A Boy From Down East - Growing Up In Aurora NC

Our First Home

2011-08-10T08:16:00.000-04:00

Just before we got married it dawned on me we needed a place to live. With all that was going on this had completely slipped my mind. Needless to say, I panicked. I mentioned it to Granddaddy and he suggested I call my Aunt Lucille Stilley and ask her if I could rent her old home in Edward, NC.

Aunt Lucille Stilley

Aunt Lucille was one of my favorite Aunts and had lived all her life in the Edward house. The Edward house was the old homestead house of my Great Great Grand Dad, Dr. Burton Stilley. The old house had been re-modeled and added on to several times over the generations. It was a neat old house.

She was what you call an Old Maid or Spinster. She never married and lived with her mother Aunt Polly. She was a teacher and taught the 3rd grade in Aurora for her entire career.

When Aunt Polly died things changed. She retired from teaching and started dating a man from the other side of the river. I can remember Grandmomma and Granddaddy talking about how disgusting this was. It was not long before she married the man and moved across the river with him.

Great Aunt Polly Stilley Fulcher

I called Aunt Lucille and asked if I could rent her house after I got married. Her response was she would have to meet the young lady I was going to marry before she could even consider it. So we set up a day and time for Sara and me to drive over to see her.

When we arrived at the house we spent the next several hours setting on the front porch with Aunt Lucille drinking ice tea and talking about everything under the sun. Sara had picked up a present for Aunt Lucille, a nice music box. Aunt Lucille collected music boxes and she loved this one. After what seemed like forever she finally looked at Sara and said, “I like this girl. You can rent the house.”

After a few more minutes of small talk I got up the nerve to ask her how much the rent was going to be. She responded, “Don’t you worry about that. You just keep the yard mowed and the upkeep on the house. We can talk about rent later.”

For the entire time we lived in the house she would never let us pay a dime in rent. The fact is she would not let us pay for the electricity either. This was not a bad way to start out a marriage.

With the deteriorating situation at home I went ahead and moved into the house the week before the wedding. I still remember those first few nights staying there alone. It is amazing how spooky and noisy an old house can be. It seemed to creak and moan all night. I didn’t notice it after we were married and both lived there. I think the house liked Sara also.

Did I mention the house was fully furnished with antiques that she had left when she moved out? Not only furniture, but all the linens, towels, utensils, etc. was still in the house. We needed nothing to move in.

In addition when I moved in I found the pantry was fully stocked with can foods and there was fresh eggs and milk in the refrigerator. Like I said before she was one of my favorite Aunts.

The original house had a separate kitchen and dining room separated from the main house by a long porch or breezeway. This served two purposes; if the kitchen caught on fire from the old wood stove it was less likely to spread to the main house. The other reason for a separate kitchen was during the summer you did not heat up the main house when cooking. This kitchen was also fully furnished with old utensils.

The old kitchen and dining room had not been used in years. When Aunt Polley got older they remodeled the main house and added a modern kitchen on it. Yet, I still can vaguely remember having big family meals back in the old dining room.

The two upstairs bedrooms were also furnished with antiques. I remember each had a fold down writing desk, complete with old stationary and pens. There were shelves of books everywhere that had been collected over the generations. Aunt Lucille gave me and I still have a complete set of 1877 encyclopedias. This is still one of my prized possessions.

Outside in the yard was an old abandoned chicken coop and a large barn. The one thing I remember about the barn was it had one room full, from floor to ceiling, of old newspapers. I don’t think they had ever thrown away a newspaper. I did not explore much of the barn because I was worried about snakes.

In the back yard there were also several different types of fruit trees. There were apple trees, plum trees and peach trees. Next to the house was approximately a one acre stand of pecan trees.

In the front yard was another of my favorite memories of this house. There was a huge arbor made of muscadine grapes. The front part was green grapes and the back part was the purple grapes, my favorite. Every year when they were ripe Aunt Polley and Aunt Lucille would have the family over to pick and eat grapes. It was always a fun time of the year.

After we moved out of the house I believe a few other people lived in it but not for long. I remember going back to Edward for a visit and seeing the yard grown up with bushes as tall as the house and the house starting to lean. This year we drove by the site where the house once stood and there is nothing left of the house and no visible sign that there was ever a home there.

One of the things you begin to realize as you grow older is a house does not make a home. This house had been there for over a hundred years and stood straight and strong full of a families love. But, after everyone moved out it lost its strength and was soon gone.

I miss that house as Sara and I got a great start in our marriage in it, learning how to play house and build a home together.

This too was part of growing up in Aurora NC.

The Honeymoon

2011-07-27T09:48:00.001-04:00

After the wedding was over Sara and I were chauffeured to the reception at the Holiday Inn in New Bern, NC by Craig and Lori. Once there the handshakes, hugs and an occasional slap on the back began in full.

The music was good and the drinks were flowing. There were lots of snacks and h’orderves but, I was not thinking about the food. After what seemed like ages it was finally time to cut the cake, which was one step closer to us leaving and the honeymoon starting.

Just prior to cutting the cake all the single girls and ladies got together to catch the bride’s bouquet. Sara’s mind must have also been on something else because when she threw the bouquet, she threw it straight into the wedding cake. They got it off the cake and cleaned it. The next time she threw it in the right direction and my Best Man Craig’s girlfriend, Lori, caught it.

Next I had to remove her garter and throw it for the single guys. It was no easy task removing it when my mind was on something else and being there was too close to the subject. But, in the end I managed to get it off and thrown. Hopefully soon all the silly rituals would be over.

We cut the cake and feed each other the first bite. At least she did not smash it into my face as she had threatened to do during the rehearsal and planning. After several toasts of champagne I thought enough is enough and it is time to leave.

She must have been thinking the same thing because we both looked at each other and said at the same time, “Let’s get out of here!” Unfortunately her father, Jack Campbell, overheard us. He immediately pulled me aside and told me it was time for us to have a drink.

Up until this point I had only drank a couple of sips of champagne because I wanted a clear head when the real party began later. Jack pulled me to the bar and reached behind it and took out a bottle of something and made me a drink. I am not sure what it was but one big swallow and it cleaned my tonsils, my sinuses and my upper digestive track. Before I could get away from him and several of his cronies I had drunk several more glasses of this concoction and I was feeling no pain.

I finally made it back to Sara and we announced we were leaving. There was the usual ton of rice being thrown as we ran out to our car to leave. Of course they had decorated my car which now looked like a cross between a bathroom and a garbage truck with all the empty cans tied to the back and the toilet paper wrapped around it. Once we got out of New Bern and found a lonely stretch of country road I pulled over and pulled off most of the toilet paper and cut the strings of empty cans, which I noticed were all empty beer cans. Sorry about the big pile of litter left by the road that night.

We made it to Washington, NC and spent our first night as a married couple at the Holiday Inn. The next morning . . . What, you didn’t think I was going to say anything? Remember this is a “PG” rated story.

The next morning we got up and took off on our honeymoon and headed for the Outer Banks of North Carolina for a few days of sun and fun. It turned out to be overcast and rainy most of the time but we still had a lot of fun. This was indicative of our marriage; even when the rains come we always have fun.

The closer we got to Nags Head the more excited we got and the faster I drove. I guess I was thinking of other things instead of my driving because twice I spun the car 360 degrees when I hit water pooling in the road. As has been the case so often in our lives God was watching over us because we did not wreck or wind up in a ditch. But, I still did not slow down.

We did not have a lot of money when we got married. In fact, it took almost every penny I had saved to cover the cost of the motels and any food we might eat. So to be safe and to allow us to have a little fun I went to the bank before the wedding and borrowed one hundred dollars.

As we pulled onto the island and headed north to the motel a strange blue light began to flash in my rear view mirror. I pulled over and waited for the biggest meanest looking cop to walk up and ask me, “Do you know how fast you were going BOY?”

I responded, “Hey, I am on my honeymoon. Can’t you give me a break?”

“Wrong answer, BOY.” and then he proceeded to write me an eighty-five dollar ticket which according to him I had to go to the courthouse in Manteo and pay that day. So much for the money I had borrowed.

We finally made it to the motel and checked in and the fun times began. Even with the rain, the overcast skies, the near wrecks and the ticket we had a great time. We did not let a few little challenges bother us.

If it was raining we stayed in our room or we went out to eat. We had lobster and steak for lunch and dinner every day we were there. I don’t remember us ever getting up early enough for breakfast.

We tried the beach but it was too cool and windy so we played tourist when we left the motel to explore. That is one of the nice things about the Outer Banks, there are plenty of things to do and see. Sara and I have always enjoyed playing the tourist and exploring new places and things.

We went everywhere we could. We visited the Elizabethan Gardens and explored the site of the Lost Colony. We climbed over old ship wrecks and toured the lighthouse. I especially like the time we spent at the Wright Brothers Memorial and Museum.

The one bad thing I noticed about the area was the place smelled fishy. Everywhere we went it smelled like dead and rotting fish. On the last day we were there I realized the smell was coming from our car. After going over every inch of the car I found that on the night of the reception Sara’s brother had filled each hub cap with sardines!

Our time and money finally ran out so we had to go home. We hated to see the honeymoon end but, in truth as of this writing, 38 years later, it has not ended yet. The honeymoon continues and the longer we’re together the greater the adventure and the more fun we have. The excitement continues to grow with every passing day.

This too was part of growing up in Aurora NC.

The Proposal

2011-06-29T08:05:00.000-04:00

This past Saturday while cleaning the garage I came across a box of letters my wife Sara and I sent to each other back in 1971 and 1972. I was going to the University of North Carolina in Chapel Hill and she was going to Hardbarger Business College in Raleigh. We must have written each other at least three or four times per week and these were some of the mushiest love letters I have ever read. Even after all these years they are still too hot to copy here.

One thing that is sure, based on these letters, we were both crazy for one another. Even though we saw each other almost every weekend you would have thought we were apart for months based upon the longing that is written in these letters.

The letters also confirm another memory I have about the fall of 1971; our conversations and thoughts were turning more and more to spending the rest of our lives together. We talked and wrote about getting married and building a future. We discussed everything from where we would live, to having children, and our own big happy family. It was time to get serious.

I decided during my Thanksgiving break I would officially ask Sara to marry me on Christmas Eve. The first thing that I realized I needed was a diamond ring. I felt sure a one to three carat ring would suffice and she would be happy with it so I started looking at rings. It did not take but one trip to a jewelry store for reality to set in. There would be the number one and three in the size but, it would have a backslash (/) between them and even then that was expensive.

Being a little old fashion and bound by honor on the Sunday before Christmas Eve I did the hardest part of asking Sara to marry me. I asked her father if I could marry his daughter. I was scared to death. He later told me he could hardly understand a word I was saying because I was stuttering so badly from nerves. After giving me one of the worst and meanest looks I ever saw he broke out laughing and gave me a big hug. When I told him it would be Christmas Eve before I proposed he was worried if he could keep it a secret that long but he did.

Being a broke college student the next step was to get a job to earn the money to pay for the ring. I found out that a contractor was doing a job for Texas Gulf Sulfur in Aurora and was hiring labors to work for three weeks. This was a short turnaround job over the Christmas holidays and they only had the three weeks to complete. It required a lot labor with strong backs and weak minds, right up my alley. The best thing was it paid $10.00 per hour plus OT which was unheard of in that area back then. The other great thing was it was twelve hours per day and six days per week. Not only did I make enough money for the ring but I had money to help cover my expenses for the next semester at school. God provides.

As soon as I cashed my first check I headed to Washington to my Uncle Eldon Hollowell’s jewelry store and picked up the ring. I thought it was beautiful and it sparkled so much that it looked bigger than it was. At least that is what I thought.

Being the deeply romantic person I am I decided to pop the question and give her the ring on Christmas Eve night. She had invited me over to her parents’ house to spend Christmas Eve with them. So to make it even more special I picked out the perfect box to wrap it up in.

I went to the Piggly Wiggly and got an empty paper towel box. I then taped the ring box to the bottom of the big box and stuff the box full of crumpled up newspaper, packing it tight. I wrapped the box with Santa Claus Christmas paper and put a big ribbon and bow on it. This was going to be great.

I could hardly wait for the time to come for me to go over to her house. It finally arrived and I pulled up into her driveway in my bright red Studebaker and got out with my great big present. I felt like Santa Claus getting out of my red sleigh and was grinning from ear to ear.

Now Sara had also been thinking about marriage and that we needed to take the next step in our relationship. She had been dropping hints about rings and other married things for some time. She was positive that I was going to propose to her on Christmas Eve and have a beautiful diamond ring for her. Why else had I been working the entire time I had been home from school on Christmas break? She was all excited and could hardly wait for me to get to her house on Christmas Eve night.

She later told me she ran to the window when she heard me drive up eager to see her anticipated Christmas gift. When I got out of the car and took that great big box out of the back she told me her heart drop and the disappointment almost brought her to tears. All she could think of was I had bought he another stuffed animal. How could I not understand and get all those hints? Didn’t I feel the same way she did about marriage?

I bounced up to the house, walking on air; all excited and could not wait for her to open her gift. Being my observant self I somehow failed to notice the lack of mutual excitement when she opened the door and looked at the package. She invited me in and told me to put the present on the coffee table.

She started to walk off into the kitchen but I stopped her and said she had to open the present now, I could not wait any longer. She unenthusiastically started to un-wrap the box. I was about to go crazy because she was taking so long.

She got the box unwrapped and finally opened it. She started removing the crumpled up paper and I could see she was getting aggravated. She looked up at me with a big question on her face and I told her just to keep looking, that I was sure I put a gift in there somewhere.

By the time she got to the bottom of the big box she was getting a little mad. Then she saw the little black box stuck to the bottom of the big box. She looked up at me with this look of “you did” on her face and reached in and grabbed the ring box.

I dropped down on one knee ready to ask her to marry me but before I could say a word she opened the box, let out a loud scream and took off running to the kitchen to show her mother. Well, that didn’t go exactly the way I had planned but it worked.

After all the celebrating and champagne the real planning began. Anyone who knows anything about our wedding knows that things were just about to get very interesting, to put it politely.

Sara never noticed how small that ring was and thought it was the greatest thing. The best thing about that ring is that after 39 years, as of this writing, it has not lost any of its luster and sparkle. Just like the woman that wears it, it still is just as beautiful and sparkly as the day I put it on her finger on Christmas Eve, 1971.

This too was part of growing up in Aurora NC.

Do Bees, Hobos, Captains and a Neighbor

2011-04-21T08:50:00.000-04:00

After watching children’s shows on television with my grandson the other night I longed for my shows when I was a child. Of course, back then, kid’s TV was a lot better. I am just not into all this Japanese style animation and computer generated gobbly-gook. Give me some good old Little Rascals mayhem and I am happy.

Prior to starting school in 1959, two shows dominated my TV time and I could hardly wait for them to come on. They were “Captain Kangaroo” and “Romper Room.” These two shows were entertaining, funny and you actually learned a few things about how to get along in life.

“Captain Kangaroo” was one of my all-time favorites and I watched it longer than any other show back then and now. With a side kick named Mr. Green Jeans and characters such as Mr. Bunny Rabbit and Mr. Moose, how could you go wrong? There were always lots of laughs and fun.

Each day I would wait for Mr. Bunny Rabbit to pull a trick on Captain Kangaroo or Mr. Green Jeans. This usually resulted in one or both of them getting wet or having a pie thrown in their face. I would roll on the floor laughing and still find it funny to this day as I think back about it.

Another childhood favorite TV show was “Romper Room.” I could hardly wait for it to start. As a very young boy I would try to be a good “Do Bee” and do everything right. As the jingle went:

“Do Be a ‘Do Bee’. Don’t be a ‘Don’t Bee’.”

“I always do everything right.

I never do anything wrong.

I’m a Romper Room Do Bee;

A Do Bee all day long!”

I would sit in front of the TV and not miss a second of the show. At the end of the show the most exciting part would take place. The teacher would get out her “Magic Mirror” and say:

“Romper, Stomper, Bomper, Bo.

Tell me, tell me, tell me do.

Magic Mirror tell me today.

Did all my friends have fun at play?”

At this point she would look into her mirror and start naming boys and girls who she saw were having fun. Somehow she never saw me and I was having the most fun of all.

But, then the most magical thing of all happened; I got to go on the show. A group of children from Aurora went to the WNCT studios in Greenville, North Carolina and we were on the show. Unfortunately I don’t remember who the other kids were but I do remember how excited I was to be on Romper Room, a dream come true.

This was not the only time I was on TV as a child. In the 1960’s I got to be on another children’s show produced in Washington, North Carolina at the WITN studios. It was called “Whitney the Hobo” and I would watch it every day after school. It was very funny and always had good cartons. My brother Mark and I went on the show and had a lot of fun.

As I grew older and later as my children were growing up we could hardly wait to hear the opening lyrics of:

It’s a beautiful day in this neighborhood,

A beautiful day for a neighbor.

Would you be mine?

Could you be mine?

I’ve always wanted to have a neighbor just like you.

I’ve always wanted to live in a neighborhood with you.

So, let’s make the most of this beautiful day.

Since we’re together we might as well say.

Would you be mine?

Could you be mine?

Won’t you be my neighbor?

Yes, it was time for “Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood” to come on television.

With his sneakers, zippered cardigan sweater and soothing voice he made you want to “be his neighbor.” When Trolley took you to the Neighborhood of Make Believe you were assured of a life lesson and a fun way to learn it.

I miss the simple times of children’s television in the 1960’s. It was uncomplicated and there was always a moral to be learned. There are good children’s shows on TV today but you do have to screen what your children watch because a lot of what is produced for children has little or no redeeming social value, to put it politely.

But, it is a beautiful day in this neighborhood and I still find myself singing “Won’t you be my neighbor” all the time.

This too was part of growing up in Aurora NC.

Date Night III - Raleigh

2011-04-08T08:56:00.000-04:00

During the time I was going to the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, Sara was attending college in Raleigh at Hardbarger Business College. Dating was always a challenge because neither of us had a car. But, where there is love you find a way.

On a few occasions Sara would take the bus to Chapel Hill and we would spend the day walking around the campus. In the late afternoon we would go to the bus station so she could catch the bus back to Raleigh. She didn’t do this often because when she got back to Raleigh she had to take a cab to Mrs. Murray’s where she lived while going to college.

Other times one of the other girls that lived at Mrs. Murray’s would drive her to Chapel Hill if I would “fix them up” with one of my friends. My friend Lonnie who roomed across the hall in my dorm was always ready, willing and able. The four of us would have a great time especially since we had a car and could go somewhere.

Usually I would go to Raleigh on the weekends to see Sara. My favorite, by necessity, means of transportation was to hitchhike. During this time in the early 1970’s I thought nothing of hitchhiking anywhere I needed to go. A friend and I hitchhiked from Chapel Hill to Myrtle Beach, SC and back one weekend and slept on someone’s floor we met at a club. That was one wild weekend and I only have hazy memories of it. Enough said.

When I was going to Raleigh I would wake up early Saturday morning and get out on the road. The key to a quick ride was to dress nice and smile. Just like today you had to “dress for success.” Using this technique and with my handy dandy sign that read “RAL” on one side and “UNC” on the other it rarely took long to catch a ride.

Usually it was the “hippies” that would stop and give me a ride. I like that because they would often take me all the way to downtown Raleigh even if it was out of their way. I have caught a lot of rides in VW mini vans with peace signs painted on the side. Often the lingering smell of a certain burnt plant would fill the van and the glazed look in their eyes confirmed what it was.

I remember once being picked up by an older gentleman in a big white Cadillac. He was short, overweight and wore a white suit. He talked my ears off all the way to Raleigh. He had gone to Carolina in the 1950’s and now owned several tobacco warehouses/markets. I had forgotten about him until the other night when I saw a rerun of the old TV show “Dukes of Hazzard.” This man looked just like Boss Hogg.

The goal of leaving early on Saturday morning was to get to the downtown Belk’s store on Fayetteville Street before noon. Sara worked at the Belk’s store on Saturdays but got off at lunch time. I would meet her at the store and we would spend the afternoon together.

