|
a.
|
Note: Memories of Pop... by Dale Gleghorn At this stage of life, long term memory is somewhat more concise than short term, so, therefore, I put to paper some of my early memories of Milton Holmes Gleghorn "pop" or "daddy" to us kids.
In the 1940's I remember Pop taking me to Mischeaus's tavern on Friday nights to watch the Friday night fights, remember, "Gillette Blue Blades Presents The Friday Night Fights." Pop would prop me on the end of the bar while he enjoyed his Stag Beer and Seagrams 7 Shooter. I was just a little tyke then (if one can believe that). If memory serves, at that time I was about four years old, Pop was tossing me up in the air and catching me on the way down. One of these flights into the air found my head and the overhead wooden fan which caused quite a stir, but no problem. I came through this trauma o.k.
Later on in life, when I was approximately ten years old, Pop thought it was time that I learned to swim. We went to Plum Creek (which Dewey probably remembers, but I doubt that Judy and Deanie would), at which time we promptly stripped to nakeder than a jaybird. Needless to say I was quite petrified, but I would not let Pop know that I was scared. Pop proceeded to indicate that the only way to learn to swim was to "just do it." This phrase was later put into million dollar usage by a popular tennis shoe producer. At this time my Pop picked my up and threw me in this ice cold running, deep creek and told me to start swimming. Well, as one can expect, I was scared beyond belief but I started kicking and flailing away with my arms and surprisingly I was moving in the water.
In the 1950's Pop and Floyd Schoffner started the local chapter of the NAACP, there was a woman named "June" who came from New York and stayed at our house, (remember, the house where you could see the stars at night, and had to put buckets on the bed and floor to catch the rain that came through the roof like it was designed that way) ? This, of course is the same house where we had no running water and had an outdoors bathroom, or an outhouse to be more precise. Well, after the NAACP chapter was formed, the participants decided that it was time that the "colored folks" did not have to sit in the "right rear portion of the local movie house." Someone decided that Milt would desegregate this establishment, and Pop appointed me, 14 year old Dale to accompany him. I of course was mortified, but I dutifully followed Pop into the Sparta Theatre and sat down right in the middle of the middle section. J.D. Slayton was the manager of this establishment and promptly advised us that we were not supposed to sit where we were. Pop asked him, "did we not give you the correct money for the ticked?" Mr. Slayton answered yes you did but colored people were not to sit anywhere but the right rear of the theatre. Pop, in his own way, told him where he could go and we stayed right there amidst all the whispering, both white and black. I looked for a "hole" to find refuge in, but alas none available. The end result was that "coloreds" could sit anywhere they pleased. This did not happen overnight, but nontheless did happen eventually. This was the first, and last time Milt ever visited the Sparta Theatre.
The next feat, or obstacle to conquer was "the drive in restaurant" and again here was young Dale and Pop going into this place and of all things, sitting right at the counter. The proprietor called the Sparta Police who asked Pop if he would consider going outside and having his meal brought to him. One can imagine the explanation that Pop gave the Chief of Police, who incidentally lived two houses west of us. Well, we were served, however, to this day I'm sure the cook spit in our meal, but the drive in restaurant was never the same after that.
There were many other incidents after that in the desegregation of Sparta, such as Dewey, Judi and Deanie going to a previously all white grade school having to suffer the indignities of both white and black kids. I am profoundly proud of my brothers and sister along with a couple of others going through this initial trauma, but more proud were Pop and Mom, both of who also suffered the arrows of prejudice from both white and black folks in the city.
Memories of Pop # 2....
All of us kids know, but I will bet that our kids don't know that Pop was a coal miner as was his brothers. Brother Dewey was a delegate for the Union, Brother Elihu was an engineer in Moffat's Coal Mine and Pop, Russell and Emerson all worked in the mines.
