MEMORIES OF AN OCTOGENARIAN

Ben Estes and the Pleasant Hill Methodist Church

Our Dad, Jess Porter Pruett, now past 82 years of age, has always been quite a story teller and many of these stories have been of his early boyhood. We never know if they are true or false as he is a good story teller, he always seems to bring out one of his favorite tales at the drop of a hat. They usually start "Have I ever told you about so and so . .?" If we say no, this will cause him to respond, "Good, now I can speak with more freedom." Many times they were new ones but many times, only new versions of the same old tales.

His uncle, Ben Estes, seems to be one of his favorite subjects. "Uncle Ben" was his uncle by marriage, having married Molly Nelson, his mother's sister. He lived only a short distance "up the road" and took a keen interest in Dad. He taught him to make a kite and then fly it, how to build a rabbit trap, let him observe making of candles in a candle mold, and many other similar things. His visits to see Uncle Ben were fun and happy times.

Since Dad had not yet become a world traveler, Uncle Ben would tell him about the world, the weather, ghosts, and the Bible. Occasionally he would get into discussions of the Universe! They discussed such things as, "They tell me the world is round, but I doubt that, for I have been many places and it is flat everywhere I have been"

Also, "see that moon, it's called a New Moon, I've been seeing that moon like that for the past 40 years." Then when it would rain, he had other bits of wisdom to share with Dad, "I've noticed that after a long dry spell, we usually get a rain," or "they tell that we have a 40% chance of rain today, well, I would say that we had that much before noon.

As with most youngsters, Dad did not question the wisdom of Uncle Ben but as he grew older he began to realize that some of the things he had learned from this dear old man were not quite true~ As time passed he came to understand that Uncle Ben was simply trying to arouse his curiosity to get him interested so that he would study and learn for himself.

Uncle Ben had literary and poetic talents as well. Once when Dad was assigned to give a recitation before the entire school, as was the custom on Friday afternoon, he was taught a poem by Uncle Ben. It was agreed between them, however, that the poem would be their secret and not to be shared with anyone before the time for the appointed recitation:

He recalls, to this day, the silence that fell over the room, and he was never asked to recite poetry to the school again. He also has a vivid memory of the "licking" he received from his father when he came home from school that day.

Uncle Ben lived on property which adjoined the property of the Pleasant Hill Methodist Church and made himself the guardian and caretaker of the church property. Rain or shine. he would open the church for services, stoking the fires, opening the windows, and doing all the necessary things required for the church to function. He also kept the weeds cut and looked after the church property as if it were his own. He never received any money for his services would've been offended if any were offered. His work was an act of love for his church and its people.

SCHOOL DAYS

Dad says that he does not remember when the first schools were opened in rural areas of the County. (Mr. Fred Culp in Gibson County Past and Present states that the first school was built in the area where the Hamilton's, Pruett's, Keenan's and Griffin's lived). This was probably in the 1830's. Dad remembers that the school was built between the Pleasant Hill Methodist Church and the Cumberland Presbyterian Church (this latter church was organized in 1873.) It was a one room school but at about the time he started (1904) a lean-to was added and the younger children had their "lessens" in that addition. His first teacher was Miss Myrtie Lackey and he enjoyed going to school. He remembers that the entire student body had a joint spelling class at the last class period of the day. Their "study book" was the dictionary, from which they were assigned a half page a day. They had to learn to pronounce the words, spell them and give their meaning. When he told us this, we challenged his story but he would not back off, so, we accepted it as related verbatim.

In the spring of 1980, we visited his old teacher (now Mrs. Floyd Keenan) who was then past 90 and living in a nursing home. At first she did not recognize her former pupil but when Dad told her that she was his first teacher at Pleasant Hill, her face lighted up like magic and she was back in the classroom of some 75 years ago. "Yes, I remember that you used to sit on my lap. The only word you could spell was T H E." That was the last we ever heard about the dictionary story.

Gibson County was known as the Strawberry Capital of the World in the early days of this century and school was always turned out in time for strawberry picking in the spring. It was a chance to earn some money, and children were allowed to pick berries if they were careful and followed the rules. Only the berries that were ripe and firm were allowed to be picked; the stem had to be left on. and the berries put in the containers so as not to become bruised. The pay was 15 cents for a four quart tray and a youngster could earn as much as .75 cents a day. That was big money for those days. Usually they bought new clothes with the money and kept a little for fun things.

According to family legend, this one is supposed to be true.

Dad and Mother had some very dose friends in Humboldt by the name of Harry and Clara Wilson. They would take a vacation trip together for relaxation about once a year. This was the only time they ever were able to do anything without the children.

On one trip they decided to go to New Orleans and visit all the famous places the tourists went. Normally they ate in small restaurants and had a wonderful time. Clara was not satisfied, she had heard of the fine restaurants there so she was determined to visit one of them and enjoy the fine food. Clara was to pick the spot.

The place she picked was very impressive, and when they got inside they found it to be far more luxurious than they expected. Crystal chandeliers, soft lights, palm trees, linen tablecloths, fine silver, plus a crew of waiters that would impress a President. It did not take long for it to become evident that the "affair" was going to be a financial disaster.

