Country Living

When I was growing up, the neighborhood where we lived was considered “the country.” My dad often referred to us as “hillbillies.” On Saturday evenings he would load us all up in the Galaxy 500 and drive “in to town” to Terry Lynn’s drive in for a burger. It was a real treat.

I remember every Saturday, Momma would get us all dressed up and we would go “to town.” Which meant driving all the way down Highway 10 to Cantrell road to downtown. We always went in to Sterlings or Penny’s. I remember being small enough to hide in the clothes racks; and I remember the elevators had a cage to open after the doors opened.

We were true and proud hillbillies. In the summer we went barefoot; just because we could. We rode our bicycles on the road, even took a couple of trips all the way around the loop to Rainey’s to buy candy. We caught fireflies in the evenings. We would hike all the way over to the “railroad dump” and played on the deep slopes off Chenal Mountain, it was really fun in the winter when it snowed.

Everyone on the loop knew everyone else - most all of us were related. My cousins were my best friends and we spent many hours together planning our futures. We played and fought like sisters. We all played softball in the summer. Lynn was a pitcher, Mimisu was a second base or short stop and I played on 3rd base or as catcher. Just about every weekend we had slumber parties (when slumber parties weren‘t even heard of.)

We always checked in with Grandma, she would be doing one of her puzzles or watching her soap. Sometimes we helped her peel the potatoes or pick the bad beans from the good beans. Grandma B. was so pretty. She had long fingernails and beautiful red hair. She loved Chihuahuas. Her sister, Aunt Lillian lived right across the street. She and Grandma went to town every week for groceries. Neither one drove so Dub took them. Grandma liked to plant flowers, but with all her grandkids underfoot; I don’t think she got to tend to them as much as she would’ve liked to.

Every 4th of July we had a huge picnic and all the family would be there. Daddy would always round up hickory wood for the fire-pit and Uncle Pat made an awesome contraption that would BBQ all kinds of savory meats. It was a huge pot-luck so there was a lot of food. The bigger kids even stayed out all night and slept on the lawn chairs under the stars.

So much has changed since those days of innocence. Some of the family still lives in the area, but the big city is closing in fast. Our old Highway 10 is now referred to as Cantrell and it’s a five lane thoroughfare. Even the loop is not the same; with its huge homes popping up all over.

I love the memories I have. We were all so close. Now we all have grown up, we live all over the city, state and country. We still have our annual 4th of July picnic and we all get together once a month at a local restaurant; and I enjoy visiting with everyone every time. Some of them even get together every Friday for lunch, which I try to get to when I can get away from work.

Yes, like the saying goes: We were Country, when Country wasn’t Cool - but We Were Cool.