So maybe Rob talked me in to it, or maybe I just realized that Rachel was right...blogging can only be a positive experience. So, as Big Daddy would say, "Carry on."
Last night I accompanied "The Master" (a.k.a. Heith or 'the husband') on a night retreat with the coon dog. We staked out several sites for Trooper and finally settled on some land near Edgewater Road. The Master took Trooper down to the creek while I sat on top of the dog box in the back of the truck. The Master is infamous for getting lost in the woods at night, so he needed that extra back up of someone to yell back at him in case he forgot his way. I watched the coal miner light (as I like to call it) fade off in the woods. Pretty soon it was just me and the .20 gauge with a little moonlight to spare. It seemed chilly enough, so I brought a light jacket. After about fifteen minutes, I didn't hear them anymore...my mind started to wander. This happens a lot, especially to me...especially in the woods and extra specially at night. Whew.
The moon cast a strange blue light across the meadow where the truck was parked. I could see far across to the other side of the pasture and I noticed how dark the wood line was. Completely black...once you crossed over from the blue moonlight, the wood line was waiting to devour anything that stepped inside. It might as well have devoured The Master and Trooper because they were well beyond earshot at this point. I started to imagine dozens of Confederate soldiers...clad in ghastly grey...emerging from the wood line and out onto the moonlit field.
As if we we're watching Pirates of the Caribbean...only Ghosts of the Confederacy. They turn to skeletens when they walk into the light and their uniforms become tattered and turn to rags. They don't seem to notice me. They must be focused on the matter at hand...they seemed very anxious to get where they were going.
Later on (in real time, I'm guessing--ten minutes) I saw a little twinkle of a light deep in the woods...I figured it was The Master. Then the imagination cranked up again...The Master had been silently abducted while walking Trooper along the creek. So who could it be? Who was walking towards me with the coal miner light on? Was it The Master or was it an angry spirit ready to unleash his frustrations on me and possibly the 2500?
The demolition team is just about finished tearing down the old Mill. Every Sunday we walk out to inspect the latest in the destruction process and after hearing Tift's "Laid a Highway"...I became a little more observant of days gone by here in this Mill town.
The school sits empty and abandoned just up the street...the swimming pool is now a concrete lagoon (now home to some very strange and mutant amphibians)...the gates are all locked and the windows boarded up.
As young as I am, I remember nights at the bowling alley...birthday parties at the school house...Brownie / Girl Scout meetings at the center...the high dive...the super high swing set...the mill's horn at quitting time...and all the people who made this place what it was.
Something different...a place with a lot of character. Kids that were happy just walking up to the Post Office and hanging out in front of Billy's with a candy cigarette...spending the night and swimming in the pool until 12:00 while all our parents sat around us talking about this and that...the faint smell of Daddy's Marlboro burning and listening to the crickets and the tree frogs all night long.
Good days--I never thought I'd have something that would compare to a golden day...not to compare to Mama or MaMa's golden days--but just having a little bit of my own.
I feel content but saddened to watch this place die...wither...rot away.
They really never did tear that old place down...in the process, but you can still walk around--see the torn out doors and all the bricks and broken down floors...This was the town that took care of its own and really did do fine all alone.
Riverdale did get out at a quarter to five...and back then you really could eat supper with any family you like.
Sometimes I sit and watch this mill town die.
tell me lies, tell me sweet little lies
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