A typical day was spent at the various parks downtown, at the museums, or around the Capitol. We were glad to be together and the fact that we could not go anywhere did not seem to matter. With little or no money, simple things were what brought us fun.

After she got off work we would get something to eat. If we were really hungry we would eat at the lunch counter at Eckerds or Grants. You could always get a filling meal for a very inexpensive price. Other times we went to a great pizzeria off one of the side streets from Fayetteville Street that had the best homemade pizza.

We spent a lot of time on the grounds of the old Capitol building walking and talking. When we got tired, there were plenty of benches to sit on. I remember once we were sitting on a bench in a secluded spot and kissing when all of a sudden one of the Capitol police walked up, cleared his throat and said, “Don’t get to carried away kids.”

We would also spend hours “window shopping” at various department stores in the downtown area daydreaming about the future. Sara worked in the little boys department of Belk. She would tell me that while she was folding the pants and shirts she would image she was folding her children’s clothes. It is kind of funny that several years later she was still folding little boys’ clothes, only these were for our boys.

When the weather was bad we would go to the movie theater on Salisbury Street. We would sit through the same movie two or three times in a row. When the original movie “Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory” came out we saw it at least three times that day. I knew the Umpa Lumpa song better than most of the popular songs of that day. This still is one of my favorite movies of all times and occasionally I find myself singing, “Oompa Loompa Doompadee Do, I’ve Got A Perfect Puzzle For You.”

Before it got too late in the evening I would ride the local bus with Sara and take her home to Mrs. Murray’s because there was an early curfew for the girls that lived there. Then it was either hurry back to the bus station to catch the last bus to Chapel Hill or find some place to sleep. More often than not I missed the last bus.

If I was lucky and had a few dollars in my pocket I could walk to the YMCA on Hillsborough Street and get a room for the night. On a couple of occasions I was able to get in contact with some of my friends who went to NC State and I would sleep on their dorm room floor. Both of these two options were good and I got a good night sleep.

There were several occasions when either I did not have money for a room or could not get in touch with my friends. On these occasions I had to make do. If the weather was real cold I would sleep in the bus station under the guise that I was waiting to catch the morning bus back to Chapel Hill. There were several times when the weather was warmer I slept outside, once in a baseball dugout on the NC State campus and twice under park benches. Life is an adventure and a lot of fun.

They say love is blind and it must be true. We had some great times during that period in Chapel Hill and Raleigh. Looking back I cannot remember it being cold or raining but only that we were together. The amazing fact is I asked Sara to marry me during that time and she said YES. As of this writing it has almost been 39 years and we are still having a great adventure and a lot of fun together.

This too was part of growing up in Aurora NC.

Growing Up In Aurora NC - Classes at Carolina

2011-03-30T10:58:00.000-04:00

When I think back to my time at the University of North Carolina in Chapel Hill it was not all fun and games. I actually did attend classes and as strange as it seems I even learned a few things. Of all the classes that I took while there a few stand out in my memories as exceptional and at times even fun.

One of the first things I noticed about college classes were they varied so much in size and teaching styles. In high school my class size ranged from twenty to thirty-five students per class. At UNC my classes range from twenty to six hundred and fifty students. My Political Science class had over six hundred students and met in a large auditorium. It was a true lecture class with no interaction between the professor and the students. If you had a question you had to meet with a TA (Graduate Student Teaching Assistant) after class. Tests were taken in the auditorium using the little flip desk top on each chair to write on and with TA’s walking the aisles looking for cheaters.

I took Chemistry in a large old lecture hall. There were approximately eighty desks arranged in a steep tiered semicircle with a small stage and large blackboards at the bottom. We had a little white haired professor who spoke very softly and with a thick German accent. It was a challenge to understand what he was saying, but I made it through the class and actually learned something although I can’t remember what it was now.

It is hard to believe today that out of the eighty students only one person had a hand held calculator and it was large, heavy and could not fit in your pocket. I asked him how much it cost and he told me it was over $1500. Now you can get one that is smaller and with more functions for under $10.

The rest of us used either a slide rule or you calculated everything out by hand. I used a slide rule in chemistry, calculus and physics. You also had to memorize the various formulas and functions you would need for the test. You learned how to use the different mathematical and scientific tables and charts to get the different conversion factors you needed. I remember spending long hours doing my homework churning out math formulas. When I think back I realize how much I like my calculator and computers I have today.

The final examination in my chemistry class was composed of one question and you had two hours to complete it. This test comprised 100% of your final grade. I can’t remember the exact question but you had to explain and define a specific chemical process in an essay format and then solve some variable using the parameters provided. I remember it taking me almost the full two hours to complete it and the results filling the entire test booklet. I was so amazed when I got my final grade of “B” and passed this class.

The chemistry lab for this course was just as hard and stressful as the main class. The lab was a separate class with a separate grade. The grade was based, again, on 100% of the final examination. For the exam you were given a sample for which you had to determine its’ chemical composition. I remember spending one entire afternoon in the lab running tests by hand on the sample. There were no spectrographs or other equipment; everything was done by titration, flame, weighing, and studying the color reaction/changes.

Once you got your results you went to the office where you were given a computer key punch card and you had to key punch your sample number, your results and your ID number into the card. This was given to the TA and they would later run it through a computer, about the size of a house, to check your results. Unbelievably I aced it.

Another science class I remember really liking was Zoology. I liked the class but hated the lab. When you entered the Zoology building all you could smell was formaldehyde. It always smelled but it got worse as the semester progressed. This I was soon to learn was because of the labs. In my lab each of us were given a fetal pig in a sealed container of formaldehyde to work on during the semester. Each week we would take our pig out of the container and dissect a certain assigned portion of it. After we finished that lab period we would return what was left of the pig to the container and put it away until our next lab class. Needless to say after several weeks of this the lab took on an unpleasant smell. Once you left the lab this smell remained with you the rest of the day.

My favorite class while I was at Carolina was Anthropology. It was in a large lecture hall with several hundred students. The professor would come in and lecture for the entire hour. His dress and mannerisms were the epitome of what you would expect of an anthropologist / archeologist, a cross between Indiana Jones and Alan Quartermain.

This was one class I never missed and his class was always full. This was because of his ability to keep you on the edge of your seat waiting for the next story he would tell. I remember one class on a warm day in the spring when all the windows and doors were open. In the middle of his lecture a dog walked in the auditorium and walked down to the stage and sat on the edge of the stage watching the professor. The professor never missed a beat but kept on talking and the dog sat there until the end of class. No one laughed or said a word and when the class was over the students got up to leave the dog got up and left also.

Another great thing about his class was you did not have to take notes; all you had to do was listen. The reason for this was he did not give tests. There were three things you had to do to get a grade in his class. The first was to show up and sign the roster each class period.

If you wanted a “B” in the class you had to read each chapter in the text book and write 10 questions for that chapter based on the chapter material. You did not have to answer the questions. He said he could tell if you read the chapter by the nature of the questions.

The third requirement was for getting an “A” in the class. You had to choose a subject from a list of subjects he provided and write a term paper on it. I was very happy with my B.

I had a lot of great classes while I attended UNC. When I think back there are good things to remember about all of them, even the classes I had trouble with, but we won’t talk about those.

This too was part of growing up in Aurora NC.

Growing Up In Aurora NC - Spring Flowers

2011-03-16T08:11:00.000-04:00

There is something magical about spring and the return of new life to the world of plants. Spring is a time for pruning, clearing and planting in gardens everywhere and it is no different for me and my little garden and yard.

Over the past three weekends I have pruned, raked, and dug up all of my flower beds. All this work was done to get ready for the new growth and new plantings which the warm temperatures of spring would bring. With the help of my 5 year old grandson, we have transformed the shrubs and flower beds into a photograph out of “Southern Gardens”. Yeah Right, well it does look a lot better.

It is only natural that I enjoy working in my spring flower beds so much. I have been doing it for more years than I care to remember. When I think back I had to work preparing flower beds for spring planting since I was a young child. Between Mom’s flower beds and Granny’s (Mom’s mom, Mary Foster) flower beds I spent most of my spring Saturdays working in the yard.

Mom was always very meticulous about her flowers and yard. Everything had to be done just right and meet her approval. Her basic routine would seldom vary and after a couple of years I began to know what, when and how to do it.

The first step was to remove all the old mulch, flowers and anything else left in the bed. She wanted to start fresh every year. After chopping the ground up with the hoe and raking it out we would mix in the several buckets of chicken manure she had me shovel out of Granddaddy’s chicken coop. This had to be mixed and chopped into the soil at just the right amount so it would not burn the plants and act as a natural fertilizer.

During the previous week Mom would go to a nursery she liked in Bridgeton and selected the perfect flower plants to be transplanted into her bed. Depending on the bed she would have marigolds, petunias, daisies, begonias and many other varieties. Each was arranged in a grouping to be sure the size and color of the group was emphasized. Each flower had to be spaced uniformly and laid out exactly as she wanted.

After we had all the flowers planted and watered it was off to the woods to rake up pine straw. Once again this was no simple task because Mom knew exactly what she wanted. It had to be fresh fallen straw with no other trash or plant material mixed in. We had certain pine tree woods we would always go to because we knew there was very little undergrowth and it was easier to lightly rake the fresh straw off the top. It is amazing how much straw it took to cover all of her flower beds.

Once we got the straw back to the house it had to be place just so in the beds. Once again it had to be uniform and even in every bed. It sounds simple but it takes time especially when I had to redo half the beds because I would just pile it around the plants.

It was a lot of work but the rewards always came a few weeks later when the yard was in full bloom. It truly would put some of the pictures in the gardening magazines to shame. Mom and Dad always had one of the prettiest yards in the area.

After the work was done I would breathe a sigh of relief until Mom would say, “you’re not done yet, next weekend you have to go to Granny’s house and help her do her flower bed.”

Granny was not as particular as Mom but she still wanted her flowers done a certain way and she had several very large beds. Again I would spend the day digging and cleaning out all the old growth from the previous season. I would then have to work up the beds and prepare the soil. When she thought it was right we would start planting.

One difference between Mom’s flowers beds and Granny’s is Granny liked to plant seeds and grow her flowers from scratch. She would mentally lay out her beds and tell me where and how to plant each packet of seeds. Her flowers would come out later in the summer and she always had a beautiful yard when her flowers were in full bloom.

Even though I complained about the work at the time I always enjoyed working with Mom and Granny in the gardens. Back then both would get down with me and help do the work. I especially remember Granny with her big straw hat tied under neck down on her knees digging and planting the seeds.

When I think back that is the way Granny was. Until she was physically, due to age, unable to work in her yard she did. She would work in tobacco every summer helping the different members of the family get their crops in until she just could not do it anymore. Granny was always a hard working woman.

I still love working in my yard and flower beds. There is something special about all of the hard work and effort you put into your garden and then being able to see the results. I love fresh flowers blooming in my yard. Whether it is a simple marigold or one of my hybrid tea roses there is a sense of accomplishment when you see them fully bloomed in all their glory.

It is fun working in the yard with my grandson and watching his eagerness to learn and participate. I hope I can have the same impact on his life by sharing the love of gardening that my Mom and Granny gave to me.

I never can quite match the beauty of their yards but I am going to keep trying and maybe someday I will.

This too was part of growing up in Aurora NC.

Growing Up In Aurora NC - Two Generations of Friends

2011-02-24T08:26:00.003-05:00

The other night I called Dad on the telephone. He was feeling down so I asked him what was wrong. He told me that Uncle Bill was moving to Alabama this week to live with his son and he had to tell him goodbye tomorrow. He then asked, “What if I never see him again?”

When Dad was growing up in the little community of Bonnerton, NC, which is outside of Aurora, there were three boys approximately the same age, Billy, Bill and Burton (Dad). They lived within 200 yards of each other and were the best of friends. Grandmomma would tell me stories of the three of them and some of their adventures that she knew about. She said they were always together when they were not working and doing chores.

She would tell me that during the summer she would find watermelons missing out of her small watermelon patch and knew they had stolen a melon and disappeared. She said usually when that happened they would be down by Durham Creek letting the watermelon cool in the creek while they went for a swim.

Thorough-out life they have remained close friends and continued to share in life’s adventures. Each of them got married, Billy to Dorothy, Bill to Abby, and Burton (Dad) to Mae (Mom) and it wasn’t long before they each had sons. Uncle Bill and Aunt Abby had a son, Mack. Mr. Billy and Mrs. Dorothy had a son, Billy. Burton and Mae had a son, Larry (Me). We were all born within a couple of years of each other and became great friends growing up.

When I was born Bill and Abby were named my godparents and this is why I have always called them Uncle Bill and Aunt Abby.

Growing up it seemed our families were always together especially on the weekends. During the summer, together, we would go to the river at Core Point or Jarvis Landing to swim and go boating. We would have cookouts and picnics together. We would make homemade ice cream. During the Christmas holidays we would visit each other’s homes and exchange presents. We all went to the same church, Edward Christian Church. Oh, there were a few little tiffs but the friendship of the three men never wavered.

Of the three sons Mack was the oldest and I remember how I looked up to him when I was young and thought he was “cool.” I always had fun with Mack. When I was young I remember going home with Mack and his family after church on Sunday and the two of us going to the Sunday afternoon matinee at the movie theater in Aurora. Yes, at one time there was a movie theater in Aurora. Usually the movie was either a Tarzan movie or a Jungle Jim movie. The Jungle Jim movies were always my favorite.

As we got older Mack liked Elvis and his parents would take us to see all the Elvis Presley movies. When Mack got his driver licenses he took me to see my first “R” rated movie, the James Bond movie “Thunderball” at the Turnage Theater in Washington, NC. Wow was that a hot movie.

Later when I got my driver’s license we would ride together to dances at the Minnesott Beach pavilion, the Shrine Club in New Bern or at the Armory in Washington, NC. These are just a few of the great adventures we had growing up.

Billy and Dorothy were the second of the trio to have a son, Billy. Growing up he became known as Little Billy and his dad was called Big Billy, but it was Mr. Billy to me (I was taught respect and manners by Mom). They lived directly across the street from us during a large part of my childhood and Little Billy and I were the “bestest” of friends.

Every chance we got we were playing together and having great adventures building forts out in the woods behind his house. Billy had a go-cart and we would take turns racing it around a track he had made in a field behind his house.

He had a basketball goal setup in his yard and we would play basketball with the neighborhood kids. The grass was worn away from all the play and there was a hollow spot left in the ground. We played on the junior varsity basketball team and on the football team at Aurora High School together and would have continued but he went away to Military Academy.

Mr. Billy and Mrs. Dorothy always welcomed me into their house and for a couple of summers I spent every Sunday afternoon with them at their cabin on Durham Creek. That was a time of great adventure for Little Billy and me as we explored the creek in their boat.

Unlike Dad, Mr. Billy and Uncle Bill; when Mack, Billy and I graduated from high school we could not wait to leave home. Mack now lives in Alabama, Billy lives in Tennessee and I live in Florida. We each went about our separate lives with little or no contact. I have seen Billy twice when he lived in Tampa Florida for a couple of years but that was in the late 1970’s and have since lost all contact with him.

I recently went to Alabama on business and met Mack and his wife Linda and we had a great visit. Now that I think about it, that was almost 10 years ago.

Dad, Mr. Billy and Uncle Bill have lived in the same area all their lives. They go to the same church and share a lot of the same interest. Now in their 80’s their friendship has endured the stress of time and various trails. Dad always tells me how Mr. Billy and Uncle Bill are doing when we talk.

One of the highpoints of my visits back to Aurora has been seeing them and feeling the love and caring that have shared with me all of my life. It is sad to know times and situations are changing but their friendship will always be no matter where they are.

Even though I do not get to see Mack and Little Billy I still consider them to be two my best friends. The times we shared together growing up and the influence of their parents on me are just another part of what makes me who I am. True friendship is truly forever.

This too is part of growing up in Aurora NC.

Growing Up in Aurora NC – The Rattlesnake and the Rabbit

2011-02-16T08:44:00.001-05:00

On the weekends that my 4 year old grandson stays with us it seems like I have a shadow attached to me. Every time I stop he is saying something like, “Papa, let’s work in the yard” or “Papa, let’s go to the store” or “Papa, let’s do this or that.” Then it is off we go on another adventure.

This weekend it hit me that he is a lot like I was when I was his age. From as early as I can remember, until I discovered girls, I loved being with my granddaddy. I was lucky that I got to spend a lot of time with him, having fun, learning and gaining wisdom from him. I especially remember riding around in his truck and talking.

Granddaddy was a very quiet man, like all of us Gray men, and did not talk much except when it was just him and I riding in the truck. He was always telling me something about the farm, the old days when he was a young man, nature and wildlife, and about life in general. It was always like show and tell story time when we were in the truck or working on the farm.

There was one event we shared together that stuck in my mind and I still smile and marvel at the wisdom of his explanation. I was around 8 years old and we were riding in his truck on what we called the Swamp Road going to the field we were working at. This was an old sandy dirt road which was typical of most roads in the area.

I was daydreaming as we rode along not really paying attention to anything when Granddaddy suddenly slammed on the brakes and came to a stop in the middle of the road. He then turned off the engine and just sat there. I looked at him questionably and he pointed at the road as he told me to be quiet and watch.

About twenty feet in front of the truck sat a huge rabbit with the biggest rattlesnake I have ever seen coiled loosely around it. The snake was coiled up in a strike position and they were staring at each other, eye to eye. Neither one was moving, not even a twitch.

I asked Granddaddy what they were doing, even though I knew that rabbit would soon be snake food. Granddaddy looked at me and said, “Watch, the rabbit is charming the snake.”

I chuckled and replied, “Don’t you mean the snake is charming the rabbit.”

“Just watch,” was all he replied.

We stayed there for what seemed like an eternity watching the drama of life and death play out before us. Even though I knew it was the way of life in nature I could not help but feel sorry for the poor rabbit. It was at this point I learned a valuable life lesson.

After waiting and watching the snake and the rabbit locked in a death stare, neither moving a muscle, the unbelievable happened. In the blink of an eye the rabbit leaped to its freedom and the snake was still sitting in its strike position staring at an empty place.

I remember the shock I felt as I asked Granddaddy what had just happened and him laughing at me and saying, “I told you the rabbit just charmed the snake.” He then proceeded to explain several life lessons to be learned from this.

The first lesson he taught me about the rattlesnake and the rabbit is never judge a book by its cover. It is very easy to judge your opponent or a problem as being overwhelming. Even though they form the backbone of our rating system, first impressions are not always the best.

The second lesson is running away from problems will not solve them. The rabbit had tried to run but in the end had found it was trapped and unable to run from its problem. It was at this point the rabbit realized it had to deal with its problem face to face in order to solve it. No longer could he ignore the issue, run from it or dance around the issue at hand.

The third lesson is to never give up. Even when all the odds are against you, you need to keep trying to overcome. The rabbit was obviously trapped in a no-win situation completely surrounded by its enemy, the snake. It did not let fear overcome its desire for life so it turned to the last resort effort of rearing up on its hind legs and staring its enemy in the eye, daring it to blink. If it had shown any fear it would have been killed.

Another lesson to learn is neither the strength of the snake nor the speed of the rabbit determined the outcome. Sometimes it takes finesse to solve an issue. In life we are taught that strength and money can solve most issues. When you get out into the real world you soon learn you have to use your intelligence and experience to overcome most situations.

The last point that Granddaddy made was, when the prize is at hand and you have your enemy where you want them, strike! Don’t sit back, waiting and mocking your opponent. How many times has a great victory been lost in history because the perceived victor hesitated and let its victim get away? Do not celebrate until the final whistle is blown.

After he finished explaining all this to me Granddaddy looked me in the eye and said, “The story is not over yet, come with me.” We then got out of the truck and he grabbed a shovel from the back and we killed that huge snake.

He then told me, “Never leave a live rattlesnake (problem) if you have the means to kill it.” With that he began to teach me about rattlesnakes, their fangs, and their rattles, but that’s another story for another time.

This too is part of growing up in Aurora NC.

