The Old-Timers
By Bill Shepard
Go ahead, call me Old-Timer, see if I care!
I feel honored and wear the title gladly. After all, Old-Timers are people who have been around a long time, seen a lot of changes, and have been able to adjust and remain.
One could say that an Old-Timer is a survivor. Yes, that’s a good description. In order to become an Old-Timer, one must be a survivor.
Old-Timers like to talk! They begin their conversations with, “I remember when.” From there, they are apt to cover the globe, depending on who is listening and who is talking. Old-Timers will talk at the drop of a hat, and some I know will drop their own hat!
Don’t ever ask an Old-Timer a question unless you have a lot of time on your hands to listen. Chances are he will tell you all he knows and a lot he doesn’t know. Everyone knows it takes a lot longer to tell a body what one doesn’t know about a subject than what he does know.
Old-Timers are a good source of information about whatever you want to know. You can learn more from an Old-Timer than you can at the library – of course, it might not be as accurate, but no bona fide Old-Timer would admit that.
When you get it straight from the Old-Timer’s mouth, it has to be accurate. He would bet his life on it, and he is the one doing the remembering. Another one of his sentence openers is “I remember just as if it was yesterday.” It’s sort of strange. You can ask an Old-Timer what he had for dinner yesterday and he can’t remember, but ask him what he ate on his 10th birthday and he can tell you, right down to the biscuit.
I can attest to that. The year I celebrated my 10th birthday, my mom prepared a large plate full of fried Irish potatoes just for me. A neighbor came over and gave me a dime. I thought that was really something. My favorite food, a dime, 10 years old, all on the 10th day of April.
Just like it was yesterday, I remember! Now that’s been a long time ago, but I remember. Just don’t ask me what I had for breakfast this morning, nor my children’s ages, nor my wife’s birthdate.
Ah, I am a certified, bona fide Old-Timer! Go ahead, ask me! I can tell you about the WPA, PWA, CCC Camps and the New Deal! I can even point to places in Darlington where I watched the WPA workers hard at work with pick, shovel and wheelbarrow. Some of the fruit of their labors can be seen in Williamson Park and elsewhere. Some folks said it was just a “giveaway” program started by the Democrats, but that’s for other folks to argue.
I still remember some of the things they used to say about the workers. One fellow said that one drop of sweat from a WPA worker would cure a rattlesnake bite! Another said that one worker had a heart attack and died, and when the doctor came, he had to examine the entire crew to find the one who had died.
I still think a lot of good was accomplished by the program. By the way, if you want to know what WPA stands for, look it up. One Old-Timer said it stands for We Poke Along.
I can tell you about the Great Depression and how Roosevelt got us out of it. I remember where I was, what I was doing and with whom, the day the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor. I can tell you about me and my buddies slipping off to join the Army without our parents’ consent. We were determined to show the enemy they couldn’t sneak up on America and do their dirt and get by.
I can tell you about the big flood of 1928 that washed away the bridge that stood over Swift Creek down by the big mill. And about the railroad embankment washing away, leaving the rails swinging in mid-air! That was one scary sight for a 6-year-old to behold.
Old-Timers like to talk about the ways they used to earn their spending money. Ways like working in the tobacco fields for a nickel an hour, or picking cotton for 30 cents per 100 pounds, and plowing a mule all day for 50 cents. I couldn’t make a lot of money picking cotton, but it sure was fun picking on the same row with my sweetheart.
Every Old-Timer I know likes to talk about the Saturday Westerns at the old Liberty Theater in Darlington and their favorite cowboy. When Buck Jones was playing, you would have to stand in line to get a ticket. That man had a white horse named Silver and he could outrun a passenger train. I know he could for I saw him do it lots of times.
Now, I liked Tim McCoy, Bob Steels and old Hop-A-Long, but none of those fellows could beat Buck on the draw.
When Gene Autry and Roy Rogers came along, the old Westerns seemed to change. Sorta like when Hillbilly music changed to country music. I can’t explain it, but I think you know what I mean. Anyway, they were all my favorites, and for a dime I could spend the entire Saturday afternoon at the movies.
Like I said, Old-Timers like to rattle on and on about the things they used to do a long time ago. If you don’t believe it, just drop your hat the next time you are in the company of one. Somebody just picked up my hat and handed it back to me. I suppose that means it is time to stop. I reckon I had better, but that doesn’t mean I have run out of things to talk about. I’ll just save some for next time.
The next time you meet an Old-Timer, be kind and lend an ear. You just might be one yourself someday.