I can remember in the late 1940's and early 1950's that I would wait for Pop to come home from the daily grind in the mines. I would be sitting on the front steps waiting for him to come walking down the sidewalk with his lunch bucket swinging. The reason I was waiting was that Pop would always leave a jelly sandwich, or peanut butter and jelly sandwich in his lunch bucket for me. Of course I would always ask him if he had anything leftover, and of course Pop would always say "look in the bucket Sonny Boy." This would always make my day, Pop remembered to save something for me.
During this period if there was an accident in the mines the fire whistle would sound off and every-one in the city would be petrified and wait for word of what was happening in the mines. Some-times the information would be dramatic, like miners killed or wounded, and sometimes just a cave in at one of the shafts. Speaking of shafts, Pop took me down one of the longest and darkest shafts in the mine on the railcars that went down and came back up the shaft. Needless to say, some of these "tunnels" were more that five miles deep and long. It was a very scary experience for a young boy.
In the early1950's the mines closed and the entire city of Sparta was in the midst of another depression. However, Pop had a few mouths to feed and did not miss a beat. He bought a raggedy used truck and became Milton Gleghorn, Contractor. Pop would do everything from building houses, tuck-pointing chimneys, installing bathrooms, installing electrical systems and anything else such as hauling coal to individual houses. I, being the oldest son was awarded the privilege of shoveling the coal. I remember we hauled all types of coal from "stoker coal," you know, the little pea coal to "nut" coal to the large boulders of coal. All of this done in the midst of winter. My reward was that at noon Pop and I would drive to Mischeau's Tavern for lunch which consisted of a �" piece of salami with cheese and onion, and for me a coke, and for Pop a couple of Stag Beers. At other lunches, Aunt Mary, the bartender and cook and waitress would make us one of the best hamburgers that has ever been cooked. To this day I have never found a hamburger that tasted anywhere near Mischeau's hamburgers.
Pop was a strict man, but he let Mom do all of the punishing of us kids. I can remember his saying, "Faye those kids need a spanking," at which time Mom would get her "razor strap" and proceed to do the deed. I would always try to take Karen's spankings for her, and Mom would comply. The one time I remember Pop spanking me was the time that I promised myself that he would not have to do that again. It was one summer we were at grandma Madison's house playing. I was throwing Dewey and Kenny around when Kenny landed wrong and started to cry and tell Mom and Pop that Dale had kicked him and hurt him. Pop went out to the apple tree, stripped off the biggest switch I ever saw and proceeded to whip my a.. like there was no tomorrow. Needless to say this was the one and only time he ever put a switch to my butt. Mom, though, is another story.
One summer in the mid 1950's Pop got a contract to tear down a railroad depot building in Chester, Illinois, actually at the Menard Prison. This building was located on the railroad tracks directly across from the prison. It was a hot day in July, Pop and I were on the roof of this building tearing off and saving the "sheeting" which were one by six inch planks. Pop was on one end of a plank taking the nails out, and I was in the middle of the plank trying to be helpful. While Pop was pulling up on this plank, I was trying to do the same in the middle, however, my hands were slippery from sweat, and, my hands slipped from the plank which caused the end that Pop was on to snap back. The bad part of this was that there were two nails on his end that snapped down and impaled his hand straight through the thumb and fore finger. Pop glared at me and said "do not say anything!" I was mortified..I saw the nails go through his hand and heard Pop holler #@@$%&*#!!! Pop got down the ladder and went to the prison's hospital to get a shot and bandage. When he came back he was still glaring at me and dared me to say anything. The ride back, some nineteen miles to Mischeau's Tavern was one of the longest rides I have ever had, not to mention the quietest one. When we got back to the tavern Pop had to tell the story to everyone in the tavern, albeit with some embellishment. I've got to tell you that I was relieved when he started to laugh with the other "inmates" at the tavern, at my expense of course. But, good ole Pop, he made me feel much better when to told me that he should not have had his hand where it was. He also told me that he would never be on the end of a plank when I was working in the middle of one.
