sleep.
I looked around and there was dad’s wheel saw made by David Bradley. Well, the answer came like a light bulb turning on. I had plenty of dynamite wire I salvaged from a rock quarry near Rose Hill School.
I went into the barn and unraveled about 15 feet of dynamite wire, moved the wheel saw about 10 feet from where the Plott hound slept after whipping our dogs and eating their food.
The next day like clockwork here he came, whipped our dogs, ate their food and went to the same pine tree, scratched the dirt and laid down for a good nap.
I waited 10 minutes for him to get into a deep sleep, took the wire and twisted one end to the spark plug wire, placed it under his wet tongue. I gently eased over to the wheel saw, placed one foot on the saw to steady it and then gave the starter rope a good pull.
Immediately the dogs tail straightened. Then his hind end rose off the ground and started running before his front got up. The dog didn’t know what hit him, but he didn’t want no more. Then his front end got up, but his back end was already pushing him in a half loop. He got his bearings and the last thing I saw of him was his rump trying to outrun his front end on his way back to Will’s house.
Dad ask a few days later if any of us boys had seen the Plott hound. I told him I had but the dog looked confused, scared, and had trouble running. That was the last time our dogs went hungry.
When I went to Horace Maynard High School, the students had a smoking area on the south side near the south entrance. It was outside behind the main girl’s restroom.
In the spring of 1961, I had saved up 65 cents to buy a pack of Pall Mall cigarettes. While smoking and horsing around before the bell rang to start school, one of the boys found a 4-foot black snake. He wanted to kill the snake, but I asked him not to.
I said, “Give it to me. I have plans for the snake.” The window for the bathroom was rolled out at the top for ventilation and we could hear the girls giggling and laughing inside the bathroom.
I took the black snake, gave it a hurl up above the rolled-out window. It came down, slid down the inside of the window and landed on the shoulder of a girl sitting on the commode minding her own business.
The snake looked her in the eye. All of us boys rushed through the door to see what was going to happen. It really broke loose, as girls came streaming out the restroom door screaming, pulling up under garments and trying to get traction on the hall floor. The girl that the black snake landed on came out in a terrible mess.
Well, nobody ratted me out. The principal Claude “The Cat” stalked the school for two weeks trying to find out who did such a terrible deed. I hope the snake made it through the ordeal. A very fond memory from good ole HMHS. Go Red Devils.
Well, enough reminiscing sitting on the porch, but being a boy and a teen once, I do not trust them.