More Stories from Central:

Chappie’s Childhood Stories

 

Editor’s Note: Here we continue with the childhood stories of Marvin Chapman “Chappie” Morgan, and his memories of growing up in Central during the 1940s.

 

Jimmy’s mother, Mrs. Myrtle McAllister, was a terrific cook. Any time I was around at supper time, she automatically set a place for me.   That is, until Mama found out I was eating so often at their house.   Mama put a stop to it and taught me a lesson in etiquette.   When I was in fourth grade, our teacher, Miss Dessie Zachary, was giving the class some instruction on this same subject of eating at someone else’s house.   She told a story about a young boy she knew who, like me, ate at a friends house regularly.   Here too, the lady automatically set a place for him without asking.   When the young man’s parents learned of his daily free-loading, they admonished him and aught him that he should never eat at anyone’s unless he was first invited. The next time he was at his friends house at mealtime, the lady of the house set his place at mealtime, the lady of the house set his place as usual.   When the family sat down to eat, the visitor hung back and stood leaning against the wall.   The lady, noticing this strange behavior, wondered why the sudden change.   She decided to say nothing and just wait to see what would happen.   The family dug in and ignored the hungry lad who was intently watching from the edge of the room.   When it became evident that no invitation was forthcoming, he blurted out, “I’d eat if y’all invited me!”

 

Miss Zachary’s story caused laughter in the class, but embarrassment to me.   I felt as though she was telling the story on me!

 

In fourth grade I had a sweetheart who had the prettiest green eyes and a head full of long, golden ringlets.   Her name was Barbara Sue Neams.   And a shy one she was.   Miss Zachary scolded certain members of the class once, for teasing my golden haired sweetie because she still believed in Santa Claus.   I wasn’t one of those who got the scolding, but, I did think she was kind of big to still be believing.   Up to this time, I had never owned a suit, other than a little tan one made for me by Aunt Delia Richardson back in about 1940.   Mama took me to   Welsh and Levy men’s store in Baton Rouge and ought me my first store-bought suit.   In doing so, I was “eligible” to join the Superman Tim club, which I did.   Once a month through the mail I got The adventures of Superman Tim.   The little publication contained all kinds of fun things to do and make.   Once I got a secret code pad, my first introduction to the world of cryptography.   (My first Army military occupational skill in 1958 was MOS 722.10, cryptographic operator).   Another time I got a ring with a secret compartment in it.   During the months containing a holiday, the holiday would be the theme of the Superman Time magazine.   The February 1945 edition had a cut-out valentine. I think it was black and white and had to be colored.   I’m not sure, but I remember it being a red heart with. “TO MY BEST GAL.”   Miss Zachary distributed the valentines from a large, red box on her desk.   She would reach in, draw a card and read the recipients name. Each one would have to go up and collect their valentine. When she came to my Superman Tim special, she stopped and looked it over and remarked to the class, “look! Chapman made his own valentine for Barbara Sue.   It says ‘TO MY BEST GAL’.”   I don’t remember Barbara Sue’s reaction, embarrassed no doubt.   But I was mortified! Miss Zachary wasn’t trying to embarrass me, but only wanted to praise my handywork.   But, I would just as soon she had said nothing.

 

Barbara Sue kept the home-made valentine.   She married Russell Watts and had three children.   My wife and I and our three children were visiting them once, not long after our return from Japan in 1964.   I asked Barbara if she remembered me giving her the valentine.   She replied, “Of course.   I still have it.”   What a surprise that was.   She had packed away among her things at her mothers house, and she promised to show it to me someday.   But, dear Barbara Sue passed away in June 1985.   So I don’t know if I’ll ever see the 1945 valentine again.

 

Cockleburs

Wendell was at home one day with Janey and me while Mama was in town shopping. He was in the house preoccupied while Janey and I played around the porch on the east side of the house.

A fence ran close to the edge of the porch separating our yard from Mr. Ware’s corn field. Between the fence and the corn rows grow all kinds of weeds. Among these various weeds, I saw some cockleburs growing close enough to the fence that I was able to remove some of the prickly burs from the dried stalks.

Although there realy isn’t much one can do with cockleburs, I found a way to have fun with them. I tangled them in my little sister’s soft, fine hair! Well, she couldn’t take a joke and with the wad of tangled burs dangling from her head, she went crying to Wendell.

Wendall wasn’t at all impressed. He scolded me the whole time he was trying to remove the well tangled burs. He finally gave up and got some scissors. I knew I was in trouble then. Janey’s hair was a sight after the last bur was removed surginally. And Wendell kept the condemning evidence until Mama got home. She soundly thrashed my little behind.

 

The Squirrel Hunters

Several men came to the house once to go squirrel hunting with Wendell. They went off behind the house where we could hear them shooting now and then. By and by they all came out, all except one. When we didn’t show up after a while, they began calling for him and firing their guns. Later, the man came waling up the lane in front of the house. He hadn’t been lost as was feared. He had just hunted on through the woods and came out up on the Canal Road (now Hooper Road). He walked back to our lane and came on in the front. He had a sack full of squirrels, and every one of them had been hit right in the eye by his 22 rifle.


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