Growing Up in Aurora NC – Poker, Panty Raids and Anti-War Marches

2011-02-09T11:11:00.000-05:00

What in the world could these three activities have in common? As I settled into the routine of dorm life at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill these became part of the unofficial schedule of events and entertainment. Each of these events shared a common connector which helped build friendships and enlightened my college experience.

There were five of us that lived next door to each other on the first floor of Graham Dorm. Since we did not partake of the “evil weed,” alcohol became the libation of choice. Beer was our favorite but we were each too poor to buy it on a regular basis, it was reserved for special occasions. Our fallback drink became wine, Boones Farm Strawberry Hill to be specific. Occasionally someone would buy a bottle of Apple and we would all scold him for not paying attention.

Every Friday night was poker night for any of us who were staying on campus for the weekend. We would meet in one of our rooms and set up a card table and play well into the night. Since we were all card sharks and big time wheeler dealers we had to set a bet limit to 1¢. If we didn’t the game would be over after a couple of hands.

One of the rules of play was the bottle rule. Once we started we would play until someone won enough hands that they were $1.oo ahead. At this point we would take a break from cards and walk up to the little convenience store located on Franklin Street and buy a bottle of Boones Farm which cost 99¢. We would return to the game and play until the next dollar was won.

This usually continued until one of three things occurred. First, everyone ran out of money. Since we were college students we had very little money and we were smart enough not to bring all we had to the table. This would typically occur around 1:00 AM.

The second game ending occurrence was the little store would close. This normally occurred at 1:00 AM. Allowing an additional hour to finish off that last bottle of Strawberry Hill we would wrap up the game by 2:00 AM.

The third reason to stop the game only occurred on rare occasions but it took a devastating toll on any plans you had for Saturday. It happened when the games were played too fast and $1.00 winners happen too often. This lead to a condition where no one was able to walk to the little store and no one else cared.

Ah, Friday night poker was fun.

Another periodic occurrence that would happen several times a semester was the infamous “panty raid.” Usually between 9:30 PM and 10:30 PM a loud clatter of noise would arise out on the quad. Guys from the other male dorms on the north campus would cross our quad of 5 male dorms yelling that immortal call to arms, “Panty Raid,” as they marched to Cobb Hall which was an all-female dorm in 1972. By the time they reached Cobb there would be close to 1,000 people in the group.

Whether it was Cobb Hall or one of the other female dorms of the north campus the event played out the same. Any preconceived ideas or anything you might have seen in a movie about panty raids you can forget about it.

As the crowd began to arrive at the girl’s dorm several campus police vehicles would drive up and park across the street. Usually three of the physically largest policemen would walk over and one would stand in front of each door. The one at the main entrance would knock on the door and tell the house mother to lock all the doors and first floor windows. The rest of the police would sit on their vehicles and watch the show.

The crowd of guys would gather across the front of the building and begin chanting “Panties, Panties.” I know it sounds corny, but no one said guys were smart when animal instincts took over. The girls would gather at the windows of the upper floors looking out and laughing. Every so often one would throw a pair of panties out the window and the crowd would go crazy. It was like a shark feeding frenzy. Looking back I realize this stage of the event was similar to chumming the water when you go fishing.

After the crowd was worked up by the occasional panty the girls would move to the next and most exciting part of the show. A girl would lean out of the window and dangle a pair of panties teasing the crowd and getting them to bunch up in a tight group. When the timing was just right the girl with the panties would suddenly pull back into the window very quickly. Before the group bunched up under her window could react 4 arms came out with a trashcan full of cold water which was dumped onto the group of guys standing directly below them.

This process was repeated several times until the crowd got bored and quietly dispersed.

All you could hear as we were leaving was the cat calls and laughing from the dorm and the laughing from the campus police.

As for me and my friends, we only had to see the bait and switch occur once. We were smart enough to stay in the back and avoid the soaking which was sure to come. We would stand there and laugh while we shared our bottle of Strawberry Hill, which one of us always had stashed.

The final activity was the anti-war marches of that time. In 1972 the Vietnam War was still going on and the anti-war sentiment was very strong on college campuses across the country and UNC was no exception. By the spring of 1972 the lottery for the draft had occurred and with my draft number I knew I did not have to worry about it. In many ways I was very apathetic about the war and to be honest viewed the opportunity to march as another fun thing to do. And, as I look back most of the crowd felt the same way.

There were two big opportunities I had to participate in anti-war demonstrations that spring. The first was a big demonstration to be held in Washington, DC. The activist had put up flyers around campus about the Washington march and how UNC organizers were going to charter buses to take students to DC to participate. For $50.oo you got a bus ride and chance to see the nation’s capital, which I had never been to. This was a great opportunity.

I went back to the dorm and called Dad and asked him if he could put $50.oo into my account. I explained I had an opportunity to take a bus excursion to Washington DC and see the sights. He thought for that price this sounded like a great opportunity to learn about the nation’s capital. He told me he would get the money together and let me know when it was in my account.

I am not sure how but he found out this was a trip to Washington to demonstrate against the war. When he called me back there was no misunderstanding of what he now thought of the trip. He proceeded to let me know that if I went on that trip he would pull me out of school so fast I would not know what hit me. Needless to say I did not get the money nor did I get to go to Washington.

I did later get to participate in a large demonstration held on the campus. On that particular day my friends and I were out sunning in the quad when we heard and saw a large crowd of people marching by on Raleigh Street. We decided this looked like fun and followed the group, after we grabbed a couple of bottles of Strawberry Hill. We marched up Raleigh Street, then down Franklin Street and back south on Columbia St. During the entire trip and as we assembled on the quad in front of South Building there was a constant chant of “1, 2, 3, 4 we don’t want your F---ing War.”

After the march and while everyone was standing in front of South Building one speaker after another got up in front of the crowd and ranted about the war. The true activist stood in front and cheered them on.

To the rest of us it was just another party. It wasn't long before this cloud of “funny” smelling smoke began to fill the air and the party began. As for me and my friends out came the Boones Farm and we joined in.

As you have probably figured out Boones Farm played an integral part in making each of these events a memorable college experience.

This too was part of growing up in Aurora NC.

Growing Up in Aurora NC – The Lottery

2011-02-04T10:44:00.000-05:00

By February 2, 1972 I was into the routine of being a 2nd semester freshman at the University of North Carolina. That particular Wednesday was no different than any other day. I got up, showered, dressed and headed off to classes, which started at eight that morning. It was cold and rainy but there was nothing else to indicate this day would be any different than any other day.

That afternoon when I got back to Graham Dorm the first thing I noticed was everyone standing around in the halls talking. As soon as I walked in a couple of my friends came over and asked me, “Have they drawn your number yet?” I remember replying, “Number, what number?” When I was at UNC we did not have television sets in our rooms and I seldom listen to the radio, except for music, so I had very little information and no idea what was going on in the world. Lonnie, my next door neighbor, laugh and replied, “Your draft number you big DA. They are drawing the draft numbers now.”

The Vietnam War was in full swing and one of the rites of passage every male had to do when they turned 18 years old was to register with the Selective Service Board and be available to be drafted into military service if needed. In 1969 the method of selection was change to a lottery drawing and the first was held on December 1, 1969.

In a large glass container 365 (366 in a leap year) blue capsules, each containing a birth date, were mixed up and randomly drawn by hand and assigned an “order-of-call” number. The first date drawn was assigned the number one and so on until all 365 number and dates were matched.

The lottery drawing held on February 2, 1972 was for all men born in the year 1953 and would be used to determine the order they would be called to report to a military induction center during the year of 1973. The first date drawn that year was March 6 and it was assigned the number one. The second date was March 7 and the third date was August 3.

The entire lottery was covered by radio, film, and had TV coverage. As each capsule was pulled and opened, the dates were posted in order. It was a long slow process closely monitored by the media and political officials to insure it was totally random.

The lower your number the more likely you were to be drafted. The call-up during the previous lottery years had reached between 95 and 195. If you had a low number you would soon be wading in rice paddies in Vietnam.

Once I heard the lottery was taking place panic set in and all I could see was my big butt standing waste deep in a rice paddy being shot at. There was never a thought about not going and running to Canada as some did, I knew if my number was low I would serve. As I calmed down I remembered my plan. By 1972 there were no deferments for college students so if I had a low number I would withdraw from school and enlist in either the Navy or the Air Force. I was determined I was not going to trudge around the jungle.

Lonnie said they were posting the numbers, as they were called out over the radio, on a big board that was set up in the Student Union building. I tried to walk away and remain cool and calm but I found myself running as fast as I could to the Student Union. All I could think about was the worst possible scenarios.

Once I got to the Student Union I saw they had one wall set up as a matrix with the months across the top and the days of the month down the side. In each corresponding block they had written in the draft number for that date. By the time I got there the lottery was over and all the blocks were filled in.

I was so nervous at first I could not find my birth date and its corresponding square. Finally I located it and shouted with joy, April 24th had drawn the number 362. By my calculations before the time the government called my number the ICBMs would have landed and all of us would be dancing on streets of gold in Heaven.

For a lot of us, and luckily all of my friends, that night turned into a party. We were up all night drinking and celebrating. For others it was not a night to party. Over the next several weeks we learned that several of our dorm mates had withdrawn from school and enlisted.

According to the History and Records of the Selective Service System the last lottery drawing was held on March 12, 1975. The last draft call was on December 7, 1972 thus none of the numbers drawn on February 2, 1972 were actually called up.

This too was part of growing up in Aurora, NC.

Results for Men Facing the Draft in 1973
Lottery Numbers, by Birth Date, for Selective Service Lottery Held February 2, 1972

This determined the order in which men born in 1953 were called to report for induction into the military
Jan Feb Mar Apr May Jun Jul Aug Sep Oct Nov Dec
1 150 112 203 012 058 015 039 323 219 215 107 170
2 328 278 322 108 275 360 297 027 017 128 214 090
3 042 054 220 104 166 245 109 003 226 103 232 056
4 028 068 047 280 172 207 092 313 356 079 339 250
5 338 096 266 254 292 230 139 063 354 086 223 031
6 036 271 001 088 337 087 132 208 173 041 211 336
7 111 154 002 163 145 251 285 057 144 129 299 267
8 206 347 153 050 201 282 355 131 097 157 312 210
9 197 136 321 234 276 083 179 007 364 116 151 120
10 037 361 331 272 100 178 089 249 217 342 257 073
11 174 026 239 350 307 064 202 125 334 319 159 082
12 126 195 044 023 115 190 340 198 043 171 066 085
13 298 263 244 169 049 318 306 329 229 269 124 335
14 341 348 117 081 224 095 305 205 353 014 237 038
15 221 308 152 343 165 016 359 241 235 277 176 137
16 309 227 094 119 101 032 074 019 225 059 209 187
17 231 046 363 183 273 091 199 008 189 177 284 294
18 072 011 357 242 098 238 121 113 289 192 160 013
19 303 127 358 158 148 052 332 105 228 167 270 168
20 161 106 262 314 274 077 033 162 141 352 301 149
21 099 316 300 004 310 315 005 030 123 288 287 080
22 259 020 317 264 333 146 286 140 268 191 102 188
23 258 247 022 279 216 212 365 302 296 193 320 252
24 062 261 071 362 246 061 324 138 236 256 180 155
25 243 260 065 255 122 143 035 290 291 009 025 006
26 311 051 024 233 118 345 204 076 029 078 344 351
27 110 186 181 265 293 330 060 034 248 325 135 194
28 304 295 045 055 018 053 185 040 070 327 130 156
29 283 --- 021 093 133 075 222 084 196 349 147 175
30 114 --- 213 069 048 142 200 182 184 346 134 281
31 240 --- 326 --- 067 --- 253 218 --- 010 --- 164

Source: Selective Service System

Growing Up in Aurora NC – Carolina Orientation

2011-01-28T08:59:00.000-05:00

As I sit here remembering my first few days at the University of North Carolina and freshman orientation there where a few events that stuck out. Part of the orientation was taking placement test to help determine what level of classes you needed to begin at. I was required to take three tests, one in French language, a calculus placement test in math and the other was a mandatory swimming test for all freshmen.

The first test I had to take was the French language placement test. How bad could this be? In order to get into Carolina you were required to have taken 4 semesters of high school French and I had passed each semester with A’s and B’s. This should be easy.

I walked into a large classroom with about 100 other students waiting to take the test. Several grad-students came in and told us not to open the test booklets they were passing out until they told us to as this was a “timed” test. After they finished passing out the test booklets they told us to begin and I remember opening the book and thinking, “What the hell is this?” There was not one word in that test book in English. The directions were in French, the questions were in French and I was completely lost.

I looked around and everyone was writing like crazy and smiling. To be honest there were a few others like me who had this look of total despair on their faces. Somehow I stumbled through the test picking up a few words and phrases here and there so I did answer a few of the questions.

Needless to say I failed the test and was placed in French I. I spent the next 3 months struggling through French class and a French lab only to fail French I in the end. Luckily after I was married and went back to college I graduated from college in Florida which unlike North Carolina did not require 4 semesters of college level foreign language to graduate. I have enough trouble with the English language much less trying to learn another language.

The next placement test I had to take was math. I had taken all the college prep math classes they had offered at Aurora High School and again passed with A’s and B’s. Since I was going to major in Astrophysics calculus was the logical math for me to start with. One of the prerequisite was to either pass the calculus placement test or take pre-calculus. No sweat, this was in the bag. Well needless to say I had to take pre-calculus class but that was alright as I learned I did not know as much as I thought I did in math.

The last placement test I had to take was a swimming test. UNC had a policy that anyone who could not pass their swimming test had to take a one semester class to learn how to swim. So it was off to Woolen Gym and the pools. The grad students gathered everyone around and told us we had to swim to the end of the pool and back nonstop and use 4 different swim strokes during the test and complete it within a time limit.

This was going to be easy as I had grown up in and around the water all my life. So what if this was the first time I had ever been in a swimming pool. The only difference I could see in swimming in the black water creeks and ponds I was use too and swimming in this cement pond was the clarity of the water. This was going to be no different than diving off Sinclair Dock or the old railroad bridge foundation at Royal.

My turn finally arrived and when the whistle was blown off I went using a Larry Gray modified standard swim stroke. Halfway to the other end I seamlessly switched to a Larry Gray modified back stroke. It was at this point I begin to realize how long this pool was.

I finally made it to the other end and started back using a Larry Gray modified frog leg butterfly breast stroke. By the midpoint of the return trip I was struggling to keep going and in last place of my group. It was time to bring out my secret fourth swim stroke to bring the test home. So with the last of my energy I began using my championship dog paddle and took it to the finish line.

Since I was the last one to make it back to the finish line it seemed everyone was standing there watching and laughing at me as I climbed out of the water. The grad student who was timing my swim looked at me and fought back the laughter. I remember him saying, “Well, I guess you did use 4 swim strokes and you did barely finish in the time limit so I guess I will have to pass you.” With this said he signed my waiver and I headed to the locker room.

It may not have been graceful but I passed and that was the only object of the test. This also taught me another life lesson about being out in the “real world”: “It is not how you play the game that matters but, whether you win or lose that counts.”

This too was part of growing up in Aurora NC.

Growing Up in Aurora NC – Going to Carolina

2011-01-19T09:35:00.000-05:00

From as early as I can remember I always dreamed of going to the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill after high school. When it came time to apply this was the first application I filled out and put in the mail. I applied to several other schools and was accepted by them but they were only backups, thus never really considered. I waited every day for the mail, waiting on that special letter. When the acceptance letter finally arrived I wanted to shout and celebrate. I was going to Carolina.

As the time approached I received lots of information on what to expect and what I needed to do. There were maps of the campus and schedules for the freshman orientation, which was the first 3 days before classes began. It all seemed so simple when it was on paper.

I would have no trouble conquering this new world because I was Larry Gray, Big Man on Campus (at least in my own mind). Keep in mind I came from a high school with only 87 people in my graduating class located in a town of approximately 540 people. I attended 12 years of school in the same building and knew all the teachers and students. So as you can see I was socially ready for going away to college. It would be no problem going to a slightly bigger school.

As freshman orientation approached fate decided to intervene and initiate an attitude adjustment. Three days before I was to leave for Carolina I seriously sprained my ankle and would have to be on crutches for three weeks. I was determined not to let this slow me down. Anyway on the map the campus did not look that big.

The big day finally arrived. Mom, Dad and I loaded everything into the car and set off to Chapel Hill. On the way we stopped by Raleigh and picked up Sara, my high sweet heart and future wife, for moral support and I wanted her to see where I was staying. I was very excited to finally see the school as I had never been to Chapel Hill before and only looked at the maps and photos in the catalog and orientation packets. We followed the map and went straight to Graham Dorm. Once there I checked in and verified the room assignment (room #101), got my room key and a copy of the rules. After a brief dorm orientation I finally got to see my room which consisted of two small beds, two small table/desks with chairs, two small dresser, two small closets, no air conditioner and a steam radiator for heat. We quickly unloaded my few things and put them in the room. It was a good thing I did not have a lot of stuff. When my roommate arrived the next day we had a full house.

By this time it was getting late in the afternoon and Dad wanted to get on the road so it was time for good byes. I stood at the top of stairs overlooking the parking lot with my crutches and watched them pull away. Sara later told me I looked so pitiful as they drove away and Mom cried all the way to Raleigh where Dad dropped Sara off at home. But, in reality at this point all I thought was “freedom.”

After they left and I had put some of my stuff away I decided it was time for me to go out and explore my new world. With my trusty map in hand I headed out on my crutches to tour the campus. It did not take long before I came to the realization I was no longer in Aurora. The maps and the pictures I had gave me no indication of just how big this campus was. In size alone it was almost as large as the entire town of Aurora. It was not long before I was worn out and trying to find my way back to my dorm. This was not going like I had imagined.

When I scheduled my first semester of classes I did not take the size of the campus and location of classrooms into consideration. As fate would have it most of my classes were scheduled back to back on opposite ends of the campus. When I had back to back classes there was no waiting around because I barely had enough time to make it to the next class and crutches did not help for the first few weeks. When it came time to schedule my next semester I tried to plan my days out better.

The next morning we had our first orientation meeting. We were in a large auditorium and had to listen to speeches and pep talks from one college official after another. It was not long before a lot of the students were nodding off. There was only one person who spoke that morning that I remember what he said. It went something like this, “Now you have heard all the positives about how great college is and how much we care about your success. I am here to tell y0u the truth. You are nothing but freshman and most of you will not be back next year. We don’t care whether you go to class, study, pass or fail your classes. You are adults and we are not going to hold your hand. Your mommy and daddy have paid your tuition, and your room and board for the semester so you have a place to stay. If you do not participate and fail your classes you will be kicked out and you will have to explain to your parents why. Let’s all go out and have a successful semester.”

I spent the rest of the day running from one orientation process to another. Everywhere I went I had to stand in a long line and wait. From standing in line to get my mailbox assignment and key to standing in line to verify classes which led to several other lines because half of my classes were closed out. That afternoon was topped off by sticker shock at the bookstore, seeing the prices and quantity of required books for the semester. Then to top it off carrying all of the books back to the dorm while on crutches.
It was at this moment that the reality of going to UNC hit home. It was up to me if I passed or failed, got out of bed each morning, studied at night or partied all night. The choice was mine. I remember the words “We don’t care” ringing through my head and the shock of being alone for the first time in my life. I was no longer the self-imagined “big fish in a small pond” but now I was, in reality, a “small fish in a very big pond.” This feeling lasted until I got back to my dorm room and the boys across the hall invited me in, they had several six-packs of beer iced down.

This too was part of growing up in Aurora NC.

Growing Up in Aurora NC – The Perfect Tree

2010-12-14T09:19:00.000-05:00

Yesterday we completed that great tradition of finding the perfect tree and putting it up in the house. It was a wild adventure going out into the garage and finding the box that contained the tree and dragging it to the house. Putting it together and ensuring every limb and branch was in its proper place is a time consuming task. Then it is time to plug in each section of lights, which are built into the tree, and crossing your fingers they all still shine. After all this strenuous work it is time for me to sit back and watch everyone else decorate the tree.

