July Fish Fry
Plenty Of Hot Weather
For the past
eight years, Ridge Rider News, has held some sort of event to celebrate
it’s June anniversary. The first event was actually on Memorial Day
weekend, and the year we moved to our present home on Dogwood Circle, we
delayed the celebration until December, when we held a Christmas Open House.
However, the rest of the time we have celebrated in July.
In 2001 party attendance reached a record high 134. The following year we
entertained 120, our second highest attended event. This year we tied the
2002 mark. I think it’s accurate to state that this past Saturday’s
fish fry holds the record for the hottest of them all, with area temperatures
at least 97 degrees and heat indices reportedly above 112 degrees.
The oppressive heat and humidity did not stop guests from enjoying themselves.
As usual, the fried fish and special hushpuppies made by Lee Gordon were
great. Also, Anson Adams grilled thirty or so catfish fillets that were highly
praised by the diet-conscious crowd. And, the desserts that several guests
provided were truly fabulous. But, I shouldn’t tell the whole story.
Instead, let me share what JoAnne Bradley wrote in her news column in our
local newspaper, The Pontotoc Progress:
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For a number of years Wayne Carter has published the Ridge Rider News and
also for a number of years he, Barbara and their family have entertained
readers of his publication with an annual fish fry. Much planning goes into
this event and those who know Wayne and Barbara know they go all out to make
everyone welcome.
This year Jerry and I were invited and made plans to attend. The weather
was agreeable by not raining, but the temperature was about as hot as summer
can get in Mississippi. However, that did not keep a large crowd from gathering.
Wayne’s sister, Sarah, greeted guests and passed out the name tags.
The cooks worked in the hot weather frying many pounds of filleted catfish,
potatoes, and hush puppies to go along with the slaw and other condiments
as well as iced tea and water.
Wayne’s brother Fred, had come up from Lakeland, Fla., along with his
wife and son. Fred and his son entertained the group. I chose to sit inside
most of the time because of the temperature and my breathing problems. My
classmate and long-time friend, Ginger and Bing Crausby were seated at the
kitchen table where Jerry and I joined them.
Ginger and I talked and had a good time as we watched people come and go
from the outside into the cool kitchen and on to the dining room where the
table was heavily laden with wonderful desserts, too many choices, to go
along with freezers of home-made ice cream, including peach.
Wayne and Barbara’s cute little four-year-old granddaughter, Katherine,
came into the kitchen and sat at the bar.
We really laughed as she asked, "Who put okra in my hushpuppy?"
We told her perhaps it was green onion and only when her grandfather told
her it was celery did she believe him.
At times talking and laughter made the kitchen area rather loud, so she said,
"That baby in the living room doesn’t like noise."
Jerry and I thought Katherine seemed to have the same dry wit that Wayne
has always had. Wayne and Barbara, also, have two more pretty granddaughters,
Anna and Merilese. The heat at one point drove Fred in where he sat and talked
to us. He told of those with Pontotoc connections that he had run into down
in Florida and one of them was Jim Sneed at a furniture show and the other
was Eliam Carter, Jr. I told him I had not seen Jim in a long time and I
would not know Eliam, Jr., but I knew his parents.
The cooks all wore khaki-colored aprons with Ridge Rider embroidered on them
as gifts from Wayne.
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JoAnne finished writing about the fish fry by mentioning seeing Mr. Raymond
and Miss Sue Montgomery at our house and quoted a portion of the Baked Snake
article from a recent issue of RRN. Factually speaking, she was mostly accurate
in her reporting and that which is incorrect is nothing to fret over. I sincerely
appreciated her comments.
JoAnne was right about the amount of planning that goes into our annual event,
but without the help of friends, we couldn’t pull it off. Those who
help with cooking, setup and takedown of tables, and chairs, decorating,
and cleanup are invaluable to us.
Jason helped setup the canopies in our backyard as well as with their takedown.
As we dismantled the canopies on Monday afternoon, he declared we were not
going to have a celebration in July next year. Perhaps, we won’t, if
Lee Gordon and Jim Hess can arrange to do the fish frying during a cooler
time of the year. But, if they can’t, I’m betting Jason will have
forgotten how hot it was this year.
