The Boogie Man

Aunt Helen and Uncle Vernon and their three sons, Brian, Benet and Barry, spent a lot of time at our house, so Bobbi (my sister) and the boys and I spent many hours playing together. Brian and Bobbi were about the same age and Barry was the youngest. (At the time of this story Barry was about 3 or 4 years old.) One evening, after a day of rain we were playing on our large wrap-around porch because the grass was too wet for playing. There was a door to the front of the house and another one on the side of the house. It was beginning to get dark and Brian and Bobbi were teasing Barry and telling him that the Boogie Man was going to get him. He finally went in the side door and told Uncle Vernon that they were scaring him. Uncle Vernon told him that he would take care of it. He went out the back door, quietly sneaked around the side of the house, and crawled under the bushes by the front porch. Since the bushes were wet, he put a white handkerchief on his head to keep his hair dry. He peered through the porch railing and, in a mournful voice said, "Ooooh." Bobbi and Brian saw the face peeking through the railing, saw the white handkerchief and heard the moan and thought the Boogie Man had really come. In the meantime, knowing that it was his father, Barry went around the side of the porch and in the side door. Brian and Bobbi both started screaming and running for the front door. However, the door wouldn't open because one of them was pulling on the door and the other one was pushing on it. It was a sight to behold. They were screaming and dancing there by the door until, upon hearing the racket, our Dad opened the door from the inside. Both of them continued to scream and cry until they were convinced that it was just Uncle Vernon and not the Boogie Man. Bobbi's face was drained of all color. I have never seen anyone so frightened. Uncle Vernon felt so bad about scaring them that way, but they never teased Barry about the Boogie Man again.

A Visit from Aunt Alice

Whenever folks came to visit Aunt Gladys or my grandparents, they would all congregate in Aunt Gladys' room. One time Aunt Alice (granddaddy's sister) came to visit us from NC. She was very thin, tall (6'5"- I always thought she was an 8 ft giant), had short, curly, gray hair and had a big,deep voice. One afternoon during one of her visits, she was taking her daily nap on Aunt Gladys' bed in the front room. Now a nap for her meant getting on her nightgown and laying across the bed. She slept so soundly that if she hadn't been snoring you might have thought she was dead or in a coma. Midway through her nap there was a knock at the door. It seems the preacher had come to visit Aunt Gladys. Panic ensued. Grandmother asked the preacher to have a seat on the porch for just a minute. She hurried into Aunt Gladys' room and shook Aunt Alice saying,"Alice, Alice, get up and go dress, the preacher is here to see Gladys." Aunt Alice opened one eye and replied in her deep southern accent," Aw, tell him to come on in, he don't bother me none." So, grandmother threw a blanket over Aunt Alice, ushered in the preacher and he visited with Aunt Gladys in spite of the snores that came from under the blanket.

A Time Remembered

Well here goes. I am going to attempt to write some of the memories from my childhood. Maybe some day my grandchildren or great-grandchildren will put them in a book. Most of the stories that I will write took place in the 1940's and 50's. That was a time when a dollar would give you a half tank of gas, five cents would buy a Hershey bar that was twice the size of the Hershey bars today and you could go to the movies for 25 cents and see a cartoon, a serial, the weekly news and a full length film. You could even stay and watch the whole show over again if you wanted. These were good times for kids. We didn't have TV so we spent our time outside, playing in the woods, running in the fields, riding our bikes and just having general good fun.
Our family consisted of mom, dad , my sister (who was 4 years yonger than I) and myself. We lived in an apartment on the second floor of a house owned by my grandparents. Grandmother, granddaddy and an invalid aunt lived on the first floor. There was a room in the attic that was inhabited by several folks over the years. The first I remember was a nurse we called Aunt Bert, who was not really a member of the family.

Through the years several family members lived in the house. Jean, a cousin, who was the product of a broken home, an aunt and uncle and their three boys, my great-grandmother(Dad's grandmother, my other grandmother(Mom's mother) and various other visitors. It seems that grandmother's table always had at least 10 places set at one time, many times there were more.

Our Aunt Gladys, who had MS for years and coiuld not walk, was confined to a rocking chair in the front room of the house. That was where everyone congregated. My sister and I loved to go downstairs to her room and visit with all of the friends and relatives there. There is something positive to be said for an extended family living in one place. There were good times and bad times in that house. I hope that over the next few weeks or months I will be able to make you understand what wonderful things happened there.

It's been a long time

It has been a long time since I have blogged. Never considered myself a writer. But...I have been reading Ernest J Gaines books and after reading "Mozart and Leadbelly" I have been inspired to write once more. I am in the process of writing the memoirs from my childhood. So many of my family have heard the stories, but I thought I should write them down for the future generations. Sat down and wrote about 5 pages this afternoon. Never believed I could write, but the words just came. Every once in a while I will write some of it on this blog. Some of the stories are very funny , some of them are pathetic. Keep an eye out for the first installment soon.
I wouild suggest anyone who is interested in the conditions in the South between 1930's and 1970's read Ernest J Gaines' books..especially "The Autiobiography of Miss Jane Pittman" and
" A Gathering of Old Men". Don't know how I missed reading these before.

Will write the first installment of my memoirs in a few days.