This is a lot different from the way we would get our tree when I was a young boy. Christmas was a magical time of the year to me and every aspect just increased the excitement. For me the official start of the Christmas season was when the mailman delivered the Christmas Catalog. Now the dreaming and planning could begin. Within a few days I would have that book memorized with every toy reviewed and cataloged. Santa’s list was started and all it needed was fine tuning as I forced myself to mark items off.

The next big event of the Christmas season was the Thanksgiving holiday. Yes, this was a separate holiday for the family to get together and over-eat all the great food we would have because there is one thing the Grays could and can do is cook great food and desserts. Yet to me the real purpose of Thanksgiving was to usher in Christmas with the parades on television. The parades with all the bands, floats and balloons were nice but the main attraction came at the end when Santa Claus came to town. This was the only reason I watched the parade so I could see Santa. The funny thing is every year I still watch the parade on Thanksgiving morning and get excited when Santa finally arrives.

Finally the time came to put up the Christmas tree. When I was young we did not have a Christmas tree lot on every corner and the small grocery stores did not sell them like they do now. If you wanted a tree you had to cut your own. There were two main sources for trees, go out in the woods to find and cut one or go to a local grower and cut your own. I don’t ever remember going out into the woods and getting a tree but there are three places I do remember getting our tree from.

One of the first places I remember was in the community of Small where we would go and cut our Christmas tree. There was a field of trees owned by a Mr. Price that was located off one of the back roads. I remember walking around looking at all the trees trying to find the straightest and best shaped tree he had. Once we found it Dad would take his hatchet and cut it down. We would drag it to the road and tie it into the trunk of the car.

Another place I remember going several Christmas’ to get our tree was also in Small. It was from field of Christmas trees owned by Aunt Hannah. I can still remember there was always a problem going there to get our tree, Dad and Mom would visit with her for what seemed like hours. They would tell Mark, my brother, and I to play out in the front yard and to be good while they went inside and sat with Aunt Hannah. As a young boy I thought they needed to get their priorities in order. We were here to get a Christmas tree not to visit. They would finally come out and we would go across the road and down a little path back into the woods to where the trees were growing. There the search for the perfect tree would begin again as we scoured the field.

There was one other place I remember going to get a tree outside of the community of Campbell’s Creek. This was the last tree I remember having that was fresh cut by Dad. After this we would buy our trees each year from the Piggly Wiggly grocery store.

The real work began once Dad got the tree home. He would lay it out in the yard and saw the trunk off to get it level. Once he had done this he would put it in the tree stand and set it upright to check if it was level. I can remember on more than one occasion Dad having to take the tree back down and re-saw it to get it level. Mom was very particular about her tree and you did not have a crooked tree in her house.

Now the fun part started with transforming a plain evergreen tree into a magical Christmas tree. Dad would string the lights on the tree with Mom giving him directions to insure they were all appropriately spaced. Then we hung the blubs and other decorations. Finally the tree was covered in icicles that were hand placed and not thrown on the tree like I would do. I remember thinking our tree was always the most beautiful tree of all the trees I would see.

Dad and Mom always tried to make Christmas an extra special time of the year for us kids. Now that I am grown I know that at times it was difficult but even in the “lean” years I only remember the magic of Christmas. My wife and I have always tried to do the same for our children and grandchildren even though sometimes it was hard. But, in a child’s eyes Christmas is magical and special and the material aspects are not what are remembered when they look back. It is the love and sense of family that are the lasting memories from Christmas’ past. This year the excitement in my grandson’s voice and the sparkle in his eyes while we put up the tree have brought back a flood of memories of the magic of Christmas and the fun of the simple pleasures of being with family, which I hope I never lose sight of.

This too was a part of growing up in Aurora NC.

Growing Up in Aurora NC – Date Night II - Parking Spots

2010-11-12T17:59:00.000-05:00

Saturday night was always fun when I was in high school and most Saturday nights I would have date. It usually involved going to a movie and getting something to eat either in Washington or New Bern. It was the time after the movie was over that was always the most challenging. If you were with someone you like it often involved “parking.” Whether it was watching the submarine races off Cayton’s Landing or looking for the “West Road Light” it took planning.

The movie was usually over by 9:30 and allowing 30 to 40 minutes to eat a burger and fries at Hardees it was still too early to go home. If you and your date were having fun you would want to spend more time together. Depending on the date you would have a couple of pre-plan parking spots to go so you could be alone to talk and whatever.

Selection of the ideal parking spot took planning which started earlier in the week. There were several critical factors to consider when choosing a perfect parking spot that could not be left to chance. One of the first considerations was the nature of the date, were you going to the movies with a friend or were you actually on a date with a “girlfriend.” If you were just going to movies and hanging out you may choose going someplace like the West Road or Cayton’s landing, which was uninhabited back then. If it was a serious relationship you would choose a place that was more private, your special place.

Security and safety was another consideration in choosing a spot. Yes, I did think of this. There were areas, even out in the country, you did not want to be whether it was for real safety or just nosey neighbors.

Another important point was accessibility. A lot of the little farm paths and logging roads I might choose were in disrepair. You needed to check them out in the daylight to insure it was safe to pull off the road on them so you would not get your car stuck. I have heard tales of friends having to call someone to pull them out of a deep mud hole.

I would usually spend time riding around my predetermined spots prior to date night to verify they were still safe and accessible. The last thing I wanted to do was explain to a girl’s parents that I brought her home late because I got stuck while parking with their daughter in the woods.

I would check out several spots that were located off the main roads from Washington and New Bern. Depending on which town we went to and where the girl lived I would have a couple of spots pre-approved prior to the date.

My favorite spot for all occasions was by Linwood Cayton’s tobacco barns located off Mary’s Chapel Road by the railroad tracks near Edward. This was the ideal parking spot, whether you were just sitting and talking or “making out” like crazy. It was always accessible; you never had to worry about getting stuck. It was open and not as dark as when you parked along a logging trail. It was far enough off the road you had all the privacy you could want. The only time of the year I could not park there was July and August during tobacco season as I did not want Mr. Cayton catching me when he checked his barns at night.

Another spot that I mention before was Cayton’s Landing. Back in the late 1960’s and early 1970’s no one lived around the area and it was a popular swimming hole during the day. This was the type of parking spot you would go to if you were mainly looking for area to sit, talk and enjoy each other’s company. Sometimes you would be alone and other times there may be one or two other cars there. You could safely park and watch the “submarine races” on or under South Creek.

A popular spot to go for a more casual time was the West Road. There were several little farm paths you could pull into along the road. This area was open farm land and offered little privacy, especially because it was so popular. The draw to the West Road was to look for the “Light” which would appear occasionally and drift along the road and fields for a short time. Most people thought it was “swamp gas” but we believed the old legends were true. It was said a long time ago a big man was hung from an old tree along the road. He fell so hard it snapped his head off when the rope went tight. Now he wanders around on moonless nights with his lantern looking for his head. No wonder this was a popular spot.

For a more private setting there were several farm roads and barns off Sparrow Road which offered a quiet spot and were easy to get to. In addition there were numerous logging roads located around the area which were out of the way and very private. My favorite logging roads were located along the Tunstall Swamp Road and off the Tuten Road. If you thought you were going to a logging road you needed to check them out the day of the date as they could be very muddy and have deep ruts. These usually were a last resort.

Often on Saturday or Sunday afternoon I would go riding with my favorite girl and we would want a place to go to spend some quality time together. There were several spots I had found that were suitable afternoon parking spots. There was an old farm path off Creedmur Road, which no longer exist, that lead to an abandon barn setting beside South Creek which was very quiet and private. I even had a couple of deer walk up on us at this spot.

Another great spot was along Durham’s Creek under a stand of old oak trees at Shell Landing. At both of these spots you could take a blanket and spend hours watching and listening to the creek and never be disturbed.

Most girls do not realize the careful thoughtfulness and planning that would go into a date. Not only did you have to wash and clean the car, select a suitable movie or other venue, spend hours selecting and ironing your clothes, personal prep time, but you also had to select and check out the perfect parking spot along with several contingencies. Dating was a lot of fun back in high school and growing up in the country made it all that much better, but I am glad has past.

This too was part of growing up in Aurora NC.

Growing Up In Aurora NC - Fall

2010-10-26T09:48:00.000-04:00

Fall has always been my favorite time of the year. When the weather begins to turn a little cooler and the leaves begin to change thoughts of the warmth of home and memories of good times come flooding back.

I was one of those strange kids who couldn’t wait for school to start. The excitement of having a new teacher and seeing all of my old friends was always something I looked forward too. During the Fall the school year was fresh and there were plenty of activities going on to keep you busy.

Prior to the late 1960’s Aurora High School (grades 1 – 12) always had a Fall festival which included several activities. Each class would prepare a short skit or musical number to perform during an evening show held in the school auditorium for our parents and guest. I remember one year my class sang “You Are My Sunshine” and on another year I played Abe Lincoln in a skit. After the skits and songs were done they would give awards to the classes with the best performance and announce the elementary and the high school Fall Festival King and Queen. You won by collecting the most pennies for some cause, I can’t remember which. I actually won one year when I was in the 4th grade.

On Friday or Saturday night the actual festival was held in the gymnasium. There would be displays, events and games set up by the various classes, school clubs and local churches and civic organizations. As a young boy I thought this was so exciting and a lot of fun. I remember one year they had a kissing booth and the teenage boys were lined up across the gym waiting their turn, I was told I was too young. There were cake walks, bake sales and all kinds of treats to eat.

Halloween was another fun time in the Fall. As a young boy Momma always made it special. She would make our costumes from whatever she could find. One year I was a ghost with an old white sheet for a costume and another year she dressed me up as an old raggedy hobo complete with a shoe polish beard. While I lived in Edward there were only a few small children to trick or treat and I would usually walk around with Al, Billy and Hank, but it seemed every house had lots of candy to give out and we loaded up.

After I moved to Aurora, in junior high, trick or treat took on a new form. Most of my friends and I went to Methodist Youth Fellowship (MYF) and on Halloween we would always go trick or treating for UNICEF. We would have our little UNICEF box and go out in groups of 2 or 3 and blanket the town. There was always a little competition to see who could collect the most money. When we got back to church there would be plenty of goodies to eat so we still got our sugar fix.

When I was young the Fall and the change in temperature meant the snakes would go away and I could play in the woods. Growing up in a rural area gave me the opportunity to have a lot of great adventures deep in the woods with my wild imagination. As I grew older the adventures turned to hunting once I got my first real gun. The squirrels had met their match.

The Fall also meant football and games. From backyard games of tag football to the high school team everyone seemed to love football. Backyard games were especially fun when played at night and were co-ed. All the neighborhood kids would get together and we would play in the Broom’s front yard. Even though it was tag poor Sara got tackled by me whether she had the ball or not.

High school football was always exciting especially the Homecoming game. During that week we felt like we were “big men on campus” even more than normal. On Thursday night we would have the big pep rally and bonfire. The school Principal would complain that the pile was too big and inevitably someone would put too much lighter fuel on it but it was fun to see how big we could make the fire. After all the cheering and talks the next night would bring on the big game. It was so embarrassing to lose the Homecoming game, but we managed to do just that several times.

All of this was fun but my favorite thing about Fall was the hay rides. During October and November we were always having hay rides mostly through MYF. There may have been other adults, but the person I remember doing the most was Big Boy Allen. He loved to load the back of his 10 wheel truck with hay and haul us kids all over the county.

Often he would drive to Washington, which was 30 miles away, and we would go to Hardee’s for a snack and then back to Aurora. A couple of times he would take the long way to Washington and we would go across the ferry to the north side of the river and drive to Washington.

I remember one Halloween we had a hay ride tour of ghost houses. We rode around on old back roads and stopped at old abandon houses most of which were falling down. There was one we had to walk back into the woods on an overgrown path to get to. It is amazing none of us stepped on an old rusty nail or fell through the floor of that old house.

But the most fun about hay rides was the long trip back to Aurora. On the way out of town everyone was laughing and talking together and having a lot of fun. But once you started back the “couples” began to disappear under the hay and their blankets. On those cold fall nights there was nothing like a big pile of hay, a cozy blanket and a warm body to break the chill. Come to think of it, it was on a hay ride in the 9th grade that I first kissed Sara and one of us was smitten whether they admit it or not.

I still like Fall and on cool nights I can think of nothing better than get cozy under a blanket with Sara and try to steal a kiss.

This too was part of growing up In Aurora NC.

Growing Up in Aurora NC – Grandmomma

2010-10-08T09:51:00.001-04:00

While watching television the other night with Sara and our grandson Joshua I couldn’t help but notice the interaction between him and her. There is a special bond between a child and their grandmother that can provide the child with peace and security that even the most loving parents cannot understand. I can remember setting in my grandmomma’s lap and feeling the warmth and love that made me feel like I was someone special and all was safe in the world.

Grandmomma was born on July 8, 1908 in Aurora, NC and named Kathleen Elizabeth Moore. Her parents were Edward Stanley Moore (1861-1940) and Ella Gertrude Wilson Moore (1878-1952). She had one sister Ethel Moore who married Jim Overton and lived in Campbells Creek NC and a brother Toby Moore who lived in Beaufort, NC. After she finished her formal education she taught school in Core Point, NC.

It wasn’t long before she met Willie Burton Gray and their relationship began to blossom. She told me how Granddaddy would ride from Bonnerton to Core Point, where she was staying and teaching, on his horse and buggy to see her. When he would “come a courting” they would set on the front porch and talk for hours. This is amazing to me because I cannot remember Granddaddy ever talking a lot, much less for hours.

They quickly fell in love and were married on May 2, 1926. After they were married Granddaddy’s dad, Michael Meager Gray, gave them land in Bonnerton and Grandmomma’s dad built a house on it for them. The house is still standing to this day in Bonnerton, albeit abandon. Even though it is sad to see it falling apart all I can think about is the fun I had and the love I felt in that house.

They attended and were members of Edward Christian Church and Grandmomma taught Sunday school to the adults. Each year she would get a book which had the lessons and plans for each Sunday for the entire year. I have all her annual books from the 1940’s to the 1960’s with her handwritten notes scribbled in the margins. It is neat to read her notes and insights on the lessons.

I can still remember sitting in her lap as a small child in the evenings and having her read to me and tell me stories. One of the things she would tell me over and over was “No matter what, you always got your name, so protect it.” This little piece of advice has stuck with me and the older I get the importance of having a good reputation has become clearer to me in this world we live in.

On other nights while I was playing on the floor I can still see her netting dollies, crocheting Afghans or hand sewing patches together to make a quilt. At other times she would read or work on her upcoming Sunday school lesson. There was no TV except for a couple of hours on Sunday night. This was the time of day to relax.

I would always insist on sleeping with her when I was young and spent the night. I can still remember the smell of her “dusting powder” and the warmth on a cold winter’s night. She had a reading light attached to her bed and I would fall asleep while she read. This was easy as Granddaddy and her had separate rooms. No Joshua; I am not moving out.

Often we would set on the porch where it was a little cooler, there was no air conditioner. During the time of year that the garden was ready this time would be spent shelling peas and snapping beans. Even Granddaddy would have to help with this chore. Grandmomma’s half acre garden would produce an abundant yield most years.

She was very particular about her garden. She strictly planted by the Farmers’ Almanac and the phases of the moon. You never saw a weed growing in it because she was out in it every day. She would not let Granddaddy use a tractor in it and insisted that he hire the “colored man” down the road to bring his mule and plow to work in her garden. I have carried a lot of buckets of chicken manure from the hen house to the garden for her to use as fertilizer. I remember once she needed to add lime to the soil and she made Granddaddy go to the oyster house that was located at the very east end of Main Street in Aurora and get crushed oyster shells to use. All her peculiarities about her garden must have worked because she always grew enough to last them year round. Her homemade canned vegetables were the best.

Grandmomma, like a lot of the women of her era, knew how to do with less and make things from nothing. I remember her setting on the back porch resting and darning Granddaddy’s socks, no hole in the heel or toe was going to ruin a perfectly good pair of socks. She had an old peddle driven Singer sewing machine that she used but mostly she sewed by hand. If she needed a new pillow for the bed she would get a new flour sack, recently emptied and washed, to use as ticking and go out into the barn where there was an old mattress to get feathers to stuff her new pillow. Nothing was wasted.

Grandmomma raised lots of chickens. She always had enough eggs for them, our family and plenty left over for her to take to Mrs. Edna’s store to trade (barter) for staples they could not grow. She knew her chickens and their laying habits and if one started slacking off it would likely end up on the kitchen table as the guest of honor for supper. Grandmomma would tell Granddaddy which hen she wanted and he would catch it and take it to the chopping block and chop it’s head off, then throw it out in the yard. Remember the old saying, “running around like a chicken with it’s head cut off.” Well this is where it comes from especially when they were killing and cleaning/dressing several chickens at one time.

She would use every opportunity as a teaching moment even dressing out chickens. I learned about the parts and organs of the body through cleaning chickens. She would show me each organ and explain a little of what it did. She would point out the eggs in various stages of development. To a small boy this was the most amazing way to learn.

Each year in the spring Granddaddy and Grandmomma would go to Washington and buy more baby chicks. They would bring them back and put them in a special coop they set up in the wash shed so the chicks could grow until they were large enough to let out. On cold nights they would light Kerosene lanterns and place them under the coop to keep it warm. Once the chicks grew large enough they would move them to a separate fenced area in the chicken yard to keep them safe from the other chickens. By the end of the summer they were big enough to let out into the chicken yard and lot. Ah, there would be lots of eggs and fried chicken for me.

Not only were there fresh chickens but they also raise hogs for food. Once a year there would be a hog killing, at which time several hogs were killed and dressed out. Unlike chickens this was a big event and required a lot of help. All I remember about it was it was hard work for everyone, it stunk and almost nothing on the hog was wasted. They would clean, cut, grind, chop and stuff all day. When they finished the meat and sausage went into the smokehouse to cure.

Laundry day was always a lot of work for her. They had an electric wringer washer which was out in the wash shed. It worked a lot better than the old wash board she had hanging on the wall to remind her of the old days. After each load was washed you had to take each piece of clothes and run it through the wringer (another old saying) to remove the excess water prior to hanging the wash out on the clothes line. The wash shed was out back of the house and had a tin roof on it. She would keep two large wash tubs under the eaves to catch rain water which she used to wash certain clothes with. It made them softer and fresher than well water. Wash day was just that; a full day of washing, hanging out clothes and then ironing.

Grandmomma was a hard working woman not only in her home and garden, but also as a partner with Granddaddy doing what was necessary to make the farm a success. You had to be that way to succeed. A lot of people and marriages today could take lessons from them on how working together through the bad times only makes the good times that much sweeter.

This too was part of growing up in Aurora, NC.

Growing Up In Aurora NC – Just Your Everyday Boy

2010-09-30T09:31:00.000-04:00

Growing up and being like most boys I had my share of bumps, cuts, scrapes and bruises. As a small boy having a band aid can be a badge of courage but getting it was seldom worth the pain.

It seemed I always had the orange red stains on my skin that marked the latest cut or scrape; the stain of Merthiolate. Mom thought this was the cure all for any potential infection that was ever known to man. It had to help because nothing, not even the injury, hurt as bad as putting Merthiolate on an open wound. It had to have killed every germ because it burned so bad. I guess the thought was “If it didn’t sting I wasn’t working.” I have shed a lot of tears over that little red bottle coming out of the medicine chest and I tried to hide a lot of serious cuts so it would not be used.

I was always able to find a way to get hurt and as I think back some were funny and some could have had a very serious outcome. There was the time my friend Mack, my brother Mark and I were playing cowboys with our toy pistols. Mark pointed his gun at me and yelled “Bang, bang, you’re dead!” I replied “No I not.” To which he yelled again “Bang, Bang, your dead!” Again I said no. This happened a few more times and finally Mark got mad and used the pistol as a club and hit me upside the head. I fell down and heard Mark say, “Your dead now!”