I was a pretty good athlete in high school and Pop never missed a football game, basketball game or a track meet unless it was too far from Sparta for him and John Dandrige to drive to. I remember when we had games or track meets in cities like Ana Jonesboro where the black players could not eat in the same restaurant with the white players of our team I used to complain to Pop that I was not going to play for the team again. Pop would say to me, Sonny Boy" you go out and do your damnest to outplay the others, that is your revenge. Well, like he said, I would do just that. It was pretty difficult to not recognize who the stars of the Sparta teams were. Like Pop always said, "if it is worth doing, it is worth doing better than anyone else!" Or to put it in his vernacular, "just kick ass and take names."
Pop always told us "never run away from a fight you did not start, try to reason first, if that does not work you kick the hell out of them, and, if you run away, the next fight you will have will be with me." I used to have fights just about every day with kids teasing Karen. Karen had a heart condi-tion and Pop told me that I would have to protect her from kids scaring her, or Karen playing too hard. I think Karen used to get me in some of these predicaments, however the end result was me beating some kid up, or him beating me up. It was a tough life for a youngster, but one that I readily accepted. My rewards during these melees was Pops question, "well Sonny Boy what does the other boy look like!"
Pop used to take me fishing in the early 1950's, however this was not just sport, it was a necessity for food. On one of these fishing trips, this was when we lived on east Main Street, we were fish-ing in the "Government Ditches" which were a series of levies off of the Mississippi River built by Government Engineers for flood control, and Pop had a bet with the other guys with us that he would catch the most fish. Well, at the end of the day Eddie Britton, a guy who could catch fish where there were no fish came up to Pop with a gunny sack full of fish. He told Pop that he won the contest. But, Pop told him to "just wait" and look. Pop had a rope in the water that he pulled out, and on the end of this rope was a Chanel Catfish that was bigger than I was. Everyone of the people with us swore that Pop bought that fish just to win the contest. However, Pop indicated that it took him one and a half hours to bring "Ole Cedric" in. Dewey would know how Pop would laugh and brag about the one that did not get away, and let all of the others know that the puny fish they caught would not measure up to his one (1) fish if they put them all together. When Pop got home he hung that fish up on the back porch and told everyone he saw to come see the fish of the century. That fish hung on the porch so long that it finally spoiled and could not be eaten. So much for bragging.
We used to hunt and fish for meals, and plant a large garden for vegetables in the early days. When Pop, Uncle Russel, Uncle Emerson and I would go hunting squirrels I had a rough time. I used to have this nervous cough, and as everyone knows, when hunting squirrels you had to be very quiet. Uncle Russell would tell me, dammitt Dale, stop that infernal coughing or I'll shoot you instead of the squirrels. Then they got the bright idea to put me on one end of the forest and they would hunt on the other end where my coughing would send the squirrels. One time when we were hunting for rabbits I walked up on one that was just sitting, I put the barrel of the shotgun on the middle of the rabbit's back and blew the thing to smitheerens. Pop in his own way indicated that that was my supper, and advised that I would pay for the shell I had wasted. Needless to say, that never happened again. We hunted for everything from racoons to possum to quail to squirrels to ducks, geese and anything else edible. All of this to feed five hungry kids. Now, in the early 1950's we did not have a lot to eat, but we never went hungry. The Government had a program that supplied "commodities" to poor folks like us, but Pop was too proud to go down to the jail house and receive these gifts such as canned meats, cheese, flour, rice and other items. Guess who was granted that right. That's right, ole Dale was detailed to pull his little red wagon down to the jail house and load up with the goodies and pull them back home. This was downright embarrassing, but we had to eat, and who was going to argue with Pop..not me! I will never know how she did it, but Mom made some of the most delicious meals from these dried beans, rice, cheese and canned meats.
(Article Sparta News Plaindealer) ENJOY FATHER AND SON BANQUET Members of the Sparta Chapter of the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People entertained their sons at a banquet at the A.M.E. Church in Sparta recently. Only a few of the group got in the picture. They are, from the left: Front row, President Milton Gleghorn, Danny Beard, Dean Gleghorn, Elmer Rhiney and Avon Beard. Back row, Secretary Mrs. Willie Madison, Delbert Beard, Willie Madison, Samuel Brown and Lawrence St. James.
|
