Patt and I were once again in Graham, this time for an overnight at Kelly and Beth's - sans K & B as we were "looking after" Maddie post M's surgery. So we left Maddie alone.
Went over to Janet's and had a delightful evening with Dave, Janet, Joyce and brothers and sisters-in-law pre Dave's surgery (best not be kin to us this week) and so was free this fine July Monday—
Went for a bike ride through Graham and found myself on good ole memory lane.
Confederate statute still looking north, standing guard over Main Street, and scene of bro-ha-ha last week as apparently someone suggested he be moved. Well I never.
Just off the square on the north west corner where the old soda shop/drug store stood is the old court house bell that used to sit under the tree "down at the house". Note inscription " It belongs to you— yes - you heirs and relatives in the broadest sense of the term.
Mom especially was insenced that the short-sighted County Commissioners would "sell the county's heritage for a few dollars" (Commissioners seldom change by the way). As I recall Dad bought it at an auction of county surplus stuff for $110 in the early 1960s.
This is the first church I remember attending, it is at the junction of North Main and Maple, now a Spanish Nazarene church. A minister named Mr. Lanning was the minister, and as I recall, subject to revision, we sat in the back left. Once when Mom and Dad were up front for some reason- baptizing Mark? - we remaining three older boys were not behaving so well and I remember some man coming up to us and advising that "your father will not be happy". I have no recollection of his return. Perhaps that is best. (Breaking my tradition of no last names here for the preacher.)
The Sunday School building was wooden. Mom was afraid the building would burn down (it never did) and some degree of paranoia and concern for our offspring is normal in our family anyway. Consequently, in the winter we would go to Sunday School at a Methodist Church in Burlington.
Further up Main, was Graham School. When I went to the first grade it was grades one through 12. I recall seeing the football players going to practice and being afraid of how big they were. By second grade a high school had been built and the school was renamed Graham Elementary. Now it is being torn down. This photo below is all that is left of the cafeteria and gym. The dead tree is one of two that graced the edge of the playground. The bulldozer is about where home plate would be for the baseball field. We played there a lot.
Looking exactly across from the other corner and this time south down North Main Street. The Friends or Quaker Church to the right. "Meet me behind the church" meant that someone was being challenged to a fight. That was about as serious as a threat as could be issued. And yes, I was at least once that I recall being met there. Not much of a fight but it was one.
Note concrete mixer in photo— drove one of those quite often down this street as did many of the brothers. They were red and gray and were labeled Alamance Ready Mix.
Further north on Main going toward Burlington and the railroad tracks and the concrete plant where we all worked was this building on the right. As a small child I always stared closely whenever we went by as I "knew" or sensed something had to be not quite right about the the building — It was one of about four or five "beer joints" in town and a real fat guy always sat in the door at the cash register. I don't guess I ever spoke of the building to my parents, just stared at it.
Across the railroad and almost in Burlington was the site of Alamance Ready-Mix Concrete. Dad was a part owner of the plant so each of us worked there - a lot. It was sold and is much changed of course - the now brick building was then a wooden building/office where I and Eric were once both managers, at the end of the track spur once a rail car of cement was always in place and was pounded on relentlessly with a large sledge hammer to facilitate the free flow of cement into the mixing tower - now gone.
We five did about everything, worked on the finishing crew made up of mostly black men and later one mean as hell white guy named Joe D. Kelly actually totaled his truck, yep, ran right into it with another truck. Joe could lay a cussin' on about anything anytime. Actually we mostly enjoyed working at the plant and with the concrete crew. They were an entertaining and interesting bunch.
There was Paul P., a former seabee in the south Pacific, who could tell one funny story, Willie B., the strong quiet leader, and Waymon W. also entertaining, whose adopted son was prominent at UNC and later died tragically, Chandler (ole Chan— he was drunk most of the time), Robert, Earl, Little Charlie, and others. Some were real characters and could entertain for hours. Also part of the crew were a series of up work-release prisoners from the prison farm, as it was called then, who joined the crew. Vernon M, one of Dad's partners, liked the prisoners they were always sober in the morning.
We cleaned out the inside of the mixers, we rebuilt engines under the fussing, complaining guidance of Dan M., Dad's other partner, Eric ran a front end loader one summer scooping sand and gravel till he could make run it in his sleep. I think he hated it. The truck drivers were another unique crowd. Tross W, a former POW of the Germans, Silas - lazy, Allie W, the guy who taught everyone one to drive concrete trucks and of course others.
Any of we five of us can go by buildings in the Alamance County area and say we poured concrete there, did curb and gutter there, a driveway, delivered a load of concrete there and tell you stories anytime you wish, just ask us. We will be glad to tell you tales of the characters on the crew we worked with.
The mayor lived across the street in a very large house. He also ran the mill, I think.
Just down the street was the King Bee grocery store. Run by the guy who used to run the A & P grocery store (the Great Atlantic and Pacific Grocery). Mom really liked him and the store and we bought vegetables from the store after the A & P closed.
The grocers' son Jimmy and Ricky A, son of Dad's nurse both two years older than me and sorta looked after me. (?)
One evening when I was fourteen they were in Ricky's souped up 55 Chevy (google 55 Chevy) to go cruising. We ended up walking into Jake's, a seedy beer joint on US 70 out on the country side of west Burlington going toward Elon. It was country two lane road then.
We sat in a booth and they ordered three draft Blue Ribbons. Yup, my first beer. Legal was 18. They were 16, I was 14 — Jake's was that kind of place where "everyone had a friend". I was some kind of scared but remember acting like I had done it many times before.
Back to the mill, beside most mills, well nearly every mill I knew of were mill houses, this is a row of them across Parker on Melville St. My friend Steve C lived in one of these or on the next block over on Seymour. Can not remember. Steve sat in front of me in first grade, Paul C behind me. We were in the same order on graduation day 12 years later.
More to come. Actually a lot more. I took a lot of photos and enjoyed the day immensely.