Mark and I use to fight a lot, him being my younger brother and me being a mean older brother. I remember once chasing him through the house and running out the kitchen door. I was reaching for him when he ran through the open door and slammed it shut. The door had window panes in the top half and when he shut it and I was reaching out my arm it went through the glass pane and I sliced open my wrist. Once mom got the bleeding stopped out came the Merthiolate. After that was applied I was sent out to cut a “switch” which was then applied to another part of my anatomy.

Dad owned a combine harvester which he used to earn extra money by helping the local farmers harvest their crops. I remember one summer helping him while he was getting it ready for the next season. He was tightening bolts and asked me to climb into the hopper with a wrench and hold the other end of the bolts while he tightened the nuts. I climbed up and jumped into the hopper, but what I did not realize was there was a large wasp nest inside the rim and they did not appreciate me making all that noise. Dad said I let out a scream that would wake the dead. When my head started swelling my parents took me to Dr. Bonner’s office in Aurora. He said I had been stung 23 times around the head and neck. At least Granddaddy was not there to apply his remedy for wasp bites by spitting tobacco juice on the site, yuck.

On another occasion, when I was very young, I was riding on a tractor out in the fields with Dad. I was sitting on the gas tank with my legs dangling down the side. When he moved the lever to lower the plow my foot got caught and my ankle was sliced open. It was off to Aurora again to see Dr. Bonner. This time I got several stitches and a tetanus shot.

A few years later when I was learning to drive a tractor in the tobacco fields pulling a trailer Granddaddy or one of the workers would always turn the tractor for me when we got to the end of the rows. In this one field there was a lot of room at the end of the rows so they let me make the turns. There was a large, deep canal next to the rows and what we did not realize was there was a large washout covered in weeds. When I reached that point the front wheel on the tractor dropped into the washout and the tractor started turning over into the canal. One of the field workers grabbed the back of the tobacco trailer and was able to slow it down just long enough for Granddaddy to jump up and grab me and throw me off the tractor. I was not hurt but Granddaddy said he lost ten years of his life in that instant.

As a young boy shoes were seldom worn during the summer. I have stepped on my share of old rusty nails and broken glass. It seemed I was always getting a tetanus shot. Another hazard for a barefoot boy, which is rare today, is cigarette burns. Growing up in tobacco country most people smoked. When they were finished with a cigarette they thought nothing of throwing it on the ground and walking off. If you were unlucky enough to be in the area and barefoot you might be in for a painful surprise. And, Granddaddy thought tobacco juice helped this also.

I played in the woods all the time as a child and learned early the nightly ritual of inspection. Each night you would check all over your body, especially around your privates, for ticks and red bugs. For red bugs the treatment was simple if not a little strange. If you found a red bug spot you would cover it with finger nail polish and they went away, but it would sting if applied to certain areas. For ticks it was a little more serious in that they had to be removed. If they were fresh a little alcohol usually would make them let go and back out. If they had been there long enough to borrow in you had to pull them out but being very careful to make sure you go the head. Once you removed them guess what, out came the Merthiolate.

As I grew older the accidents became more serious. On one occasion I was riding my bike in Edward when the mail truck past me. He did not pull over and his mirror hit me back of the head. Luckily I was just scraped up and bruised when I fell off the bike and had a terrible headache for a while.

When I was 14 a couple of my friends had small motorcycles and dirt bikes. We made a track to ride them on next to my friends Robert and Dexter’s house in a field. I had been working on Dad and he had finally said we could look at dirt bikes the next weekend. I was at the track with everyone and Mack would let me drive his bike and I was fast on it. On this day I had made several laps and only had one more on my turn to ride so I pushed it as fast as I could. On the back curve I spun out and wreck. Fortunately the bike was not hurt and I jumped back on the bike and rode back to where everyone was laughing at me. Robert and I started walking back to the house when he look down at my leg and asked what is that? When I look down my jeans leg had blood on it. When I pulled them up I found a hole in my leg. Robert went and got Mrs. Nelly and she took one look and took me to the doctor in Aurora. Not only did that hole cost me another six stitches but it was the end of my dreams of getting a motorcycle.

My luck did not change when I went to high school. At the beginning of my freshmen year and playing football I cracked a vertebra in my lower back recovering a fumble and spent a couple of weeks in the hospital. This ended my first year of football. During my senior year of football I tore my knee cartilage during the homecoming game and missed the rest of the season. Every once in a while on a cold day it still bothers me and I laugh and think of my old football injuries.

I played basketball throughout high school and discovered I had very week ankles. I learned early on in my sports career how to shave my lower legs. Yes I said shave my legs. If you have weak ankles and have to tape them for support before every practices and game you learn to shave your legs. It only takes once removing the tape to help you lose that macho attitude and get out the razor.

Looking back at all the injuries, of which I have only mentioned a few, I am surprised I survived. But this is all a part of being a boy and exploring the world, albeit a clumsy boy.

This too is was part of growing up in Aurora NC.

Growing Up in Aurora NC – Granddaddy

2010-09-22T09:26:00.000-04:00

I had a special relationship with my grandparents growing up and I spent a lot of time with them having fun, learning and working on the farm. A lot of the person I am today comes from their teachings and example. I was blessed to have great parents and grandparents that helped guide me to adulthood.

I idolized my granddaddy and spent as much time with him as I could. We even shared the same birth day, April 24th. He was born on April 24, 1903 and I was born on April 24, 1953, fifty years apart. He was born in Bonnerton, N. C. to Michael Meager Gray and Sallie Stilley Gray and lived his whole life in Bonnerton.

On the day I was born he was transplanting tobacco. Grandmomma always told me on the day I was born she told him she wanted to go to Washington and the hospital to be there and he responded, “He didn’t have time for all this foolishness; there is work to be done.” Yes this was the beginning of that special bond.

He was always working around the farm and house except on Sunday. I can not ever remember him sitting still during the work day. In the evenings if he didn’t have to check his tobacco barns he would set in the living room and read the paper and it was off to bed early because sunrise didn’t wait for anyone.

He always wore a hat when he left the house whether a clean dress hat to church or an old worn farm hat. He smoked a pipe and I can still remember the sweet smell of aftershave and pipe tobacco. He kept a cigar box of Tamp Nugget or Hav-A-Tampa cigars in his truck and would smoke them while out in the fields.

When he was out riding around he would pick people up from the community who were walking and take them to the store or home. I have seen him go out of his way to drive someone home who did not have transportation. I can remember him telling me “If you want people to work for you then you have to be willing to help them.”

It was not until the late 1960s that they got an indoor bathroom in their house. I remember Granddaddy bathing at the sink on the back porch and they did not have hot water unless it was heated on the stove. During the very coldest part of the winter he would bath at the kitchen sink. He had an old safety razor and powder to make his shaving cream. Grandmomma made sure we all bathed every night when I was there and at times it was cold.

I can only remember my granddaddy losing his temper twice in my life. The first time was with me when I punched my brother Mark. He took me out back of the house and put a belt to my backside. This is the only time I can ever remember him punishing me and I am glad it was.

The other time I saw him lose his temper was at the cucumber grader at Porters Creek. After picking cucumbers all day we would load the truck and go to the packing shed to sell them each night. On this particular night it was late and we were in a long line of trucks waiting for our turn to unload at the grader. I remember I was sitting on top of sacks of cucumber in the back of the truck watching when another man tried to drive and cut Granddaddy off. He came out of the truck yelling things I had never heard come out of his mouth and he had a great big old fashion pipe wrench in his hand. The other men in the area came running over and grabbed him before he got to the guy. They all made the other man go to the back of the line and I can remember one old man saying as he walked by “He should have known not to cut in front of Mr. Willie like that.”

My dad and granddaddy were active members of the Richland Township Ruritan Club when I was growing up. I remember each year they had a Father and Son banquet and Granddaddy, Dad, my brother Mark and I would always go. It was held in the cafeteria at school and I often wondered how they got such good food out of that kitchen after what we had during the school day.

The other Ruritan event that I got to go to each year was the annual fish fry held at Jarvis Landing. This was held in the summer and was a lot of fun since many of my friends where there and we go swimming in the river and play. The fish, slaw and hushpuppies were good also.

When I was in the 7th or 8th grade I remember getting out of school one afternoon and walking up to the pool hall. When I entered I saw Granddaddy setting with a group of other men talking and drinking beer. I have never seen Granddaddy with a beer and I remember thinking, “cool I bet Grandmomma doesn’t know where you are.” But, then there was that bottle of whiskey I found in the back of her closet which when I ask what it was she said cough medicine.

One thing about Granddaddy he had a sure fire cure for anything that bite you. If you got bite by a bee or wasp you soon learned to keep it to yourself. If he found out he would grab you and spit chewing tobacco juice on it. But now that I think about it, it did take the sting out of the bite.

Another memory I have of my granddaddy is at night when he was asleep he could snore up a storm. He would make the windows rattle. I guess this explained why he and Grandmomma slept in separate rooms.

After I got married and move to Florida Granddaddy would always ask me, each time I went home, why I moved so far away. I would always answer him, “I looked on a map and saw how far south tobacco grew and I moved 100 miles further south.” He would always laugh at this but I knew the truth that he felt the same pains of missing each other that I did. The funny thing about this little joke we shared is I have spent my entire working career in agri-business.

Granddaddy was and will always be one of my role models and mentors. Some of my earliest memories of life are of time I spent with him and I have many great memories of us together.

This too was part of growing up in Aurora NC.

Growing Up In Aurora NC – The Pig

2010-09-17T10:26:00.000-04:00

The summer before my senior year in high school I got my first real job and finally got out of the tobacco fields. I was hired as a bag boy for the Piggly Wiggly grocery store in Aurora. I worked that summer and continued working after school and weekends during my senior year. In fact I work there for a short period after Sara and I got married just prior to moving to Florida.

Nat, the store manager, would hire a couple of guys to work part time and I felt lucky to get on. My friend Craig worked in the meat department and another friend Cliff worked up front with me. It was a lot of hard work and a lot of fun but most importantly it gave me gas money for my car and date money for Saturday night.

The Pig, as we called the store, was the main grocery store in the area so you got to see and talk to everyone. Because of this it seemed the store was always busy but Thursday, Friday and Saturday were the busiest days. On Thursday the crab houses paid their workers so for a couple of hours in the afternoon the store would be full of the crab pickers doing their weekly shopping. I remember the whole store smelling like crabs. Nat didn’t care; he would just smile knowing the store was making money.

Friday and Saturday were the best days to make tips as a bag boy. People were always more generous after pay day, this was especially true of the women. Men would seldom tip but the women almost always tipped. That quarter or fifty cents was greatly appreciated. Plus, there were some women that if you gave a special smile to and a little flirtation would land you an extra tip. It didn’t take long to know who to give a little extra attention to.

On other occasions there were several shut-ins that we would deliver their grocery order to. They would call or send their order in and we would fill it and I would drive it out to their homes. It was often hard to get out of their house as they were so lonely and isolated that they would talk your ears off and just wanted someone to listen to them. There were a couple of ladies who could tell the best stories and I had to force myself to go back to work.

Another important benefit of working at the Pig was all the cute girls who would come in. Since this was the main grocery store for the area sooner or later they would all show up. There were a lot of very attractive married women in that area and a lot of cute girls around my age. This always made work go by faster and brighten my day.

One of the most special girls was Sara. During the summer of 1970 we were not dating but I was always flirting with her. I remember when her cousin Connie came from Ohio and spent a few weeks with her and they would come into the store. I would always slip a few pieces of candy into their bags. To this day Connie still laughs about that. You do what you have to do to make points and I guess it worked since Sara and I got married and still are.

Nat would always work with us to allow time off so we could participate in sports at school. Craig and I both played football and basketball and he would work the schedules around our practices and games. On those occasions where he could get away you would see him at the games. Nat supported the schools and the activities; allowing car washes and bake sales at the store whenever he could.

It has been 38 years since I move away but every time I go back I go by the Pig for that feeling of nostalgia. Even though it has gone through several re-models it is still the same old Pig to me. I don’t recognize the people anymore but some things never change. You go and there is no need to get in a hurry because there are always people blocking the aisles talking to one another and catching up on the latest news.

This too is a part of growing up in Aurora NC.

Growing Up In Aurora NC - The Fire Bug

2010-09-01T08:05:00.000-04:00

What is it about fire that fascinates children? I don’t believe I have every seen a child, especially boys, that was not mesmerized by fire and especially matches. I was no different.

When I was 6 or 7 years old I had a good friend name David. His parents and mine were very close and Mom and his mother I think went to school together. They lived in a big farm house out in the country on Sparrow Road.

I use to spend a lot of time out on the farm with him and we had many great adventures up and down that dirt road and out in the fields. Unfortunately I do not remember a lot of the particulars about these adventures. It is just one of those times in life when you know it was fun.

There are a couple of instances which I do remember clearly and they both involve matches. In each case we were very fortunate that no one was hurt, I guess our guardian angels had to work overtime once again. We learned from each instance and eventually grew out of our curiosity with fire.

The first instance occurred during one of my visits to David’s in the late summer. We were out in the barn which was full of hay bales from top to bottom. We had found a little covey hole where we could set on the floor to rest and talk because we had been out running and playing. David reached in his pocket and pulled out a box of matches he had slipped out of the house. We began to make little piles of straw on the floor and set them on fire to watch them burn. Remember we are in a barn full of very dry hay bales.

This went on for a while when David’s father was walking by and smelled smoke. He came running in thinking his barn was on fire and he was going to lose all his hay for the winter. Image his surprise when he followed the smoke to our little covey and found us with our matches and little fire. The little fires we had built were nothing compared to the fire that was built on our backsides; for David by his father who then called my parents and they tore me up.

That was a lesson learned; unfortunately not by us. Later that winter I was visiting their home with my parents and David and I were out playing in the back of a field of dry, dead grass. We were a long way from the house and it was a very cold and windy day. Once again David came to the rescue and pulled out a box of matches and we decided to build a camp fire. No one would ever know since we were so far from the house. This is a great example of 6 year old minds working overtime.

After considerable effort we finally were able to build a fire using sticks, twigs, and straw from the field. In our zeal to build a fire we never thought about sparks from the fire and the fact; once again, we were surrounded by very dry grass on a windy day. It was not long before we had sparked several small fires, burning in different spots in the field which soon became very big fires. We took off running to the house and met our dads who were running out to see what was going on. By this time there was nothing they could do but let it burn. Lucky this particular field was surrounded by large drainage ditches and the fire was contained to the field and did not jump the ditches.

Once again it was time to face our parents. At first I thought we might get off easy because they were so glad we did not get hurt. This thankfulness on Dad’s part lasted until we got home. It was at this point that the belt came off his waist and was applied to my bottom as an educational tool to re-enforce the lessons about playing with matches I learned that day.

I never played with matches again, well, I never got caught again.

This too was part of growing up in Aurora NC.

Growing Up In Aurora NC - A Trip to the Tobacco Market

2010-08-19T09:48:00.000-04:00

Growing up I would go to the tobacco market with Granddaddy every opportunity I got. Even if it meant spending hours there I was never bored, well maybe a little bored, but I always enjoyed it. I can still remember the smells and sounds of the market vividly in my mind.

The song of the auctioneer walking down the rows of tobacco with the buyers following him is hard to forget. There was row after row of cured tobacco with each group of bundles brought by a different farmer hoping to get the best price of the day for his sell.

Several years ago when I was working as an account manager for an industrial maintenance service provider I visited a cigarette plant near Macon, Georgia. I had to park my car near the raw material receiving docks at the back of the facility. As soon as I stepped out of my car I could smell the dried, cured tobacco and a feeling of nostalgia washed over me in a flood of memories of the tobacco market and Granddaddy. As a long time ex-smoker who hates the smell of cigarette smoke I truly love the smell of cured tobacco.

Most years being the first to the market was very important. Not as a point of pride but because the best money was paid for the early crops and by that time of year money was tight and the income was needed to keep going. The first markets to open were the South Georgia markets and usually Granddaddy and couple of the other local small farmers would get together and put a load of their tobacco on a large truck and drive from North Carolina to the Georgia markets to get in on the first sales. I never got to go on those trips.

There were lots of local tobacco markets in Eastern North Carolina and when they opened Granddaddy would listen intently during lunch time to the market reports on the radio and read them in the newspaper trying to find which market was paying the best price. I can remember him saying after the report, “We are going to the market in Greenville tomorrow with a load. Do you want to come?” My answer was always “Yes.” We would get up before sunrise the next morning and load the truck with cured, sorted tobacco and off we would go. You had to get there early because you wanted to get a spot near the beginning of the auction line, not at the beginning but near it. Granddaddy knew all the little tricks to help get a better price for his crop.

When you arrived and checked in they would give you a lot number for your sale. The buyers from the different tobacco companies would spend the first part of the morning walking around and looking at the various lots and making notes for the auction. When the auction started the auctioneer would begin moving down the rows of tobacco and hesitating, not stopping, at each lot and never missing a beat of his bidding song. The buyers would follow behind him indicating their bids with a nod, a hand wave or some other special way. There were other people next to the auctioneer who would write up the sale as soon it was indicated and would leave a couple of copies of the sale paper on top of the lot. One was for the company buying the lot and the other was for the farmer to cash out with. Granddaddy would take his copy to the cashier window and they would pay him on the spot.

There is one particular trip to the market that sticks out in my mind and Mom still gets a little aggravated every time it comes up. I was around 6 years old and had been sick. I had a follow-up visit scheduled that particular morning with my doctor, Dr. Malene Irons, in Greenville, NC. Granddaddy was going to the market and agreed to take me to the doctor as it was near the market. All was good as I got to go to the market with Granddaddy again.

On the way to Greenville that morning I guess Granddaddy got to thinking about what time my appointment was and what time he would get to the market and what space in line he would get. After a lot of scheming and steaming he asked me if I knew where the market was to which I replied yes. He went in with me to the doctors office and checked me in and told the receptionist, “When he is done call him a taxi. He knows where he has to go.” He left and everyone was happy.

An hour later when I was done the receptionist made the call and I got into the taxi. The driver looked at me and asked, “Where can I take you little man?” I replied in my big man voice, “To the ‘bacca’ market.” “Ok, which one?” he asked. “In Greenville” I answered.

Now you have to understand that there were a lot of tobacco markets in Greenville not including the nearby communities. But, to a 5 year old there was only the tobacco market that he went to with his Granddaddy. The driver tried to get more information from me but to no avail so he began to drive by the various markets hoping I would recognize the right one.

After driving by 4 or 5 different markets we went past the old Pitt County Hospital and I remembered the market was near it. The driver started laughing and said something like, “thank goodness.” We pulled up in front of the market which I recognized immediately and we both walked in to look for Granddaddy so he could pay the driver.

On the way home Granddaddy got to thinking about what had happened and told me it might be best if I did not tell my mother about the taxi and our little adventure. Now telling a 5 year old not to tell his mother something is like pushing down on the gas peddle of a car. As soon as I got home I ran as fast as I could and told Mom all the fun I had that day in ever detail. I have never seen my Mom get so mad and yell so loud. Even Grandmomma got mad and yelled at Granddaddy and I believe this is one of the few times I ever heard her raise her voice.

As for me I could hardly wait to go back to the tobacco market and have many, many more great adventures with my Granddaddy.

This too was part of growing up in Aurora, NC.

Growing Up In Aurora NC – The Country Store

2010-08-05T07:55:00.000-04:00

In today’s world of mini-marts, 7-11’s, Circle K’s and other convenience stores the small neighborhood grocery / country story has all but disappeared. Most of today’s stores are corporate owned and as such it is all about profits and volume. The local owner’s friendly smile is gone, replaced by the overworked, underpaid clerk worried about getting robbed.

Signs like these epitomize the death of that neighborhood feel: “NO LOITERING” and “NO SHIRT, NO SHOES, NO SERVICE” or “ONLY TWO TEENS IN THE STORE AT THE SAME TIME.” Factor in a 2 inch piece of bulletproof glass enclosing the clerk and register and you really do have a place you feel welcome at.

