Show and Tell

Getting to school when we moved to the country was somewhat problematic. At first, we lived at the end of a long dirt road that only cars and horses could travel. The school would not send a bus down that road to get my brothers and me. After a few years, the right of way for a direct road to our house was negotiated. The result was another shorter dirt road which was passable when dry. During the early days of the new road, it was not uncommon to leave the car stuck on the first hill. After the road dried, we could forego the half mile trek through mud to get home.

The school officials decided we could catch the bus where the new road turned off the main county road. So every morning we would wait for the bus and sometimes look around the creek bank near the bus stop.

One morning a movement near the creek caught our attention. When we went closer, we saw the biggest turtle any of us had seen outside of a zoo. It didn't take long to figure out where the name “snapping turtle” originated. This turtle had an attitude. We were familiar with the turtles that would travel in slow motion and retract its appendages when someone came near. This turtle acted like he wanted to amputate our appendages. We tried putting different sized sticks near him, and he could slice most of them with little effort.

“I know what we should do,” I said, “We could take him to school and let everybody see this thing!” We looked for a container for him with no success. “The bus won't be here for another fifteen minutes. Maybe I can find a bucket at the house.”

I ran as fast as I could to the house and found a five gallon paint bucket. After I got back to the bus stop, we put the turtle in the bucket. This was easy. We held a stick near him and he clamped onto it, then we lifted him into the bucket by using the stick as a turtle handle.

The bus pulled up and as the doors opened, we saw “Preacher" Meadows at the wheel. He always wore a pressed white shirt and a dress hat. As my brothers were climbing the steps, Mr. Meadows was greeting us. “How are the Murphys today?” When I got to the top step he saw the bucket in my hand and said “Whoa! What have you got in the bucket?”

“It's a turtle. I thought I would take it and show my teacher.”

As “Preacher" Meadow looked down into the bucket, I could tell he wasn't in agreement with my plan.

“Get that thing off the bus before it hurts somebody!” he exclaimed.

I had no choice but to leave my exhibit near the creek. My teacher and the kids in my class never knew what they had missed out on. I still believe he would have created a lot of excitement.

(Here is a video of one of these varmints: https://youtu.be/GO1HD3ebuZs 

Smoking is Dangerous

I don't quite understand my fascination with fireworks.  When I was a boy, I loved to shoot fireworks.  Most of the time we got sparklers, roman candles, and black cats.  Our budget didn't allow for the rockets and bigger kinds of explosives.  This is probably a good thing.  A few times I would be a little slow to release a firecracker and suffer a temporary hearing loss and the throbbing of an injured hand.

By today's pc standards, we did a few things that could get you or your parents thrown in jail today. One incident that I never seem to forget happened when I was about six years of age.  Why I was allowed to have fireworks at that age, I couldn't say.

It was during the Christmas season and we had a good supply of the black cat explosive firecrackers. They came in a double string and each firecracker was about two inches long.  They were loud and fun.  We liked to experiment with blowing up different things to see how they would look.  It was cold, and for some reason I was pulling my youngest brother, Bub, around in a wagon between explosions.  A few times I would throw a firecracker and the fuse would burn normally until it got to the firecracker and it would appear to just go out.

On one of these occasions, Bub reached out of the wagon and picked the "dead" firecracker up and put it in his mouth and pretended it was a cigarette. Before I could react, a small amount of smoke came from the fuse area and the "cigarette" exploded.  My brother's lips blew apart and he looked totally surprised.  I knew that wouldn't last long.  The screams and crying came next.

I was thinking about how my life was now over.  How could I explain what happened?  The best story I could think of on short notice was a falling icicle scenario.  I had to act fast and be first with the news.  When I rushed in and told my story, it caused quite a stir.  My parents were quick to run and get Bub and repair his busted lip.  They were so glad that he was OK that I faded to the background.  My baby brother took the spotlight once again.