What Readers Are Saying About A Boy From Down East



Thanks for the memories! from an NC farm girl

           on March 31, 2014

Format: Kindle Edition

I love the fact that I grew up on a farm and in a farm community. There is no place like home. It is obvious that Larry feels the same. I am envious of his ability to remember and get written down for posterity, all the little things that made it a good childhood. My daddy was born and lived in Aurora also and I knew I'd be able to picture daddy in the scenes that Larry painted and I could and did. As Bob Hope sang "Thanks for the memories."

 

The Best Possible Childhood

           on March 6, 2014

 

Format: Kindle Edition

Larry Gray says that growing up in eastern North Carolina in a small rural community was "the best possible childhood you could wish for." And it would certainly seem so from this loving, gentle and always entertaining memoir. He talks about the joys (and otherwise) of the local library, church, grandmomma's kitchen, basketball camp, the country store and much else. He writes with wit and style, with numerous amusing stories. Highly recommended.

 

 

 

 

An ambitious reflection on the 1950s and 1960s

           on March 5, 2014

 

Format: Kindle Edition

A Boy From Down East is an ambitious reflection on the 1950s and 1960s by Larry B. Gray, with its short chapters and coming-of-age structure. Those who lived during the same era and grew up on farms or in small towns will read through the pages with a warm smile of recognition on their lips. Others, who like me are generations younger or more familiar with city living will find great first-hand history lessons about the times when electronic devices weren’t used as babysitters; when involving children in the family business was considered a way to build character and not child labor; when a secret date behind a haystack only led to a stolen kiss. Though I believe that the world is constantly changing around us and we need to keep up with those changes, I also believe that reflecting on history is very important if we want to live better and learn from the mistakes of the past.

While I was reading the author’s – now a grandfather – very personal recollections about his childhood, I realized how every word a child hears, every action he or she lives through, has a great impact. As a mother of two children, I got myself thinking about how my way of parenting will affect my son and daughter later in life. I’m sure others who pick up this book and read it will do the same.

This is a very positive book; mostly descriptions of lovely memories fill its pages. In a world where the media and our society question the importance of family every day, it was refreshing to see that we parents, who sacrifice, who work hard to create a new generation of productive people, are doing the right thing. Family life does matter and it is very important. A wise and hardworking grandfather, a kind and home-making grandmother, a friendly neighborhood can make a world of difference in a child’s life. For better or for worse, we all have learned something from our close relatives and people with whom we grew up and around. If you don’t have any good examples in front of you, read Mr. Gray’s biography. If you are surrounded with positive influences, you should nevertheless read this book to fill your heart with warmth.

I have received a copy from the author for an honest review.

 

 

 

I Know This Boy

           on February 22, 2014

 

Format: Kindle Edition Amazon Verified Purchase

It is magic to hear the telling of part of your own life. Even if it is a brief portion. This author certainly captured the flavor of times I had a brush with. He fills in gaps and explains things about a real town and real lives, I could "taste" those good old days again. Read this knowing he is real, and the friendships and stories are as well. You will love Aurora too.

 

 

 

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Guest Review of A Boy From Down East: A.B. Whelan's review

A.B. Whelan's review

Mar 04, 14

5 of 5 stars

Read from February 22 to 24, 2014

A Boy From Down East is an ambitious reflection on the 1950s and 1960s by Larry B. Gray, with its short chapters and coming-of-age structure. Those who lived during the same era and grew up on farms or in small towns will read through the pages with a warm smile of recognition on their lips. Others, who like me are generations younger or more familiar with city living will find great first-hand history lessons about the times when electronic devices weren’t used as babysitters; when involving children in the family business was considered a way to build character and not child labor; when a secret date behind a haystack only led to a stolen kiss. Though I believe that the world is constantly changing around us and we need to keep up with those changes, I also believe that reflecting on history is very important if we want to live better and learn from the mistakes of the past.

While I was reading the author’s – now a grandfather – very personal recollections about his childhood, I realized how every word a child hears, every action he or she lives through, has a great impact. As a mother of two children, I got myself thinking about how my way of parenting will affect my son and daughter later in life. I’m sure others who pick up this book and read it will do the same.

This is a very positive book; mostly descriptions of lovely memories fill its pages. In a world where the media and our society question the importance of family every day, it was refreshing to see that we parents, who sacrifice, who work hard to create a new generation of productive people, are doing the right thing. Family life does matter and it is very important. A wise and hardworking grandfather, a kind and home-making grandmother, a friendly neighborhood can make a world of difference in a child’s life. For better or for worse, we all have learned something from our close relatives and people with whom we grew up and around. If you don’t have any good examples in front of you, read Mr. Gray’s biography. If you are surrounded with positive influences, you should nevertheless read this book to fill your heart with warmth.

I have received a copy from the author for an honest review.

 

 

 

 

Kindle: 

 

Click Here to order your Copy of A Boy From Down East from Amazon.com

 

Nook:

Click Here to order your copy of A Boy From Down East from Barnes and Noble


iBooks / iPad:

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All Other E-Versions:
 

No Kindle - No Problem: Click Here to order your e-Version of A Boy From Down East from Smashwords.com

 

 

 

Print - Paperback:

Print copy: Click Here to order your copy of A Boy From Down East from createspace.com.

