| December 09 '06 |
|
| Volume 549 |
|
Pennington Oaks
Tuscaloosa Trip - Part One
Richard Pennington and I worked together
for a number of years in Indianola, and we survived several changes that
resulted in lost jobs in management in the Indianola division of SUPERVALU.
Almost eight years have transpired since any of my family paid a visit to
Richard and Jane Pennington. I would have guessed six or less, but according
to a January 1998 issue of RRN, Barbara, Lillie Belle, Sarah, Felicia, and
I made a trek to Greensboro, Alabama to visit the Penningtons not long after
they moved from Greenville, Mississippi back to Richard and Jane’s home
state.
It’s cliché to say there’s been a lot of water under the
bridge since then, but it’s true. Caught in the midst of a corporate
downsizing, Richard was forced to retire. He and Jane sold their beautiful
antebellum home in Greensboro and relocated to Tuscaloosa in order to care
for Jane’s elderly mother, Vera Marshall. They moved into Miss Vera’s
house, the one that Jane’s father built, largely unassisted, during
an eight-year period.
Jane and Richard have had various surgeries since living in Tuscaloosa, which
only added to their already full wagons. They have tried to make it to a
Ridge Rider fish fry for the past several years, but something always happened
at the last minute to keep them away.
For at least the past four years, maybe more, my family has attempted to
find a weekend to visit the Penningtons in Tuscaloosa. Until this summer,
Sarah’s part-time job at the hospital hindered any long range plans
for our making a return trip to visit Richard and Jane. After Sarah accepted
a full time position, I sent Richard and Jane a note stating our desire to
visit them, "prior to winter."
In early November, Richard phoned to tell me that he and Jane would be moving
again, and if my bunch still wanted to see their home in Tuscaloosa, we’d
better do so soon, as the move was scheduled the week after Thanksgiving.
I took detailed notes of Richard’s directions to find the Marshall estate
in Tuscaloosa, and announced to my family the urgency of our deciding on
a date for our Tuscaloosa trip.
"Well, I’ll be tied up with The Feeding of the Five Thousand
the second Saturday in November," Barbara stated.
"I’ll be cleaning my house on the 18th" Sarah shared.
"That only leaves the Saturday after Thanksgiving," I bemoaned. "That’s
going to cut things close, especially with Richard and Jane trying to get
everything packed for the move."
Still, I was leaning toward the eighteenth, until Richard told me that was
the day of the Iron bowl, the Alabama and Auburn football game.
"Traffic is awful on game days," Richard stated. "We plan to take y’all
to a nice restaurant, and that will be impossible with so many people here
for the football game. Plus, I’ve been asked to sing at our church that
Sunday, and I’ve got a rehearsal and another meeting, both Saturday
morning."
Mutually, we agreed the following Saturday, November 25th would
be better, but when I mentioned the date to Sarah, she stated that Brett
and Kathy might still be in Pontotoc, and she was unsure she could commit
to the trip.
"However, I do want to see the waterfall that Jane’s daddy built when
he was seventy-four years old," she pined, remembering photographs that Richard
had sent us earlier this year.
It was a hard decision for Sarah, but I think she chose wisely. After all,
she will see her family several times in the coming months, but we only had
one weekend opportunity to see the Penningtons before their move to Eufaula,
Alabama.
We left Pontotoc around nine o’clock Saturday morning and arrived at
Pennington Oaks in Tuscaloosa almost exactly two and one-half hours later.
After exiting Hwy. 82, we had no trouble navigating the several turns that
led us to the Pennington’s home, which is located at the end of the
access road to the land belonging to the Marshall family.
Pennington Oaks was the name of the Pennington’s home in Tuscaloosa.
Richard and Jane had someone fashion an attractive marker from iron when
they were in Greensboro, and they used it for their home in Tuscaloosa, also.
Pennington Oaks, Tuscaloosa, was nestled on a ridge of wooded land not far
from the Black Warrior River.