In addition to those previously mentioned, RRN wishes to thank Lee Gordon
and Jim Hess for handling the fish-frying responsibilities and those who
assisted, Bobby Davis, Mickey Gentry, Jason Gordon, Joel Hale, and Jim Mogridge.
Thanks also go to Ashley and Christy Butler, Jason Carter, Charles Austin,
Neal Huskison, and Sam Dowdy for helping with the setup and takedown of tables
and chairs.
Thank you Sarah, for handling the name-badge chore and helping Rayanne with
the patio pavers and outdoor decorating. Thank you Rayanne for the indoor
arrangements.
Thanks, too, for the patio furniture loaned by the Weatherlys, the Huskisons
and the Bells.
Thanks Barbara, for all that you did in keeping our household sane during
the trials of the week and for lining up persons to repair the broken water
pipe, and Jason’s air conditioner.
Thanks to all our entertainers: Fred and Bobby, Jason, and Anna.
Finally, thanks to all who attended the fish fry. You play the important
role of making our annual event a success.
Reading History
Miss Callie Picks Several
It was either a Saturday evening or Sunday evening when Miss Callie Young
phoned to ask me about helping her with a program for the Pontotoc County
Historical Society. Miss Callie is spearheading a project to compile a book
of historical articles contributed by local authors. The book will be published
and sold by the historical society, and a number of folks have helped with
the compilation, but one can be sure that without Miss Callie’s leadership
and prodding there wouldn’t be a book entitled, "Folk Tales, Facts and
Fabulations."
"I think it would be nice to have several men read something they’ve
written about Pontotoc’s history. I know you have written several articles
that could be used. Why don’t you pick one and read it next Thursday
night (July 14) at the regular meeting of the Historical Society," she urged.
I thought of a lot of reasons why the nights Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday
would not work for me, but as I remembered my work schedule for the week,
I recalled that Thursday would finish my work week, as I planned to begin
a vacation the next day to begin all the last minute chores in preparing
for the July 23rd fish fry.
"I suppose, I could do that," I responded. "What time is the meeting, and
where is it?"
"It’ll be at the Library at seven o’clock," she stated.
Since Miss Callie was familiar with a number of my historical articles, I
asked if there was one she might suggest for me to use.
"Oh, I can think of several," she replied. "The one you wrote about the pool
hall was really good, and of course my favorite is Long Long Eggo, but you
might want to use a different one."
I recognized both of them as articles Miss Callie had asked permission to
use in the book mentioned above. We talked for a few more minutes, and I
thanked her for the invitation and committed to choosing an article and reading
it before members of the historical society.
After rereading several articles from past newsletters, I finally settled
on the pool hall article, but I didn’t practice read it until the day
of the historical society’s program. I had written the pool hall article
at the beginning of January 2002, and while I remembered practically every
word, I found the practice-reading was helpful, as I would have likely stumbled
over a few phrases, had I not read the article aloud at home.
As I try to do for any meeting or appointment, I arrived fifteen minutes
early for the program but found little time to get nervous or anxious about
reading before a group, for there were plenty of familiar faces to greet
and more arriving with each passing minute. For a while, it appeared the
room would be completely filled, and by seven o’clock only a handful
of seats remained vacant.
Joyce Rackley Odom presided over the meeting in the absence of president
Jimmy Roberts. Like most civic groups, the historical society follows the
routine of calling the meeting to order, reading of minutes of the last meeting,
considerations of old business and new business, all before introducing the
person in charge of the evening’s program. I could have done without
such formalities, but then I was anxious for the program to begin.
When Miss Callie was called upon to present the program, I learned her first
few choices of men had turned down the opportunity to read one of their
historical manuscripts, and while I wondered how far down the list I had
originally been, I didn’t dwell on the matter. Instead, I concentrated
on the list of persons whom she named for the evening’s program. Apparently
Miss Callie couldn’t line up enough men-folks and added three women
to the list. After she completed reading the list, she announced the readers
would participate in alphabetical order, and since I was the second reader
named, I knew I wouldn’t have any problem remembering my turn.
As folks were mingling prior to the meeting, I noticed several individuals
holding one or two sheets, which I presumed were their personal remembrances.
I had considered doing the same thing, but had instead brought all of the
2002 issues of Ridge Rider News in a ring binder, which I left on a table
near the speaker’s podium. When it was my turn to read, I walked to
the front of the room, picked up the thick binder and laid it heavily on
the podium.