Print - Paperback:

Order Direct From Author: Book = $8.75 + $.61 Tax + P and H = $4.00 Total $13.36

Email me for details at larrygraysells@live.com






Retailers:

Own a shop or store? Would like to sell A Boy From Down East? Contact me to discuss terms.

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Just Released - A Boy From Down East

 

Just Released

 

 

A Boy From Down East

 

 

by

 

Larry B. Gray

 

 

 

 

 

Growing up in eastern North Carolina in a small rural community during the 1950’s and 1960’s was the best possible childhood you could wish for. Family, church, friends, school, and working on the farm was the center of my world.

 

I have often heard people say ‘if only I could change this or that of my past’ or ‘if only I knew then what I know now.’ I would not change anything because this is what made me who I am today.

 

This is a collection of stories of my childhood. I hope you enjoy reading them as much as I have enjoyed remembering them.

 

 

 

 

Order Your Copy Today

 

 

Kindle: 

 

Click Here to order your Copy of A Boy From Down East from Amazon.com

 

Nook:

Click Here to order your copy of A Boy From Down East from Barnes and Noble


iBooks / iPad:

Click Here to order your copy of A Boy From Down East from iBooks


All Other E-Versions:
 

No Kindle - No Problem: Click Here to order your e-Version of A Boy From Down East from Smashwords.com

 

 

 

Print - Paperback:

Print copy: Click Here to order your copy of A Boy From Down East from createspace.com.

Print - Paperback:

Order Direct From Author: Book = $8.75 + $.61 Tax + P and H = $4.00 Total $13.36

Email me for details at larrygraysells@live.com






Retailers:

Own a shop or store? Would like to sell A Boy From Down East? Contact me to discuss terms.

Email me for details at larrygraysells@live.com

 

 



I Lost a Friend Today

I Lost a Friend Today

I found out today one of my oldest friends died. Henry (Hank) B. Bland was born on July 25, 1953 and died on November 27, 2012 after battling cancer and several other illnesses throughout his life.

Hank was possibly my oldest friend. I cannot remember a time we were not friends growing up in Edward, NC. In some of the pictures I have of us together we were only 3 years old.

Most of our early years were spent living across the street from each other and we spent many hours at the others home. The Bland home in Edward was one of the first places I where I was allowed to go alone. We spent most days playing together and exploring our world.

We had our own little gang which included Hank, Billy, Al and I. Edward was a very small town and we were it. We played together, went to church together, and rode the bus to school together. We had lots of adventures together.

One of those adventures occurred after church one night. As I said 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 yards long. I remember going to church with 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 am not sure about the other guys but that 100 yard walk was on the longest walks I have ever taken. That should have been a short distance, but it seemed 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 always took the short cut through the woods, I guess we earned our badge.

At first my friends and I only played at each other’s houses, but as we got older and braver we ventured out into the area. Behind Hank’s house was an old abandoned barn. This soon became our clubhouse and our base of operations from which we explored deeper and deeper into the woods. Finally around age 1o or 11 we began exploring the creek and for the next couple of years Hank and I had many great adventures along the banks of Durham Creek.

Hank and I started school together in the fall of 1959 at Aurora High School and for the next 12 years we went to the same school building. I remember how it was so great riding the school bus with the big kids and we felt grown up. We were lucky that there were a couple of “High School” girls who kept an eye on us. Thanks Miriam and Deanna, Hank’s sister.

One Christmas day Hank’s sister Deanna took us to the movies in Washington at the Turnage Theater. The movie Swiss Family Robinson had just come out and we got to see it that first week.

Hank was part of the group that went with me to be on the Romper Room TV show in Greenville, NC on WNCT. We both worked hard back then to be good Do Bees.

After high school I got married and moved to Florida and only saw Hank a few times. He came to Florida for a visit once and we talked for a long while about old times. On several occasions I saw Hank when I went back to North Carolina for a visit, but these times became rarer and rarer.

Even though we had grown apart, separated by time and distance, it is hard to lose an old friend of almost 60 years. I will miss Hank and the world has changed now that he is gone. I know he suffered many illnesses in his adult life but I also can rest assured he is resting peacefully now in the arms of God.

A joy I have today thinking about Hank is all the great times and memories we had together. He was and still is a great friend.

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

 




 

Date Night III - Raleigh

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.

A Boy From Down East - A Trip to the Tobacco Market

Growing up I went 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 vividly remember the smells and sounds of the market. 

                                                                                   
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 sale. 

Several years ago when I worked 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. 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. Usually Granddaddy and a couple of the other local small farmers would get together, 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 many local tobacco markets in eastern North Carolina. When they opened Granddaddy would listen intently during lunch time to the market reports on the radio and read the reports 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 got up before sunrise the next morning and loaded the truck with cured, sorted tobacco and off we went.  We had to get there early because we 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 we arrived and checked in we were given a lot number for our 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 began moving down the rows of tobacco and hesitating, not stopping, at each lot and never missing a beat of his bidding song.  The buyers followed 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 wrote 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 paid him on the spot.

There is one particular trip to the market that sticks out in my mind and Momma still gets a little aggravated every time it comes up.  I was around 5 or 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 doctor’s office, 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 was not the smartest thing to do.  As soon as I got home I ran as fast as I could and told Momma all the fun I had that day in every detail.  I have never seen my Momma 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.

A Boy From Down East – Segregation

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.