The driveway led us around back, where we were soon greeted by the smiling
faces of Richard and Jane and ushered into their home. A great deal of packing
had been done, and only larger pieces such as their antique bookcase, antique
dining room suite, and several couches and chairs remained as visible reminders
of a "work in progress." After quickly touring the roomy ranch-style house,
we opted to see the waterfall before eating lunch.
"The best way to get down there," Richard advised, "is to use these golf
carts. You can drive one of these can’t you?"
"I’m sure I can," I replied.
"You and Barbara can go in this one, and Jane and Sarah can take the other
one. I’ll ride on the back of theirs."
We followed a winding path that included a couple of hairpin turns and were
soon riding alongside Hurricane Creek. No one had to tell us when we got
to the falls, but Richard did so anyway.
The waterfall was as impressive as the photos
led us to believe, and not because of its height, which may be less than
twenty feet, but more likely it was the setting as a whole that contributed
to our sense of awe and inspiration. Richard pointed to the large bolder
at the base of the falls that is perhaps five feet above the water in the
creek.
"See those flat stones on top of that boulder. Jane's daddy laid all of those
by hand," he shared. "He got some men who were working at the gas well on
the top of the hill to use their heavy equipment to roll down those boulders,
the ones you see on the left side of the falls, all the way from the top
of the hill. The men told him they would probably just roll in the creek,
but you can see where the first one, the big one, stopped. They just rolled
the rest of them on top of it. Mr. Marshall diverted the stream while he
laid the stones to create the falls."
I was about to ask about the steel cable stretched from a nearby tree across
the creek to a point among the boulders above and to the right of the waterfall,
but Richard sensed my curiosity and stated, "Jane's dad rigged that so he
could cross the creek to check on his gas well. He harnessed a saddle beneath
that pulley and used a rope to pull himself across the creek. However, he
forgot about a brake system, and when he rode it back to this side he slammed
into the tree. This was all after he built the waterfall. He took down the
saddle, and that was the last time he crossed by cable."
Even though the fall foliage
was well beyond its peak period, the hillsides surrounding us were quite
interesting. Rock outcroppings abounded, and there was a section of non-native
bamboo on the other side of the creek. Behind where we stopped to view the
falls was a large picnic area. Wooden beams supported a concrete slab that
formed the top of a picnic table that must have been close to fifty-feet
long, and a large barbecue pit was just a short distance away.
"We had a lot of youth from our church out here this summer," Richard explained.
"That pit got a lot of use. We told the ministers they could use place this
for meetings as they saw fit, and we had several folks baptized in front
of the falls."
A much larger barbecue pit was also nearby. It was an open pit, constructed
of concrete blocks and lined with firebricks. It was perhaps forty feet long,
about five feet wide, and four feet high. Jane shared how it had once been
used to barbecue enough chicken to feed twenty-three hundred people. Jane
remembers that workers cut hickory saplings and lay them inside the pit and
covered the poles with hundreds of pounds of charcoal.
"My husband, at the time [not Richard], may have accidentally started the
fire the night before, we don't really know, but he was the only one who
smoked. We believe he either tossed a match or a burning cigarette into the
pit as everyone left for the day. The next morning the pit had burned down
to nothing, and we had to start all over. We used metal bread racks to hold
the chicken, and just when the cooking got underway it started to rain. Daddy
was building a shed back up the hill and had enough tin roofing to lay over
the pit. When the rain dripped off the tin onto the coals, steam rose and
tenderized the chicken. Folks who were here that day still claim that was
the best barbecue chicken they ever ate."
The thoughts of delicious barbecue triggered our internal clocks, which reminded
us it was time to eat.
To be continued…
Decoration Day
Saturday - December 02, 2006
For several years we’ve made an attempt to get up our Christmas decorations,
both outside and inside on the weekend following Thanksgiving Day. Our daughter
loves to direct this work effort, and she had arranged to be off work, that
day and planned to bring along her husband, too, until she learned we had
plans to go to Tuscaloosa that Saturday.