"Miss Callie didn’t tell me this was supposed to be short," I joked,
as most folks laughed.
I was about to continue, when I heard Miss Callie comment, "I did too!"
Having broken the ice, I mentioned the story I was about to read first appeared
in my newsletter in January of 2002. After naming the article, I begin to
read with as much emphasis as I could muster and with what I hoped was enough
clarity for everyone. From time to time, I made eye contact with the audience
long enough to gauge their reaction to my underground pool hall memory, and
I could see that they were enjoying it. The applause as I returned to my
seat was gratifying, too.
Having been an early participant in the program, I was able to relax and
enjoy the readings of those who followed me. I should have taken notes as
to who read what, but I didn’t. While I remember bits and pieces of
several stories and the names of most everyone who participated, I’ll
mention only two.
Floyd McCullough grew up just down the hill from the Courthouse Square on
East Marion Street in the area commonly referred to as "Happy Hollow." Floyd
shared several childhood remembrances of friends and neighbors of yesteryear
and of numerous happy times sledding down the hill when the occasional winter
snow was sufficient for such an activity.
Floyd recalled how as a small child his mother sent him to town to the grocery
store for a few items and gave him a penny to spend on himself.
"Instead of buying a penny piece of candy or gum, I bought a penny box of
matches," Floyd remembered. "I struck about every match on the way home,
throwing some of them in the dry grass of a vacant field. Not long after
I got home, almost the whole neighborhood was out fighting the fire. I must
have been a bad influence on my playmate, Malvin Baldwin, for he did the
same thing with a different field a couple of months later."
Floyd also described the wilderness of trees and vines that surrounded the
football field area, calling it "The Hollow." I remember how it looked when
I started grade six, and even then it was a place I wouldn’t enter by
myself.
Claude Jones also recalled a childhood experience, one with his brothers
and a friend. Claude remembered it being one of those lazy, hazy days of
summer (not his words) that lends itself to homemade fun and entertainment.
Claude’s group trekked to a nearby railroad trestle that crossed a large
creek. He told of the fun they had "borrowing" watermelons and cantaloupes
from someone’s truck patch, cooling them in a shaded area of the creek,
and eating the borrowed fruit for lunch after first enjoying the swimming
hole. At some point the group’s leader supervised the unsuccessful
construction of a dam, but it was all part of the homemade fun that made
for a memorable childhood.
Arguably, parents of today are too overprotective and too prone to provide
their children with store-bought possessions and entertainment than to allow
children opportunities such as those both Claude and Floyd remembered. Perhaps,
generations of parents hence will grasp the importance of homemade playtime,
but that’s too far in the future for me to envision. Meanwhile, memories
shared by those of us who were fortunate to have lived in an altogether different
era will have to suffice until history repeats itself.
Bodock Beau What
My Mother Taught Me
It’s possible you’ve seen the following or that it’s been
previously published in this newsletter, but it remains worthy of your attention.
What My Mother Taught Me
My mother taught me LOGIC... "If you fall off that swing and break your neck,
you can't go to the store with me."
My mother taught me MEDICINE... "If you don't stop crossing your eyes, they're
going to freeze that way."
My mother taught me TO THINK AHEAD... "If you don't pass your spelling test,
you'll never get a good job!"
My mother taught me ESP... "Put your sweater on; don't you think that I know
when you're cold?"
My mother taught me TO MEET A CHALLENGE... "What were you thinking? Answer
me when I talk to you...Don't talk back to me!"
My mother taught me HUMOR... "When that lawn mower cuts off your toes, don't
come running to me."
My mother taught me how to BECOME AN ADULT... "If you don't eat your vegetables,
you'll never grow up.
My mother taught me ABOUT SEX... "How do you think you got
here?"
My mother taught me about GENETICS... "You are just like your
father!"
My mother taught me about my ROOTS... "Do you think you were born in a barn?"
My mother taught me about the WISDOM of AGE... "When you get to be my age,
you will understand."
My mother taught me about ANTICIPATION... "Just wait until your father gets
home."
My mother taught me about RECEIVING... "You are going to get it when we get
home."
And my all time favorite thing--JUSTICE... "One day you will have kids, and
I hope they turn out just like YOU... then you'll see what it's like."
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