I remember the stores when I grew up were not only places you went to buy food, snacks or gas, but places you went to meet friends and talk. A trip to the store for a loaf of bread could take 30 minutes by the time you got through all the latest gossip. The store was a warm friendly place where the clerks were usually the store owners or family members and they cared about your business.

As I think about it here are a few of my favorite country stores from back when I was growing up.

One of my all time favorite stores was in Bonnerton, near my grandparent’s home. We always called it Mrs. Edna’s Store. It was a large old building located at the intersection of Durham Creek Lane and Bonnerton Road. Mrs. Edna Bonner, Owner and Proprietor, lived in an apartment attached to the store. The store had very high ceilings with big slow turning fans. The high ceilings were to help keep the store cool in summer as there was no air conditioning. The store was divided in 4 sections; on the west wall were dry goods, cloth, sewing thread, a few clothes and such. On the east wall were the non-refrigerated groceries and a very large old fashion cash register with a hand crank. In the back were the coolers for meat, milk, etc. In the center of the store were larger items that did not fit on the selves. All the goods in each section were displayed on selves behind the counters. If you wanted something you had to ask the clerk, Mrs. Edna, to get it for you.

Some of my fondest memories of Mrs. Edna’s were when I was very young and Grandmomma would gather the eggs and say “Let’s walk down to Mrs. Edna’s and go trading.” We would walk down to the store with a basket of eggs and she would trade the eggs for items she needed. The best part of the trip was related to two items that were on the register counter, a large bin of Jack’s Cookies and a wheel of cheddar cheese. Grandmomma would always ask me which one I wanted. I would always choose the cookies and get to reach in the bin and get two of the cookies for a penny. Occasionally Grandmomma would get a wedge of cheese and Mrs. Edna would cut off a sliver for me. Um, um good. A trip to Mrs. Edna’s would take a while as her and Grandmomma would set and talk forever, especially if some of the other ladies from the community were there. If Grandmomma needed something in a hurry she would send me to the store for it with a note and the money tied up in a handkerchief. I would run to the store and bring back the item plus two Jack’s cookies.

When we lived in Edward there were several little stores that bring back memories. One of them was Heber Jones’ Texaco. It was a small store which sold gas, a few dry goods and groceries, snacks and soft drinks. What I remember most about this store was the old pot belly stove that sat in the middle of the store. This was a place were the older men of the town would gather to set, smoke and talk about the past. I can remember going there with Granddaddy and him staying for hours talking. I would go outside and play around the back of the store in the old tire pile, lucky I did not get bit by a snake. It was one of the only stores in the area which was open on Sunday and I can remember momma fussing “this is just not right.” It may not be right but he was always the busiest on Sunday afternoon.

Another store in Edward which I use to go to a lot was Gray’s Grocery (not related). The front part of Mrs. Mary Gray’s house was a small grocery store. It was located directly across the street from our house in Edward so mom would send me to get milk or bread because she let us carry a “tab”. This was common in small country stores where they would let you charge items to your page or “tab” in their book and pay it off at the end of the week. One of the things I remember about Mrs. Mary’s store was she had the largest candy, cakes and snack display of any store in the area. Another favorite area of her store was the library where you could check out books. The county Bookmobile would stop at her store and she would check out book titles that her regulars like to read and then loan them out.

One other special thing about Mrs. Mary’s store was she sold beer and would sell it to me when I was 16. We had moved to Aurora 3 years earlier and even though I lived across the street from her for 10+ years she never asked me for an ID. She would always ask how my mother was doing or what I had been up to lately but never questioned my age. This was another of my favorite stores.

Prior to the Piggly Wiggly Supermarket being built in Aurora there were two independent grocery stores in the area, Guilford’s Market in Aurora and Bonner’s Grocery in Edward. Mr. Bonner was the son of Mrs. Edna Bonner and ran a grocery store in Edward for years. This was a full line grocery store with two, yes two, checkouts and on Saturday you wish there were more. I still remember Momma sending me to the store to ask Mr. Billy for a pound of fresh hamburger. It was a shame the “Pig” put these two fine stores out of business but it is hard to compete against a large chain store.

In Aurora one of my favorite stores was Jones on east Main Street. This was the main store were I would buy the gas for my car and smokes for me. It was another of the small stores that was always friendly. One of Jones’ successes was that it was the only store in town that sold block ice. This made it a busy spot during the summer when people were buying ice for picnics and especially for homemade ice cream.

There were two little stores in the community of Small that I remember stopping at often with my parents when I was growing up. When I was older and had my car I have a different memory of them. On Saturday night when I was going to Minnesott Beach I could stop at one of the stores and they would sell me beer. At the other when I tried to buy it the old lady check my driver’s license and said, “I thought you were Burton and Mae’s boy! You better get out of here or I am going to call your mother.” I got out fast and she never did call.

Every little community had these small country stores in them. They usually had two gas pumps and a kerosene pump, for oil lamps or heating fuel. They would sell a few items inside and they all had a few chairs or benches where people would gather and talk – “loiter.” Plus “barefoot, shirtless” kids were constantly running into them buying sodas and sweets. You always felt welcome.

I often find myself missing those little country stores and the slower pace of life, where you would take the time to meet and know your neighbors.

This too was part of growing up in Aurora NC.

Growing Up In Aurora NC – High School Football

2010-07-28T07:49:00.000-04:00

It will soon be that time of year again for high school football teams to begin practicing and getting ready for the fall games. I work in a small town in Florida that reminds me a lot of where I grew up in Aurora, NC. The other day while sitting in the break room I overheard two of the local men talking about their local high school football team and it’s prospects this year. This reminded me of the days that I use to play football on the AHS team.

Practice would always start in August in order to be ready for the first game in September. We would practice in late afternoon usually around 6:30 because most of the guys had to work on the farms and could not get to practice earlier. Down east in North Carolina in August the temperature and humidity can be brutal with temps often over 90° during practice. In the early evening the mosquitoes were so bad if you stopped moving you could lose a pint of blood; well maybe not a pint but it was bad. We did not have all the heat related safety rules that are required today and we were often pushed to the limit. Coach West and Coach Comegys worked us hard but taught us a lot. Everyone on the team respected both of these men and would try even harder the more they demanded.

They demanded a lot and if you were slacking off they would let you know it. I have received a many a kick in the pants or a slap up side of my helmet with a shout, “Larry, what is your problem boy!” I have to laugh when I think back because today parents would sue the school, coaches, and everyone else over such behavior yet it only served to make me a better player and later in life a better man. Though I must admit there were times when I was pushing that sled around the field with Coach Comegys riding and yelling “faster, faster” that I did have a few unkind thoughts about him and Coach West.

It was hard for small 1-A schools to get enough players to field two full squads so you would often play both ways, both offense and defense. This was especially true with our team. Most of us played both ways so you had to be in good shape as you did not get to rest during the game. Most players never got to leave the game unless they were injured. I played both offense and defense; as an offensive end and a defensive tackle. This made for a very long game, especially when you were losing.

My first year of varsity football started in the 9th grade and only lasted two games. I made it through all the practices and the two games which we lost very decisively. The next Monday afternoon practice was especially hard as the coach was determined we would be better prepared for the next Friday night game. Coach West had us stand in a large circle to practice recovering fumbles; we had missed several opportunities during the last game. He would call out two names from opposite sides of the circle and throw the football in the middle for us to recover. When he called Johnny’s and my name I got to the ball first and dove on it and covered the ball. The way I landed I turned my back to Johnny and when he dove for the ball his helmet hit in the middle of my lower back. We both jumped up and started running back to the circle. I made it about 10 steps and then collapsed. The coach took me inside and started doing his coaching thing of putting heat and ice on it and telling me to toughen up that I was not hurt, but nothing helped. He finally decided I was hurt and called my parents to take me to the ER which was 30 miles away.

After several hours in the ER and a couple of x-rays it was determined I had cracked a vertebra and they admitted me to the hospital. I was totally immobilized and stayed in the hospital for two weeks. The only good part of this was when my best friend, Craig, came and told me about the cute new girl who had moved into town whose name was Sara. Several years later I married that girl and she is still my cute new girl. (See the chapter titled: “How I Met Your Mother”)

The next two years of football were a lot more fun; I even scored a couple of touchdowns. We would win a few games and lose a lot more but we played hard and kept trying. I am not going to tell you how we would practice, without the coaches knowledge, grabbing a hand full of sand when in our stance and throwing it into our opponents face without the referees seeing it. Or, how we would take nail files and sharpen our finger nails to razor sharp edges, which we also did before basketball games. No, we will not discuss that because that would be un-sportsmanship like and we know we would not do that.

My senior year was a great year for Aurora football we actually had a winning year. I got to play the first 6 games before I was injured again. It was the homecoming game and late in the 3rd quarter when a player from the other team threw a block on me and I twisted my knee and tore my cartilage. That ended my football career and for the remainder of the year I was sidelined. To this day when it gets really cold my knee acts up and when people ask me why I am limping I tell them it is an old football injury; kind of like a badge of honor.

I often think back about playing high school sports and the importance it played in my life. First and foremost it kept me out of trouble and mischief. It taught me the importance of teamwork, working together toward a common goal. It also gave me the discipline to work toward that goal and to put my all into it. Coach Comegys and Coach West were our teachers, coaches, advisors and role models. Several times in school and even after I graduated Coach West would set down with me and listen to an issue I was dealing with and give me advice. One of the pieces of advice I still practice that he gave me was “never be a quitter because a quitter never wins.”

This too was part of growing up in Aurora NC.

Growing Up In Aurora, NC – Minnesott Beach

2010-07-23T07:25:00.001-04:00

Two of my best summers occurred during 1969 and 1970. I had just got my drivers license and a car and thought I was king of the world. It was the summer that I worked in tobacco with all my high school friends for Mr. Cayton and it was the summer I discovered the Minnesott Beach Pavilion.

As much fun as I had working during the week it was Saturday night that made it all worth it. I can remember early that first summer on a just such a night getting dressed up and driving around Aurora looking for some excitement. For those not familiar with Aurora this involved driving around the town, which took all of 5 minutes then pulling into the Piggly Wiggly parking lot and watching the caution light blink on and off. This was about as exciting as it got.

It was not long before my friend Mack, who was older than I, drove up next to me and asked if I wanted to go to Minnesott with him. I responded "What is in Minnesott?"; which was an even smaller town and more remote than Aurora. He told me they had converted the old roller skating rink into a dance pavilion and had a live band every Saturday night. I told him yes I would like to go so we drove to my house to drop off my car and for me to tell my parents where I was going.

Minnesott Beach is approximately 25 to 30 miles from Aurora and in the next county, Pamlico County. This is important only in the respect of our age. Pamlico County High School was larger than Aurora High School but there was a large rivalry between the two schools especially in all sports.

When we arrived I had no idea what to expect as I had never been to a place like this before. Mack had told me not to worry but to stay close to him because the Pamlico County boys did not like boys from Aurora coming over and taking their girls. Now he waited to tell me this until we are there and walking up to the ticket window. At that point all I could do was pay for my admission and get my hand stamped and go in. The place was packed with wall to wall teenagers. If there had been a fire marshal or code this place was surely in violation as there was only one door in and out. It was a large room with hardwood floors, and big windows that were propped open, no glass or screens. It used to be an old roller skating rink in the 1940s through the early 1960s. On a hot steamy southern night it was like a sauna. The band was at the opposite end of the room and with amplifiers taking up most of the wall the sound was deafening. It was GREAT.

I made up my mind after I entered the place I was not going to worry and I was going to have fun. The first thing I did was survey the room and picked out the best looking, prettiest girl in the place and decided she was the one. Now as is typical all the girls hung out in groups and all the guys bunched up in another area with a few people dancing in front of the band. I have never understood this mentality as I do not go to a dance to hang out with guys; girls are much more fun.

Having not wasted any time making the selection I went straight to the group of girls and singled her out and asked her to dance. Low and behold she said yes! After recovering from my initial shock we went out on the dance floor and spent most of the remainder of the night dancing. In between sets I found out her name was Cindy and she was the chief cheerleader for Pamlico High and two years older than I, wow. Cindy had a boyfriend who as away taking summer classes at the University of North Carolina and she liked having someone she could just have fun and dance with. Crap; that big brother image hits again, but I still got to dance with the prettiest girl in the place, who was the chief cheerleader, and I still could let my imagination run wild; which it did. We hung out and danced for several Saturday’s that summer and it was fun.

Throughout that summer I spent almost every Saturday night at Minnesott dancing until it was closing time. Pamlico County has a lot of cute girls and they like it when a guy is not afraid to dance. Boys who just hang around with groups of guys do not know what they are missing.

When the next summer came around I could hardly wait for the Minnesott Beach Pavilion to open up, it closed during the winter. Each Saturday night my routine was the same; I would scan the crowd and pick out my target and ask her dance. One of the first Saturday’s of that 1970 summer I pick out a girl I had not seen before and asked her to dance. Her name was Donna and she was one year older than me and that years’ chief cheerleader for Pamlico High. What is it about me and Pamlico County chief cheerleaders? We actually dated for a couple of months and had lots of fun before it ended.

It was not always fun and sometimes it actually got rough; remember this was a rival school’s hangout. I remember once I became sick and left early and a couple of my friends from Aurora had got caught in the parking lot by a group of Pamlico County boys and were roughed up. The next week we decided we would all meet at Minnesott and dare anyone to mess with us. I arrived at the designated time, paid my fee and went into the pavilion, standing about ten foot tall. I looked around and realized that there were no other boys from Aurora and suddenly I shrunk to about 3 feet tall. I soon relaxed and went in and had a great time. Most of the guys from Pamlico County knew me or at least had seen me there so many times that I was accepted.

Another time I almost got into trouble occurred toward the end of the 1971 summer season at Minnesott. By this time I was dating Sara and we were going “steady”. We would go dancing at the pavilion occasionally and on this particular Saturday night we took her younger brother with us. Back then John was a smaller boy with a bit of a cocky attitude and it was not long before I looked over and a group of guys had him surrounded and a lot of shouting was going on. I walked over and asked John if there was any trouble I needed to know about. I am a big guy, over 6 feet 4 inches and back then was in good shape. The group of guys around John looked up at me and said there was no problem and quickly left. Needless to say I got Sara and we took John and left before any more trouble started.

I had a lot of fun at the old Minnesott Beach Pavilion and met a lot of great people there. I recently drove back to Minnesott on one of my trips to Aurora and the pavilion is long gone, but the memories are still there.

This too is part of growing up in Aurora NC.

Growing Up In Aurora NC – Grandmomma’s Kitchen

2010-07-13T08:15:00.000-04:00

When I think back to my childhood, one of the comfort places I find is the memories of my Grandmomma’s kitchen. This was the place of life and love in their home in Bonnerton. During the day there was always activity going on in the kitchen.

One of the first things you would have noticed in her kitchen was 2 stoves, one gas and one wood burning stove. She always said there are some things you just can not cook on a gas stove. I don’t remember all of the things she would only cook on wood but she believed you got a better heat from wood. One byproduct of this was Granddaddy had to keep chopped and split wood year round. Maybe this is one of the reasons he was always so strong and healthy because he had to chop wood for the woodpile year round.

Another benefit of this was during the winter the kitchen was always warm. They only had a kerosene heater in the “sitting room” which they lit only for a couple of hours in the evening while Grandma would sit and read. In the morning Granddaddy would get up early and lit a fire in the wood stove. I can remember being a small child and getting up on a cold winter’s day and running as fast as I could from the bedroom to the kitchen to get warm. I would always dress in the kitchen until I got older.

Grandma would cook a good breakfast of eggs and sausage or bacon. The eggs were from her chickens and the sausage was from the last “hog killing”. Most of what they ate, they raised or grew. They would go to Mrs. Edna’s store and trade eggs for any staples they needed such as flour, sugar, etc.

After breakfast she would start lunch. Lunch was the big meal of the day and she would work most of the morning on it. There were no can biscuits; she always made them from scratch. Depending on the time of the year vegetables had to be picked, cleaned and prepared. Meal preparation was work, no microwave and/or ready to eat food in her kitchen. After lunch was eaten the leftovers were left on the table and covered with a table cloth, ready for supper. If you did not like leftovers you did not eat, no argument.

One other memory from lunchtime in the kitchen was Granddaddy would always turn on the radio at 12:00. He would listen to the latest market reports, that is, the local tobacco market, corn markets, soybean markets, etc. to get the latest farm prices. Then he would listen to his main source of national news, The Paul Harvey Report. Once these two shows were over the radio was turned off.

There was always sweet tea made for every meal. Even though she had running water in the kitchen you had to go and get water for the tea, coffee and any cooking water, from the hand pump out by the barn. She would only use that water and come to think of it I believe she only used the kitchen water for washing dishes.

To this day I have never had water that taste as good and as refreshing as the water directly out of that pump. When you went to the pump you would have to prime it to get it started. To do this there was a bucket of water left at the pump at all times. If you use it to prime the pump you would fill it before you finished. To prime the pump you would pour the water from the bucket into the top of the pump and start to pump the handle as fast as you could so it would catch. Once the pump was primed you would pump it for a few minutes to be sure you pumped out all of the priming water before you drank from the pump. There was always a metal ladle hanging on a nail in the tree next to the pump for you to catch a drink. The water was always cold that came out of the pump. I recently got the old original pump head from my dad and plan to make a fountain out of it for my flower beds.

Certain times of the year the kitchen would become a food processing center, especially during canning time. Grandmomma had a pantry the size of a large walk in closet which by the end of summer would be filled with mason jars full of fresh canned vegetables. She would can green beans, carrots, corn, squash, beets, peas, and tomatoes to name a few. She would always make and can fresh tomato juice just for me. During the month of June when cucumbers were being harvested she would pickle cucumbers to make bread and butter pickles and sweet pickles.

The process took a lot of work. You had to pick, clean, blanch and prepare the vegetables. The jars, lids and rings had to be cleaned and sterilized. Once all the ingredients were ready she would fill the jars and put them in the pressure cooker to ensure the jars were under vacuum and sealed. Done right they would eat fresh vegetables all winter.

Canning always took place in the summer and there was no air conditioning. It would get very hot in that kitchen with all the stoves going and the work that took place. It is so much easier to go to the store today but I remember nothing tasted as good as canned pole beans or canned fresh corn.

During holiday meals and other special events I remember Momma, Grandmomma and others working in that kitchen cooking and preparing meals. My momma and grandmomma were two of the best cooks I have every known. There style was as southern as you can get, a veritable cholesterol heaven but that is ok because that is what they have medicine for. Today I am blessed to have a wife who has taken her Ohio/Pennsylvania Dutch style of cooking and mixed it with what she learned from Mom and Grandma and it can not get much better.

The kitchen was the center of that home and the love that poured through it is still strong in my memories today.

This too was part of growing up in Aurora NC.

Growing Up In Aurora NC – Being Scared

2010-07-01T11:47:00.000-04:00

I told my 3 year old grandson the other night it was time to go to bed and he proceeded to tell me how he was scared of the dark. I started thinking about childhood fears and how, as we grow up and throughout life we all have fears. We learn to overcome those them and grow stronger having done so.

One of the earliest fears I can remember was when I was living in Washington, NC when I was around 4 years old. We had a small 2 bedroom apartment of which I remember very little except for on thing, the light fixture in my room was just a light bulb hanging on a wire with a pull string. I can clearly remember going to bed at night and being terrified when they cut the light off. When it was turned off and I looked up it looked like a snake hanging through a hole in the ceiling. To this day I still do not like snakes.

Another early scary event and part of growing up was when we lived in Edward and went to church at night. Edward is a very small town with only a couple of streets. We lived on the main street through town and the church was on the back street. Between our house and the church was a small wooded area with a path through it maybe a 100 yard long. I remember going to church one night and my friends, Al, Hank and Billy and one of them suggesting that we walk home through the path in the woods. It was like a badge of courage we were each trying to earn and this would be the first time we attempted it. I not sure about the other guys but that 100 yard walk was one of the longest walks I have ever taken. What should have been a short distance seem to go on forever. The woods were darker than on any moonless night. It was quite, not even the wind was blowing. After walking for what seemed like hours without saying a word between us, we finally made it to the other end near Al’s house. It was like the moon come out and the stars were shinning and we started laughing and teasing one another. From that night on we would always take the short cut through the woods, I guess we earned our badge.