"You can go with us, Rayanne," I offered. "We can crowd into your van or
go in two vehicles."
"Naw, we’ll stay home; anyway, you won’t stop when we need to go
to the bathroom, and when you do you complain."
"I’ll be good this time, if y’all want to go," I acquiesced.
No amount of persuasion would suffice, so the decoration plans were postponed
for a week. I really didn’t mind, because Thanksgiving fell earlier
in the month than normal. Personally, I think we all try to rush the Christmas
season, and I could easily go back to the way we once did and wait until
a week or two before Christmas to put up a tree.
Since I’ve arranged my work schedule to be off the last seven Fridays
of the year, I had time to mulch all the leaves in my yard on the first of
December and, with Barbara’s help, got all the Christmas boxes down
from the attic on Saturday morning.
Rayanne, Merilese, and Katherine arrived shortly after lunch Saturday. Rayanne
hollowed out a spot in the living room for the Christmas tree and started
putting it together before waiting on Anna and Shane to arrive and finish
hanging the branches and lights.
"Daddy, let’s work on the outside," she suggested. "Have you got any
garland?"
"Why?" I asked, because we had only used ribbons and wreaths for most of
our years in Dogwood Circle.
"I want to use garland to trim the big window of the front bedroom," she
replied.
Of course, once I found the garland,
Rayanne needed a nail or screw to fasten it in place. My masonry nails were
no where to be found, so I tried drilling into the masonry with all-purpose
drill bits. I didn’t break any, but I managed to burn up a couple of
bits before getting a hole drilled deep enough to hold a wood screw.
The original request for one fastener grew until five were needed. However,
the end result was worth the effort, and once the spotlights came on at dusk
the front of our home took on its familiar, though slightly modified, Christmas
look.
Inside, the tree was erect and lit by nine o’clock p.m. and has since
been fully decorated with ornaments and ribbons. Katherine was delighted,
even thrilled, that multicolored garland lights were spiraled around the
tree between the sections of white lights that Rayanne prefers.
Leaving that evening Katherine came back inside to announce, "Thank you for
the colored lights."
As of this writing, there are no presents under the tree. I understand several
items have been purchased, but none have been wrapped. I look forward to
seeing gift packages, as a decorated tree needs them for completeness. (Oops,
Barbara just now showed me some presents underneath the lower branches.)
Bodock Beau
Christmas Humor & More
What's better than a blonde joke? Try a blonde joke for the Christmas Season.
By the way, I helped a blonde last week; I showed her where out-of-town parcels
were mailed at the Post Office. Somehow, I managed without embarrassing
her.
Blondes Getting Christmas Tree
There were two blondes who went deep into the frozen woods searching for
a Christmas tree.
After hours of subzero temperatures and a few close calls with hungry wolves,
one blonde turned to the other and said, "I'm chopping down the next tree
I see. I don't care whether it's decorated or not!"
Christmas Carols for the Psychiatrically
Challenged
Schizophrenia --- Do You Hear What I Hear?
Multiple Personality Disorder --- We Three Queens Disoriented
Are
Dementia --- I Think I'll be Home for
Christmas
Narcissistic --- Hark the Herald Angles Sing About Me
Manic --- Deck the Halls and Walls and House and Lawn and Streets and Stores
and Office and Town and Cars and Busses and Trucks and trees and Fire Hydrants
and......
Paranoid --- Santa Claus is Coming to Get me
Borderline Personality Disorder --- Thoughts of Roasting on an Open Fire
Personality Disorder --- You Better Watch Out, I'm Gonna Cry, I'm Gonna Pout,
Maybe I'll tell You Why
Obsessive Compulsive Disorder ---Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells,
Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle
Bells...
Afraid of Santa
A man went to his psychiatrist and said, "What's wrong with me? I'm afraid
of Santa."
The psychiatrist said, "You must be Claustrofobic."
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