Dad does not remember the food particularly but does recall that it took about three hours to finish the elegant meal. Most of the time was spent just watching the waiters as they went through their paces. When the meal was finished, the cashier was extremely happy to see them and invited them to come back. Dad, in his rather loud country hillbilly accent replied, "That's mighty nice of you, Main, we don't visit much but ya'll come to see us sometime." Poor Clara, having risen to the grandeur of the place, was absolutely crushed.

ODORS UNLIMITED

In any supermarket today, you will find rows of scented room fresheners, scented toilet tissue, scented soaps; and many other scented items. None will excel Mother Nature. Since the advent of air conditioning, fast cars and other things associated with current living, people have forgotten the odors of honeysuckle, apple blossoms, and new mown hay. The odors I remember best are of coffee beans roasting in the oven and country cured ham frying on the stove. Both had an aroma that drifted in the air for hours.

NIGHT SOUNDS

"Whip-o-wills, Screech Owls, and Hoot Owls broke the silence of night and assured us that all was well. If we heard the chickens become disturbed, or if the stock stirred, we knew some unexpected person or animal was around. Today, with the TV blaring away and the doors and windows closed against intrusion, a person can't hear the telephone ring, much less hear outside noises."' 

THE OUTING

We always had some doubts about this tale, but he told it with so much relish that we let him get away with it.

When we were in the 6th grade and going to school in Humboldt, our teacher was a Professor Horton. He was always taking his class on 'outings,~ nature studies, he called them. One afternoon he took us to the river, in normal times a small stream, but a big rain the night before had turned it into a raging river. I don't remember why Professor Horton decided to go across in a small boat but when he reached the middle of the 'river' the boat capsized, and he fell into the water. He panicked and looked for anything to hang on to, we all started to yell at him, "Grab them roots." "Grab them roots!" Suddenly he stopped his thrashing about, grabbed one of the roots and yelled back to us, "How many times have I told you it's not them roots, it's those roots!" What a way to learn grammar! 

FISHING

Dad listened to fishermen bragging about how many fish they were catching and he wondered why he was such a poor fisherman. One of the sporting goods stores had an expert" come in and give a lecture on how to catch fish so he decided to attend to learn some of the secrets. The fee was $1.00, so he paid his money and went.

At first, the speaker explained how the weather was so important, how the time of day was a factor, and how important it was to have the right kind of equipment. His final advice, however, was probably the best. This sage advice went something like this" . . . find a boat where the men are catching fish, stop and see what kind of bait they are using, how deep they are fishing, and then move in on them."

After he returned home from the lecture, we asked how it went, and to this he replied, "It was good advice, and I am sure it will work, so long as you don't mind getting shot."

THE MEDICINE CHEST

Our folks depended on home remedies and a trip to the doctor was almost unheard of. Looking back, I do not recall that we took much medicine of any kind. Most of our medication consisted of a few drops of turpentine on a spoon of sugar for a sore throat, a cut was treated with "coal oil" (kerosene) as were most other barefoot accidents. A stomach ache was treated with paregoric, and sulfur and molasses was used as a spring tonic. We lived a simple life and stayed healthy. Our diet was mostly fresh vegetables, eggs, dried fruit, and buttermilk - and country ham cured in the "smoke house!"

CHRISTMAS TIME IN THE COUNTRY

"From the beginning of the 'time of Christmas' it was the most exciting time of the year, and we made the best of this season. Although we did not have the elaborate Christmas decorations used today, we were happy with what we had. Very few families had a Christmas tree in their homes but we did have a community tree at our church. It was a tree with candles, popcorn, home made trimmings, and pine cones for decorations. Each child in the community received one gift, and our parents saw to it that no child was to receive more than one gift. We all received candy and nuts on this special occasion. We sang songs, listened to the Story of Christmas and usually had a "play" that was put on by the children. Usually the gathering of the community was on the night of Christmas Eve. It was the happiest night of the year."

On Christmas day family groups would congregate at my parents' home. Food was bountiful, and the day was spent in visiting.  For weeks before Christmas, we boys had been busy trapping rabbits, cleaning them and selling them to stores for 104 each. We saved our money and purchased fireworks. As the parents and older people gathered in the house, busy with preparing the meals and later their visiting, we boys would play in the yard, shooting our fireworks and generally having fun. I do not recall ever having an accident where anyone was injured."

THE CONFESSION

To a farm boy, life seemed to be very dull and drab, and he dreamed of a more exciting life. The big city with paved streets, cars, electric lights, tall buildings, and lots of people was the dream of many of the farm boys.

Once, a cousin of ours came to visit us from Washington, D.C. We were surprised to see how excited he was to be on a farm, feeding the stock, bringing in the eggs, riding the pony, and eating hot biscuits. He never seemed to get tired. One morning at breakfast my mother asked Richard what he enjoyed most about being on the farm. Richard thought for a few seconds and replied, 'Aunt Kate, I think it's because you are not as civilized as we are.

Shocked as we were, we decided that he was right!

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