A Boy From Down East

Introduction

Growing up in eastern North Carolina in a small rural community during the 1950’s and 1960’s was the best possible childhood you could wish for. Family, church, friends, school, and working on the farm was the center of my world.

I have often heard people say ‘if only I could change this or that of my past’ or ‘if only I knew then what I know now.’ I would not change anything because this is what made me who I am today.

This is a collection of stories of my childhood. I hope you enjoy reading them as much as I have enjoyed remembering them

If You Cannot Improve on the Silence then Keep Quiet.

If you cannot improve on the silence then keep quiet. Whoever first said this, and I have seen it credited to several famous people, put into words how I feel. There are way too many people talking in the world and far too few people communicating. I wonder who they are talking to sometimes. Most likely it is to themselves as they are the only ones who enjoy hearing their voice. When you get right down to it even with all this noise, nothing is said

Growing up on a tobacco farm down east in North Carolina with my grandparents, we spent many nights sitting in the living room with the TV off. Other than Ed Sullivan or Lawrence Welk, Granddaddy thought television was a waste of time. He would sit in his chair and read the paper or read Look Magazine. Grandmomma would sit in her chair reading a novel or working on her Sunday school lesson, preparing to teach an adult Sunday School class the next Sunday. Other nights she would just read the Bible.

There was never a lot of conversation, mostly just quiet time. This was the case with Granddaddy no matter where we were, at their house at night, at the kitchen table, out in his truck or working in the fields. Every once in a while Granddaddy would say something about the farm or what we had to do tomorrow or a word of wisdom about life. Even though very little was ever said by him I learned more from that man about life, business and finance than any other person I have met. That man knew how to communicate.

A few weeks ago I went to visit my sister back in North Carolina. My dad, my brother, my sister and I were sitting on the patio and nothing was said for about 30 minutes even though we had not seen each other for several months. Finally my sister said, You Gray men are all alike. You are too darned quiet.

Granddaddy

I had a special relationship with my grandparents growing up. I spent many hours with them having fun, learning and working on the farm. Much of the person I am today comes from their teachings and example. I was blessed to have great parents and grandparents who helped guide me to adulthood.

I idolized my granddaddy and spent as much time with him as I could. We even shared the same birthday, April 24th. He was born on April 24, 1903 and I was born on April 24, 1953, fifty years apart. He was born in Bonnerton, N. C. to Michael Meager Gray and Sallie Stilley Gray and lived his whole life in Bonnerton.

On the day I was born he was transplanting tobacco. Grandmomma always told me that on the day I was born she told Granddaddy she wanted to go to Washington to the hospital to be there for the birth. He responded, I don’t have time for all this foolishness; there is work to be done. Yes, this was the beginning of that special bond.

He was always working around the farm and house, except on Sunday. I cannot remember him ever sitting still during the work day. In the evenings, if he didn’t have to check his tobacco barns, he would sit in the living room and read the paper and it was off to bed early because sunrise didn’t wait for anyone.

He always wore a hat when he left the house whether a clean dress hat to church or an old worn farm hat. He smoked a pipe and I can still remember his sweet smell of aftershave and pipe tobacco. He kept a cigar box of Tampa Nugget or Hav-A-Tampa cigars in his truck and would smoke them while out in the fields.

When riding around checking on the farm he offered rides to people from the community who were walking and take them to the store or home. I have seen him go out of his way to drive someone home who did not have transportation. I can remember him telling me If you want people to help you then you have to be willing to help them.

It was not until the late 1960s that my grandparents got an indoor bathroom in their house. I remember Granddaddy bathing at the sink on the back porch and they did not have hot water unless it was heated on the stove. During the very coldest part of the winter he bathed at the kitchen sink. He had an old safety razor and powder to make his shaving cream. Grandmomma made sure we all bathed every night when I was there and at times it was cold.

I can only remember my granddaddy losing his temper twice in my life. The first time was with me when I punched my brother Mark. He took me out back of the house and put a belt to my backside. That was the only time I can ever remember him punishing me and I am glad of that.

The other time I saw him lose his temper was at the cucumber grader at Porters Creek. After picking cucumbers all day we would load the truck and go to the packing shed to sell them each night. On this particular night it was late and we were in a long line of trucks waiting for our turn to unload at the grader. I remember I was sitting on top of sacks of cucumbers in the back of the truck watching when another man tried to drive and cut Granddaddy off. He came out of the truck yelling things I had never heard come out of his mouth and he had a great big old fashion pipe wrench in his hand. The other men in the area came running over and grabbed him before he reached the guy. They all made the other man go to the back of the line and I can remember one old man saying as he walked by He should have known not to cut in front of Mr. Willie like that.