At first my friends and I would only play at each others houses in Edward, but as we got older and braver we would venture out into the area. Behind Hank’s house was an old abandoned barn which soon became our club house and our base of operations from which we would explore deeper and deeper into the woods. Finally around age 10 or 11 we began to explore the creek and for the next couple of years this became our world of adventure.

Another childhood fear I had was deep water, I could not swim. One summer when I was about 7 my Uncle Edward came to visit from the Air Force. He took me to the Durham Creek Bridge to go for a swim. He jumped off the bridge and kept calling me to jump in. When I refused to go in, he got out of the water and asked me why I would not join him. I told him I could not swim to which he replied “its time you learned how” and picked me up and threw me off the bridge. Just so you understand the bridge was only 6 foot off the water and it was only 10 to 15 feet from the shore and he jumped in behind me. When I got to shore, how I am not sure, I made up my mind I would learn to swim and I did.
As I grew older new fears would come up and have to be dealt with. One of the scariest fears started around 14 when I began to go to parties/dances. One of the hardest things I ever had to do was to ask a girl to dance. It took all the courage I could muster to walk up and ask “do you want to dance.” The funny thing is this one never totally went away, that first dance was always hard to ask for. The fear of rejection is a powerful deterrent to fun if you succumb to it; luckily I never did and I loved to dance.

As I got older other scary times include sneaking out of the house and meeting friends to ride our bikes all night. Another time was walking into a store to buy beer when I was 16 and having the owner swear he was going to call my mom; he never did and still sold me the beer. Having to call my dad to come get me when the family car was wrecked and I had been drinking was no picnic either. Yes I had a few wild times. Taking the blame and telling dad I ran into the back of a school bus, when a friend backed the bus into the front of the family car so he would not lose his bus license. In each case you did what you had to do and became stronger for it.

Asking Sara to marry me was scary and I was petrified the day I got married, but that was the best decision I ever made. Packing everything we owned into the back of a Ford Pinto and moving to Florida was scary but led to the greatest adventures of my life. Becoming a father and having children is a scary event and come to think of it, it still is terrifying even though they are grown up. Life is full of scary choices but each builds your character and gives you strength to overcome the next event. If you look back at some of your most scary moments you will find some of your best memories.

This too was part of growing up in Aurora NC.

Growing Up In Aurora NC - Working In Tobacco

2010-06-16T07:35:00.000-04:00

From as early as I can remember I used to spend my summers working in tobacco on the farm. I worked with my grandparents most of the time but when they retired I worked for Linwood Cayton on his farm, earning money for school clothes and fun things.

From the time I could walk I “helped” Granddaddy Gray work on his farm, staying at their house Monday through Friday. Granddaddy Gray was a farmer and that was his only job. He worked on the farm 6 days a week, but Sunday was the day of rest. The only time I can remember him working on Sunday was for the short time it took to check the temperature of the tobacco barns when he was curing tobacco and this could not be avoided. His livelihood depended on the success of the farm. It was his business and he ran it as a business. Him and Grand Momma were a team, working together sometimes well into the night.

In those days it took a lot of people to bring in a crop of tobacco. The Grays were not a large family so Granddad relied on hiring outside help during the time to harvest. The same people would work with him year after year. One man who worked with Granddad as long as I could remember was Esau and he was the only man who he hired year round, as long as there was work to be done. I use to work as hard as I could trying to keep up with Esau and he would just laugh at me and say “ain’t no way you can keep up with this old man.” And, I could not.

Granddaddy Joe, Mom’s dad, owned a small country store as well as a small farm. The Hollowells were a larger extended family with several having small farms in the same area. They would share equipment and schedule different tasks so they could maximize the efficiencies of their labor and equipment. I remember during tobacco harvest time that Granddaddy Joe would harvest his crop on Monday and Tuesday of each week then everyone would move to Uncle George’s farm and work Wednesday through Friday.

They relied on hiring family and friends to bring in the harvest. Everyone lived within a few miles and most went to church together, either Mary’s Chapel Church or White Hill Baptist Church. It was a totally different atmosphere and thinking back it reminds me of the old movies you use to see of family farms. Up around the “tieing” shed/barn the women were always talking and singing while never slowing down. Out in the fields the young men would work hard but always found time to talk and found the energy to wrestle at the end of the rows. I remember debating (arguing) politics with my cousin Robert, Bob, Cayton. Whatever he said I would argue the opposite just to get him going. Who knows I may have been instrumental in preparing him for his work, now, in local politics. Whether at the barn or in the fields it was hard work but it was fun. Working with family always makes the job seem easier when everyone is pulling their share and working toward a common goal.

After my grandparents retired and stop farming I worked for Linwood Cayton each summer for 3 years while I was in high school. He was one of the largest tobacco farmers in the area and was one who utilized the latest technology in farming. Even with this it still required a large number of people to bring in a crop of tobacco of the size he planted each year.

One of the things that I remember about his crew was he would hire a lot of high school kids to do the work. The best thing about this was a lot of them were some of my best friends. I can not remember everybody but a few of my friends that worked with me for Mr. Cayton were Clifton Murray, Dexter Mills, Frank Woodard, Pat Cutler and many more. Whether working in the fields or up at the barn this made the day go by a lot faster. I still remember the old man who drove the tractor out in the field yelling at us boys to stop all that horseplay and get back to work. Up before the sun rose and then work 10 and 11 hour days to get the crop in before school started in the fall. A couple of years they actually delayed the start of school, in the county, by a week so farmers could finish picking their tobacco.

Oh yes and who could ever forget an “RC Cola and a Moon Pie” or maybe a pack of “NABS”. Every mid afternoon Mr. Cayton would bring a snack out to field for us to take a break and yes he deducted it from our pay but who cared. I still like a good cold cola and a pack of “NABs”.

Another thing I remember about Mr. Cayton was he liked high school football and in the late summer when practice started he would let the couple of us boys who played off early so we could go to practice. Mr. Cayton was a professional farmer and we worked hard for him but he was always a fair man and cared about his crew of teenagers.

Though each of these farmers had different styles of work and different challenges they each share a common bond, farming was their way of life. They worked hard and like all farmers they had good years and bad, but they kept coming back. I learned a lot about life from each of these men and value the opportunity and time I shared with them. They have been pivotal in shaping my life, my work ethic, my business and my family life. Though at times life was hard they always demonstrate the correct order of the universe: God first, then family, and then work.

This too is part of growing up in Aurora NC.

Growing Up In Aurora NC – A Trip to the Dentist

2010-06-09T08:00:00.000-04:00

Yesterday I had the great pleasure, ha, of going to an Oral Surgeon for a dental procedure. I have never like going to the dentist but realize it is one of those necessary evils that man must endure. While there I could not help but compare it to my trips to dentist when I was young.

The reception area and waiting area of this office was bright, open, and airy and had a very nice and soothing décor. The reception and financial staff were professional both in manner and dress. The procedure rooms were brightly painted and lit with relaxing pictures and music playing. There was little to no equipment visible while you waited.

What a contrast to how I remember the dentist visits when I was a child.

Prior to the visit Mom would make me brush my teeth several times with tooth paste and baking soda. Once that was done you better not eat anything or it was back to brushing again. I guess the old rule of “first impressions” was what she was going for and she was going to make it a good one even if I had to brush all day.

The reception area was like any other doctor’s office, small, dimly lit, old looking and had a few uncomfortable chairs. I can still remember hearing the sound of the drill going and the cries and screams of children. I know now it was mostly from fear but I remember the fear it put in me as I waited my turn.

After setting out in the waiting room listening to this for what seemed like hours I was taken back to “the room.” It was small and the paint was old and faded. I was placed in a chair that had all kinds of torture devices attached to it and told to relax; the dentist will be back soon. Now that I was in the back, the drill sounds and noises from the next examine room were even louder. All I could do was set and listen while staring at all the equipment around me. With each new sound of the drill I would become more and more afraid and my imagination would run wild.

The dentist would finally come in and start packing junk in my mouth to open it beyond any range it was designed to be opened so he could take x-rays. The x-ray machine was attached to chair and he would jam it into the side of my face and again tell me “just relax.” After repeating this from several angles he would leave for what seem like forever to study the film. Oh, and I still had my mouth wide open.

The dentist must have liked me because he always came back with a big smile on his face and would proclaim in a loud voice “you have cavities and we must fill them.” Now the real torture began.

The first thing he would do was to bring out this needle that was designed for an elephant and begin sticking it all around my month while telling me I would only feel a small prick. That was a lie. The first couple of jams hurt but nothing compared to when he jabbed into the roof of my mouth. I could fill the Novocain rush into the roof of my mouth and my nose burning as it entered.

Once your face felt numb and as big as pumpkin he would start to work. Have you ever notice how children’s dentist have the biggest hands and fingers especially when trying to stick them and a lot of tools in your mouth. The first tool was the pick. He would stick it into the cavity and start to scrape and pull. He would then ask if I felt anything to let him know and I soon learned even if I did not feel anything to say I did because he would give you another shot and this would help in the long run.

Next came the dreaded moment of truth when the dentist reached for the drill. No matter how scary it looks hanging on the chair it is nothing compared to when the dentist grabs it and pulls it over to you. Then there is the sound. It is a sound that will send chills down a grow man’s spine. Few sounds in this world are more associated with fear and pain that the sound of a dental drill.

In truth you feel very little from the actual drilling but the imagined pain can be very real to a child. The noise and the pressure plus the bad taste in your mouth just adds to the terror. While all this is going on his nurse is pumping gallons of water in my mouth trying to wash the dust out of the dentist’s way. Finally just before I am about to drown in my own saliva the dentist calmly tells me to set up and turn my head and spit. Then he is back at it, drilling and drilling, for what seems like an eternity. Finally he is though with this tooth but in my case that was just the first of several to be drilled. On and on it goes and I can see the sweet pouring off the dentist head and can imagine the big grin under his mask. When finally he is finished drilling all the teeth he starts packing them with filling which leaves a very bad taste in my mouth.

When I was finally through and about to leave the dentist gets to give me one last insult to my young intelligence, he offers me a sugary lollipop. I guess this is his way of saying he is sorry or is it his way of insuring I will get more cavities and be coming back.

My visit to the dentist yesterday was nothing like this but there is one similarity, once the Novocain wears off it still hurts like hell.

Oh well, this too was part of growing up in Aurora NC.

Growing Up In Aurora NC – Memorial Day, Summer Has Arrived

2010-06-02T09:07:00.000-04:00

Memorial Day, the day we remember those, especially in the military, that have made the ultimate sacrifice for our freedom. It is a day to reflect upon the freedoms we have and a time to honor and remember all the men and women who have died defending the rights we enjoy so much in the country.

It has also become the un-official first day of summer. It is time to fire up the grill, go to the beach and have fun with family and friends. As a child growing up in Aurora we followed this tradition.

When I was very young, Memorial Day was usually the first day of “sunburn season.” The family would pack up and go to Core Point and spend the day playing in the Pamlico River. Sometimes we would cookout but most of the time Mom would pack a picnic lunch of fried chicken and all the trimmings. It would be late afternoon when we would head home. Around dark-thirty the realization would hit, I was burnt to a crisp and I would let out a long loud cry that went on forever. Mom would break out the Noxzema cold cream and glob it on. It did help and I can vividly remember the cool soothing relief but, nothing would help for long. Taking a bath was like being tortured. Clothes and anything touching your skin was instant pain. All the fun of a great day at the beach became a long miserable night. Getting dress the next day and going to school where people were constantly patting you on the back just added to your misery.

On other occasions we would go to the river with the Bonners, the Parkers and the Roberts. They all had children my age which made for a great day. After spending the day at the river, with the same sunburn experience, we would stop by the Parker’s house and make homemade ice cream. Depending on how many people were there we would have one or more ice cream churns going. After all the ingredients were mixed and the ice and rock salt put in the bucket the men would start hand cranking the churns. There were no electric churns back then, at least we did not have one. It was always fresh fruit ice cream depending on what fruit was available. Unlike today’s year round fruit availability we only had seasonal fruit so when peaches were in season we had peach ice cream, when strawberries were in season we had strawberry ice cream and so on. There was one exception, bananas and we had lots of banana ice cream.

Often when we would get together with our friends and family we would cook-out. The grill would be fired up with charcoal, no gas grills, and when the coals were hot it was ready for the meat. Most of the time it was hamburgers and hot dogs but sometimes we had barbequed chicken. On special occasions when steaks were cooked it was just for the grow-ups, we still got hamburgers or hot dogs. No matter what was cooked it was good and we would always have a lot of fun and plenty to eat. It was always finished off with watermelon.

Memorial Day marked the beginning of another fun summer each year. Friends and family getting together were just part of the great memories I have of being a child. I sometimes think I can still taste the ice cream.

This too was a part of growing up in Aurora, NC.

Oh, that reminds me I need to make an appointment to see my dermatologist.

Growing Up In Aurora NC – Segregation

2010-05-28T07:38:00.000-04:00

I was watching a show on “The History Channel” recently about the turmoil of the 1960’s and saw a sign over a water fountain that said “White Only”. This brought back memories of when I was a young boy in the 1950’s and 1960’s.

Growing up in eastern North Carolina segregation was the way of life in the 50’s and 60’s. Because it was predominantly a rural farming area a large percentage of the population was “colored”. At the time this was the polite way to referring to African Americans as oppose to the “N” word, which was also widely used. Segregation affected all aspects of life. You knew the unwritten rules and you followed them.

One event that I clearly remember occurred at my great granddad’s funeral. A few of the black people who had worked for him for many years asked Granddaddy if they could go to the funeral. He said yes. When they came into the church they sat on the back pew. I still remember people in the next pew getting up and moving. When my grandmother died in the 1980’s the black woman who had worked for them and help her for years sat with the family. Different times.

I still remember the signs over the water fountains / coolers in Washington and other towns, designating them as “White Only” and a few, in out of the way places, marked “Colored Only”. This was one of the rules I always found a little funny having worked on Granddad’s farm. All the people who worked for him where black except me. When we were out in the fields working on a hot day Granddad would bring water out in a gallon glass jug and we would pass it around, everyone drinking out of the same jug. When you left the field the rules changed and you were white and they were colored again.

There were “White Only” signs on all the public bathrooms in the stores and other places. I remember behind “the dime store”, on Main St, in Washington there was a wooden building which was marked “Colored Only” and I was told that was the bathrooms for them.

A lot of the department stores had dining areas but they were for “Whites Only”. You never saw colored people sitting in them. Usually there was one small corner of the counter where they could place a “to go” order but they could not set while they waited. This is one of the reasons these became a target of early civil rights set-ins.

I can remember going to the movies at the Turnage Theater and blacks had to set in one small section in the back of the balcony. This was after they went to a separate entrance marked “Colored Only” to buy there tickets. This was not unusual as there were separate entrances and waiting rooms for “Colored Only” for bus and train stations, doctor’s offices, and hospitals. Almost all public places and businesses were segregated.

When the county fair came to town in the fall you never saw blacks there. During the week long event there was one day designated for the colored people to go and you new not to go on that day.

This all began to slowly change in the late 1960’s but not without issues. There were very vocal people on both sides of the issue voicing their opinion whether right or wrong. When I was around 13 or 14 it was announced Aurora High School would begin partial integration the next school year. I remember this is when the negative talk became the loudest even to the point of a large KKK rally being held in the Aurora area. Times were changing and nothing was going to hold back progress. The next school year Aurora High School was partially integrated.

Even though it only involved approximately 12 black kids coming to our school it was a major change. The kids were all from the Porters Creek area and I had work with some of them on Grand Dad’s farm but I never acknowledge them. I still remember the first day when they came into school and we all look at them wondering what was going to happen especially after seeing all the integration trouble on TV. Thinking back you could see fear in both the black kids and the whites because our world was changing. There were no issues that day and for the next two years. We were fortunate that the change went smoothly unlike some schools.

Then in September of 1968 full integration began. The SW Snowden High School, formerly the colored school, became the elementary school with grades 1 through 6. Aurora High School became the high school with grades 7 through 12. Again there were no real issues. There were a lot of changes in the mindset of many people which had to be made by both sides. Once we fully integrated the white kids became the minority as there were approximately two black students to every one white student. It was different.

Even though the schools were integrated old beliefs and ways held on. I played basketball on the high school team and we went from an all white team to just Craig and I being the only white boys on the team. This made for interesting comments when we played all white, none integrated, schools in the area. One of my good friends from school and basketball was Kelvin. We played ball together for three years and became close friends at practice and at school. I never invited him to my house or ask him to go hangout with my other friends because deep down I was conditioned that this was not done. Old ways are hard to change and I look back with remorse and think how ridiculous those beliefs were.

A lot of people would like to forget about this and erase it from their minds and our history. Yet, it is just that, our history. We need to remember our good times and our bad times, not to dwelling on them but learning from them. History that is forgotten or lost has a way of repeating itself until we learn the truth from it. Slavery, segregation, and the mistreatment of our fellow man needs to be remembered. Teach it to our children so the same mistakes will not be made again.

This too was part of growing up in Aurora NC.

Growing Up In Aurora NC – Basketball Camp 1968

2010-05-26T07:31:00.001-04:00

The other night while sorting old papers in the garage I came across my 1968 Certificate of Attendance to the Campbell College Basketball School. It was the summer between my freshman and sophomore year in high school and several of my friends and I got to attend. I believe there were five of us who went that year but I can only remember 3, Dexter, Craig and myself.

We arrived that Sunday afternoon to registered and get our schedules and room assignments. It was exciting to stay in a real dorm room, now I laugh at that, as I had never been to a camp before. We were giving meal tickets to eat in the college dining hall but I remember the food was terrible but there was lot’s of it.

We got up early each morning to eat breakfast and then we were off to our first of two morning sessions. Campbell College (University now) was small with only one gym so we were bussed to different high school gyms around the area. At each session we would spend our time focusing on one or two skills with the advisors and coaches working with us both in groups and individually. We would meet back at the main campus for lunch and then it was off to the afternoon sessions. By the end of the day you were exhausted and ready for bed.

The staff was made up of college coaches and a lot of college players from around the country, many whom I had watched on TV. Two names really stand out and to me as it was amazing to be in the same gym with them. The head of the camp that year was John Wooden, the head coach for UCLA. It was hard to pay attention to him when you were in awe of the man. I remember him as an encourager when I was at his session, who spent time with each of us, working individually on a skill.

The other name which I still remember clearly from that camp was a college player from LSU, “Pistol Pete” Maravich, the leading scorer of that era, averaging 44 points per game during his college career and later going to the pros. His ball handling skill would still put most of today’s players to shame. Not only did I get personal instructions from him but I got to play in a scrimmage game against him. Well, it wasn’t much of a match-up for him but he tried.

If you look at the attached certificate you can see John Wooden’s autograph on the lower right corner and Pistol Pete’s autograph is on the lower left.

All the staff were great, making the camp informative and fun. I got a lot of tips and learned a lot of drills to practice to help my game but, most of all I had a lot of fun. I met a lot of new people from all over the state and country and made a lot of great memories.

This too was part of growing up in Aurora NC.

Growing Up In Aurora NC – Hangouts

2010-05-21T09:33:00.002-04:00

On a recent visit to North Carolina I went to Aurora and drove past some of my old hangouts where I would meet with friends. Most have changed and you would not recognize them today but back in the late 60’s these were the “social networking sites.”

For years one of the key gathering spots in Aurora was Jones Café, better know as “The Soda Shop.” When we became teenagers we were no different and this became our spot. After school we would walk, bike or drive, depending on our age, to the Soda Shop and grab a booth. I would always order a cherry Mountain Dew made with the original Dew and real cherry juice. Some days we would scrape together enough change and order a larger order of fries. Of course there was always enough change to put in the “Juke Box”.