My dad and Granddaddy were active members of the Richland Township Ruritan Club when I was growing up. I remember each year they had a Father and Son banquet and Granddaddy, Dad, my brother Mark and I always went. It was held in the cafeteria at school and I often wondered how they got such good food out of that kitchen after what we had during the school day.

The other Ruritan event that I attended each year was the annual fish fry at Jarvis Landing. This was held in the summer and was a lot of fun since many of my friends were there and we would go swimming in the river and play. The fish, slaw and hushpuppies were good also.

When I was in the 7th or 8th grade I remember getting out of school one afternoon and walking up to the pool hall. When I entered I saw Granddaddy sitting with a group of other men talking and drinking beer. I had never seen Granddaddy with a beer and I remember thinking, cool, I bet Grandmomma doesn’t know where you are. But, then there was that bottle of whiskey I found in the back of her closet. When I asked her hat it was, she said cough medicine.

Granddaddy had a sure fire cure for anything that bit you. If you got stung by a bee or wasp you soon learned to keep it to yourself. If he found out he would grab you and spit chewing tobacco juice on it. But now that I think about it, it did take the sting out of the bite.

Another memory I have of my granddaddy is that at night when he was asleep he could snore up a storm. He would make the windows rattle. I guess that explained why he and Grandmomma slept in separate rooms.

After I got married and move to Florida Granddaddy would always ask me, each time I went home, why I moved so far away. I would always answer him, I looked on a map and saw how far south tobacco grew and I moved 100 miles further south. He would always laugh at this but I knew the truth. He felt the same pains of missing each other that I did. The funny thing about this little joke we shared is I have spent my entire working career in agri-business.

Granddaddy was and will always be one of my role models and mentors. Some of my earliest memories of life are of the times I spent with him and I have many great memories of us together.

Dinner on the Grounds

Growing up in a small town in eastern North Carolina I was like most children. Going to church on Sunday morning was not an option and was not my favorite way to spend my time. Getting dressed up in a suit and tie and sitting in a hot church (with no air conditioning) was not fun. No matter how cool everyone looks in old movies, little hand fans provided by the local funeral home did not keep you cool. In the small churches I grew up in there was no such thing as Children’s Church. You had to sit in the main service and you better be good or else.

There were a couple of Sundays every year which I did enjoy. Those were the Sundays when we had dinner on the grounds. The best of those was during Homecoming because there were lots of people and more food than you can imagine.

My family would always go to Homecoming at Edward Christian Church, our home church, and to Mary’s Chapel Church, where a lot of Momma’s family attended. Friends and family would gather to catch up on old times and the kids would run and play. It was always fun to see friends and cousins.

But, let’s get back to the important part: the food. Both churches were set up the same way with a long table made of fencing material stretched flat between two trees with the necessary supports. The food was set up on the table and there was lots of it. It seemed everyone brought something and some people brought several dishes. There were platters of ham, chicken, beef, collards, corn, peas, green beans, carrots, biscuits and cornbread and much more, all freshly made and none of it store bought. Then there were the desserts; coconut cake, German chocolate cake, yellow cake with chocolate icing, pineapple upside down cake, pound cake, angel food cake, brownies, fudge, cookies and every kind of pie you could want.

After the food was blessed we all lined up and walked down the table to sample whatever we wished. My favorites were ham, fried chicken and corn. I liked fried chicken the best and tried to sample everyone’s fried chicken but no one could fry it like Momma. She still makes the best fried chicken I have ever eaten.

Then there were the desserts. I tried to eat at least one of every dessert there. Everything was homemade and most of it was from scratch. As I sit here writing this I can still taste a real coconut cake and a pineapple upside down cake. Um, um good!

In today’s hectic world of fast paced living and large mega-churches it is good sometimes to remember the good times and simpler life of being a child and dinner on the grounds.

The Joy of Reading

The other night I was thinking about how much I enjoy reading. Give me a good book and I can be content for hours. I have always enjoyed reading but I can trace my true love of reading to my Grandmomma from Bonnerton, NC.

When I was little I spent a lot of time with my grandparents helping my grandfather on the farm. One of the things I remember about them is that they did not watch TV in the evenings. Granddaddy would sit in his chair and read the paper and Grandmomma would sit in her chair and read a novel or the Bible. We did not talk a lot.

Bonnerton was a small junction in the road with only a few houses and one store. The Bookmobile would come every two weeks and park in my grandparents’ front yard and the people of the community would to come and check out books. Every summer my Grandmomma signed me