Another favorite gathering spot was “the trampoline” at Linda Peed’s house. At times there would be ten or more kids there and sometimes we would actually be jumping on it. But, most of time we would just set on it and talk. Often it would be after dark and Mr. Peed would come out and tell us it was time to leave.

When it was just the guys we would go to “the pool hall.” I don’t remember girls ever going there, maybe they did but I only remember the guys. It was a small smoke filled room with 3 pool tables and 1 pinball machine. Up front they served soda pop, snacks and the old men could buy beer and set around and tell tall tales. There was always a crowd waiting for their turn to play a game of pool or play the pinball machine. Thinking back I believe that machine was rigged to “tilt”.

One of my favorite things to do in my free time was to play basketball. There were two main places I would check to find a game, the Broome’s house and the Potter’s house. They both had large concrete driveways with basketball goals on them. Often you could find someone playing.

When all else failed there was one spot I could always find a basketball game, Snowden School. Prior to the 10th grade and integration this was the “colored” school and I remember the first time I rode up to their outdoor court on my bicycle and asked to play. The whole crowd of guys stopped playing and looked at me and probably thought “what is that “cracker” doing here?” They did let me play and after that I would go there whenever I got the chance. I think this helped my game as I had to work harder because it seemed I was constantly getting hit, kicked and/or fouled.

I lived a very active life with working at the Pig (another story), sports and practice, and just hanging out. There was little time for TV and no such thing as a video game; you actually had to make friends.

This too was part of growing up in Aurora NC.

Growing Up In Aurora NC – Cub Scouts

2010-05-18T19:56:00.001-04:00

Last Saturday while cleaning in my garage I came across an old box of memories and found my Pinewood Derby car my Dad and I made for the Pinewood Derby race held in Washington NC in 1962.

I remember when we got the kit and all it contained was a small rectangular block of wood, two pieces of wood grooved for the axle and 4 wheels. Dad cut the block of wood into the basic shape of the car and I sanded it down to a smooth finish. We painted it and put the wheels on. Then Dad helped me get the weight right and we were ready to go. I don’t remember how I did but I do remember having a lot of fun.

Cub Scouts was a great time and I have a lot of good memories of my time in Scouting. Our Scout Pack met in Aurora at the Legion Hut monthly and we had weekly Den meetings at our leader’s homes. We had two Dens and the leaders were Mrs. Mills and Mrs. Windley. I was in Mrs. Windley’s Den.

Mrs. Windley always made the meetings fun and exciting. We would do crafts, play games, and learn the skills in our books in order to advance to a higher level. I always looked forward to the day we had our Den meetings after school.

Monthly we would have our Pack meetings and this was a time for each Den to show off what they had learned. We would demonstrate a skill we had spent the previous month practicing and mastering. This would include skills like knot tying, art and crafts, basic first aid, etc.

Each month one of the Dens would have to put on a skit for our guest and parents. I remember one where we created a “hillbilly jug band”. Again, Dad helped me make my instrument with a piece of wood, a bike horn, a wash board, a frying pan and a hammer. Mom helped me put together my outfit. We were the hit of the meeting.

Part of each meeting was the award ceremony. If you were willing to work hard you could get awards in all kinds of areas. It was always a proud moment to have my mother pin the award on my uniform.

Several times during the year we would go to Washington NC to compete against other Packs from around the county in various Scout Derbies. There was the Kite Derby in which you had to make a homemade kite; mine was out of newspaper and it actual flew. Then there was the Rocket Ship Derby in which you had to whittle a rocket ship from a block of wood, add a rubber band and propeller, and then race along a guide wire. But, the most important race of the year was the Pinewood Derby I described above.

If all of this was not reason enough to be a Cub Scout, the best part was you got to wear a cool uniform and everyone knows girls like a man in uniform. We would wear our uniforms to school, proudly, every day we had a meeting. We continued to do this even as we got older and were in Boy Scouts.

This was a great time in my life and I continued in Scouting when I got to participate as an adult leader when my son Michael was in Cub Scouts and Boy Scouts. I look forward to again helping Michael when his son Joshua gets a little older and puts on the uniform of a proud Cub Scout.

This too was part of growing up in Aurora NC.

Growing Up In Aurora NC – Setting on the Front Steps

2010-05-06T13:34:00.001-04:00

One of the truly exciting things to do when I was growing up in Aurora was to set along the road and watch the cars go by. On a good day when you were lucky you could see one or two every five to ten minutes, small town life is great. In reality what you were doing was dreaming about other places and things, wondering where the cars or trucks had been and were going.

It was especially good when you had a friend you could share your thoughts and dreams with as you sat and watched the world go by. I was very fortunate in that I had several friends like that.

One of them, Pat, lived on Main Street in Aurora and we would often set on her front steps and dream about the future.

We would talk about school, our friends, sports, we both played high school basketball, love and everything going on in our lives. Being active in school there was plenty to talk about. The closer we got to graduation the more our discussions were about future plans even including that boy from the other side of the river.

Another such friend was Craig and we would spend a lot of time discussing our future plans, colleges we would like to attend and places we would like to go. He was always an encourager in the right way and would stand by me in hard times. Even though we have only seen each other a few times since graduation we both know we can call the other at any time to unload on or get a little encouragement and through the years we been there for each other.

Others included Deb M and riding around talking in her Barracuda, Sandy and her advice on girl friends, and Robert my very good friend through out school who we share a lot of adventures, ha ha, together. These were just a few of my close friends that had a positive impact on my life.

Everyone, especially teenagers, need friends they can trust and rely on for encouragement and good advice. I was blessed that I had several such friends.

This too was part of growing up in Aurora NC.

Growing Up In Aurora NC – The Preacher and The Outhouse

2010-05-04T08:04:00.001-04:00

I was thinking about my Grand Momma last night and I remembered a story she use to tell and always had a big laugh each time she told it. Even though I was not there when this occurred it is still worth repeating one more time.

Back in the late 50’s, early 60’s my grandparents still did not have an indoor toilet. If you had to “go” you had to go out back to the outhouse. I can still remember going to the outhouse and Grand Momma telling me to look around before you go in, when I asked her why she told me this story.

In those days Edward Christian Church was a small rural church and often got young preachers fresh out of seminary. This was the case with this one young man who had just started and after one of his first Sundays my grand parents invited him to have lunch with them at their house.

It was summertime and hot so after lunch they sat out on the back porch where there was a cool breeze and drank tea and chatted. After a while the young man asked where the bathroom was and Grand Daddy told him the outhouse was out back of the smokehouse. In Grand Momma words he had a strange, surprised look on his face, but did not say a word and headed out to the toilet.

After a short time, time enough for him to get settled in the outhouse, my grand parents said they heard the loudest, most terrifying scream they had ever heard. When they look up the young man was running to the house, pulling his pants up while he ran and looking white as a sheet.

When he finally calmed down he told Grand Dad while he was sitting there he look down in front of the other seat, yes they had a two seater, and saw the biggest snake he had ever seen. Grand Dad went out and killed the snake and said it was one of the biggest rattlesnakes he had seen in a long time.

Needless to say this young pastor did not come back to lunch for a long time if ever.

But, back to Grand Momma’s warning. In the heat of the summer snakes will often look for the coolest place to rest in the afternoon and the outhouse was one of the coolest places on the farm. So if you ever have to use an outhouse ALWAYS look around and see who else may be using the seat next to you.

This too was part of growing up in Aurora NC.

Growing Up In Aurora NC – Date Night

2010-04-29T07:35:00.001-04:00

A few Saturdays ago Sara ask me what I wanted to do and I responded let’s go to the movies. This got me to thinking about Sara and me dating back in high school.

Dating back in high school wasn’t as simple as kids today think. For me date night was Saturday as I usually had a game on Friday night, either Football or Basketball. It started at school on Tuesday when I would ask her “out”. Even though we were “going steady” I would still ask her out every Tuesday. I made the mistake of not asking one week and took it for granted that we had a date and that Saturday when I went to pick her up I learned not to make that error in judgment again.

When I was not at school or practice I worked at the Piggly Wiggly as a bag boy to make date money. This was to cover gas, food, movie tickets and any other cost. The boy paid for everything, there was no going Dutch as is often the case today.

Saturday afternoon was spent preparing for the night. I would detail the family car both inside and out. You would pay a small fortune to have the quality of work and time I would put into cleaning that car. Dad has often said one of the things he missed about me leaving home was how his car was always keep spotless at least once per week.

If the date was to a movie it was not like today where you go to one Cineplex and have a choice of 20+ movies to pick from. There were two towns both approximately 25 miles away that had movie theaters, Washington had one walk-in and a drive-in and New Bern had 2 walk-ins and a drive-in. You had to plan in advance where you were going and you did not have a computer to check what was playing. We got the Washington newspaper and that made that easy to check but if nothing good was in Washington I had to call Uncle Bill and Aunt Abby who got the New Bern newspaper to see what was playing there.

As the time approached the next step was the personal hygiene. Shower, shave, blowing the hair dry, etc were a must and took more time than I want to admit. Then adding just the right amount of cologne was always a challenge and for me it was Brut.

The next step was clothes and they had to be perfect. I guess my style was preppy especially for a date. The pants had to be creased perfectly and the shirts had to have just the right amount of starch in them, yes I said starch. How Mom ever put up with me and my requirements I will never know, I guess I was a momma’s boy. Next was the shoes and I would polish and shine them each week prior to getting dressed. I am reminded of the quote Will Smith made in the movie “Men In Black” when he said “I make this look good.” Yes I am still conceited.

I would always try to be at her door precisely on time. I would go up to her door and meet her. There was none of this sitting in the driveway and honking the horn like I have seen today. Generally you had to meet the parents of your date and actually speak with them before leaving.

After the movie we would usually go to Hardee’s and get a burger and fries or a milk shake. Hardee’s was the place to go after the movie’s and people would just drive around and around and around the parking lot. It was to place to be seen and to see.

After that we would head home, maybe straight maybe not. Remember there were 25 miles of country roads and woods between the towns and Aurora. Oh Well, enough said about that.

When I would take Sara up to her door, making sure I was on time, I could count on one thing happening every week. The porch light would come on, the door would fly open and her Dad, Jack, would yell out “Pizza Time” Every week he would have, hot out of the oven, a couple of Chef Boyardee pizza covered in extra cheese and pepperoni ready for us to eat. I would stay there another hour or so eating pizza and laughing with her family. Through out his life Jack always love pizza and we shared a lot of great times over a good pizza pie.

Dating Sara was always fun and we still enjoy going out to a good movie and then having pizza. Now we go out to a pizzeria to eat, but I can still hear and see Jack standing in the doorway yelling “Pizza Time.”

This too was part of growing up in Aurora NC.

The Birthday Party and The Swing

2010-04-23T08:40:00.002-04:00

As I set here thinking about my upcoming birthday and remembering all the birthdays that have past I am reminded of a birthday party I had when I was 4.

We lived in the little white house in Edward next to Durham Creek. I only have a few memories of this house and this party was one of them. Mom had cooked a cake and had everything decorated. For me it was a big party.

I remember a lot of people being there and can recall some of the kids’ names. My friends Mack Parker, Al Stilley, Billy Bonner, and Hank Bland were there. The five of us were very close growing up. There also were my cousins, Taffy Hollowell and Bob Cayton. My friends Robbie and Bobbie Roberts were there as well as others.

There were lots of presents but the main present that I got that year was a big swing set. Dad put it together in the front yard because there was no backyard at this house. I remember everyone love it and played on it all day. I also remember I could not get on it because all my friends would not let me, I guess the parents were to busy being parents and not paying attention.

And then it happened.

I must have got mad and decided in my 4 year brain to take action so I ran toward the swing just in time for Taffy, who was on a downward swing, to meet me. The corner of the wood seat caught me in the mouth and there was blood everywhere.

No wonder I have a dislike for birthdays.

Oh Well! This too is just another part of “Growing up in Aurora, NC.”

Growing Up In Aurora NC – The Yearbook

2010-04-19T09:47:00.000-04:00

The other night I was feeling nostalgic so I pulled out my high school yearbooks and started reading the comments people had written in them. Most of them fall into one of these categories.

Several were very encouraging and motivational. This type was best represented by the comment of one of my favorite teachers, Mrs. Downing. Most of it was the usual “you can do anything you set you mind to” and “you have the whole future ahead of you.” I remember when I first read it that I felt something different about it in that I felt she really believed it. Reading it again has brought back that same feeling of confidence and knowledge that my whole life is before me and I CAN do anything I set my mind to.

Other comments were about friendship. Most of my comments fell into this category. One of the neat things about going to Aurora High School was that I had been in class with most of my friends for many years and some for all twelve. There was a feeling of sincerity in their comments even though most were extremely corny. But, I cherish each one and enjoy reading them.

The third group was just plain funny. Some were written by friends who just wanted to be clowns and some were written by people who wanted to take a cheap shot at me. Either way I get a big laugh out of them every time read them.

The last group of comments falls into the category of “What the hell are they talking about.” These are the comments about events or things I can not remember. I guess these memories where attached to the brain cells that have died over the years. Some I wish I could remember, while others I probably should be glad I can not remember. I did not include examples of these.

Looking at the old pictures and reading the comments is a great way to reminisce, to laugh, to miss, and mostly to celebrate your youth. Go now and pull out your yearbooks and remember the good times.

But, the important thing is this too is part of Growing Up in Aurora NC.

Growing Up In Aurora NC – The Sock

2010-03-31T10:06:00.001-04:00

The other day I was watching a scary movie on TV, one of those cheesy slice and dice movies, when my 3 year old grandson came in. I changed the channel so he could not see it. Some may ask why but I know some memories and images stick with you forever.

Back when I was around seven I remember one night we heard there was a bad wreck out on NC 33 west of Edward. Dad decided he would ride out to see what happened. I pitched a fit to go and over Mom’s objections Dad took me but I had to stay in the truck.

When we got there in the middle of all the flashing lights and people I could see a semi tractor trailer loaded with potatoes had gone around the curve to fast and rolled over onto a pickup truck. The pickup was totally flatten like you see at a junk yard.

Dad got out of the truck and told me to stay and not to leave the truck. Well that was not going to work because I could see nothing from where we had to park so I got out and walked over to the wreck.

At first there was nothing to see but the trailer lying on top of the pickup which was smashed like an accordion. When I walked around to other side of the truck Dad saw me and yelled for me to leave as he came running over, but it was too late.

I remember seeing only one thing other than the truck and to this day I can vividly remember it in detail. Sticking out of the crushed metal was a sock. It had blue and white strips. When I looked again I realized there was a foot in that sock.

Dads, be careful what you allow your children to see especially in this graphic world of video games, gruesome movies and news reporting that shows every detail of a story that no one needs to know. With an impressionable mind you never know when something is going to be imprinted on a child’s brain.

I realize this was not a cheerful story as most of my stories are but this too is a part of Growing Up in Aurora NC.

Growing Up In Aurora NC-Exploring Durham Creek

2010-03-25T10:59:00.001-04:00

When I think back to growing up one of the best summers was when I spent almost every Sunday afternoon, after church, with my friend Billy at the Bonner’s cabin on Durham Creek.

Mrs. Dorothy would fix lunch and Mr. Billy would warn us to be careful and then it was off to explore the world, or at least the creek.

The Bonner’s had a boat and Billy was allowed to use it and this became our means of exploration. We would travel all over the creek stopping to go ashore ever so often to explore the woods.

If we got hot we would stop and go swimming. I still remember the black water was so dark you could not see anything underwater and the bottom was thick gray mud. I did not think anything of it as I had never been in a crystal clear pool. It was the way things were and the funny thing was we never got sick from it.

If we got tired of the water Billy had a small Honda motorcycle and we would ride it through trails we cut in the woods.

We spent all afternoon on the go, never slowing down. In the late afternoon / early evening Mr. Billy would drive me to my grand parents’ house which was only a few miles away and I would stay there for most of the week and help work on the farm.

Instead of the “Adventures of Tom Sawyer and Huck Finn” this was the “Adventures of Billy Bonner and Larry Gray.” Mainly it is just another fun memory of “Growing Up in Aurora NC.”

Growing Up In Aurora NC - Footprints In The Sand

2010-03-17T16:33:00.001-04:00

Today I came across one of my all time favorite poems. I remember the first time I saw the poem was at my grand mama’s house, sitting with her while she read the Bible. It was on a well worn piece of faded paper stuck in her large Bible.

When I asked her about the poem she told me to always remember it and know God was always there with me in bad times as well as good.

Footprints in the Sand

One night I dreamed I was walking along the beach with the Lord.

Many scenes from my life flashed across the sky.

In each scene I noticed footprints in the sand.

Sometimes there were two sets of footprints,

other times there were one set of footprints.

This bothered me because I noticed

that during the low periods of my life,

when I was suffering from

anguish, sorrow or defeat,

I could see only one set of footprints.

So I said to the Lord,

"You promised me Lord,

that if I followed you,

you would walk with me always.

But I have noticed that during

the most trying periods of my life

there have only been one

set of footprints in the sand.

Why, when I needed you most,

you have not been there for me?"

The Lord replied,

"The times when you have

seen only one set of footprints in the sand,

is when I carried you."

Mary Stevenson

This is just another part of growing up in Aurora NC.

Growing Up In Aurora NC – My First Day of School

2010-03-12T07:23:00.000-05:00

My 3 year old grandson was telling me about his day at daycare and it got me thinking about going into the first grade at Aurora High School.

Back then we did not have pre-school or kindergarten so when you started school you started in the first grade. Also, in Aurora there was only the one school and you went to that school from the first grade through the twelfth grade. See my earlier installment entitled “Aurora High School”.

It was an exciting day for me and the beginning of all new adventures. Mom and I had gone shopping and I had new clothes and new shoes for that special day. She had also bought me a book bag that looked like a miniature briefcase. I remember it because it was red and had my name embossed in gold lettering on it. I was ready to go.

My teacher was Miss Maybelle Beacham and I thought she was the greatest and the scariest person I had ever known. She kept order in that room and used whatever punishment she deemed appropriate without fear of the students or parents.

One of the things I remember is learning to read using the Dick and Jane series of books. Who could ever forget those great passages “See Dick. See Dick run.” or “See Jane. See Jane run.” And, especially the immortal classic, “See Spot. See Spot run. Run Spot run.” A true beginning of a long love of reading.

Another amazing fact of life I discovered in the first grade was there were girls in this world. Within the first day I was engaged to be married to Dianna Hollowell, the girl of my dreams (for that day at least). Before the end of the first month I was engaged to every girl in my class and some twice. We would often enjoy fine dining at our special place, the school lunchroom. I guess I was a real player even at that age. LOL

I always enjoyed going to school and even today I like learning and trying new things.

This too was part of Growing Up In Aurora NC.

Growing Up In Aurora NC – Saturday Mornings With Dad

2010-03-02T08:17:00.001-05:00

I was on Facebook today and came upon a group for Bill’s Hot Dogs in Washington NC and memories of my Dad and I eating there in the early 1960’s came flooding back.

Back then Dad worked for Beaufort Equipment Company as a mechanic and later in the Parts Department. He would work Monday through Friday and then a half day on Saturday. When I was young I would often go to work with him on Saturday morning. There was always something fun to do and it brings back a lot of good memories.

Some Saturdays Dad would take me to the Turnage Theater, which often had Saturday morning kid movies. Back then you could let your children go to movies and not worry as much as you do today. With around 25¢ to get in and 10¢ for a drink and popcorn you had a couple of hours of great entertainment.

On other Saturdays I would go on equipment deliveries with Mr. Snows sons. This was always fun. I got to travel all over the area and at times I got to ride on the new tractors and harvesters. We would often stop at a little country store on the way and get a Coke and a pack of Nabs. It is amazing how filling a couple of crackers and a 6 oz. Coke can be. Now you have to have 32 oz’s. No wonder this country now has an obesity problem.

Almost every Saturday, when Dad got off, we would go to Bill’s Hot Dogs for lunch. When I think back to that time the hot dogs tasted better than they do today. Maybe it is because we didn’t take going out to eat for granted because it was a treat, especially when it was ME and my DAD.

This was all part of my Growing Up In Aurora NC.