MEMORIES FROM COLVIN AND JONES GENERAL STORE

The above picture is a scan of an original oil painting that my wife presented to me in 1982.  The painting was done by Mildred Barr Smith from an old photograph that we had of the store.  The date of the photograph would probably be between 1960 and 1970 before Highway 167 was widened and the store was moved back with the front section removed.  As I look at the painting, memories come back to me of the many wonderful hours of my life that occurred at the store.  There is something about an oil painting that seems to capture the reality of how things were in those days.  Something in the warmth of the painting brings forth feelings and emotions that cannot be captured with a photograph.  The following are some of the things that I see in the picture that bring back memories to me.

The black pick-up truck parked beside the store that "Nubbin" the handyman around the store drove back and forth to work everyday.  The black sealer on the store roof that was used to seal the many holes in the tin roof.  For many years, when it rained, we had to place buckets in the side store room to keep the leaking water from the roof from ruining our stock of animal feed.  The benches and the coke box on the front porch of the store.  Even though they are not exactly correct and in the right positions, they still bring back memories of listening to the old men that would gather there and play cards and talk.  The gas pumps are a truth depiction of the original pumps that were at the store in the days when we sold Mobil gasoline.  The fifty-five gallon drum to the right of the gas pumps was for kerosene, a very necessary item for a time when everyone did not have electricity at home.

Most of all, when I look at this picture of the store, I remember what a welcome sight it was for Esther and I when we would come back to visit our family after we moved away from home.

AN UNUSUAL LIVE FISH BAIT

A

FORGOTTEN

FISH

BAIT

Last week we were playing with the grand children in our back yard and noticed some wasps flying around one of our bushes.  On closer inspection I found a small wasp nest and with a quick spray of wasp and hornet spray had the situation under control.  I retrieved the nest and as I was explaining  how the nest was constructed and the larva inside the nest were actually baby wasp, my mind went back to many times that I went fishing with my grandfather "Tut".

One of my grandfather's favorite bream fish bait was the small larva from wasp nests.  This was an exceptional bait when the Ouachita River was out of its banks and the pecan tree worms would begin to fall into the flood waters.  Baiting your hook with one of these tender morsels would guarantee that the float would go under immediately and you would have a hand sized bream on your line.

Now, gathering and using this type bait was quite a challenge, especially for a youngster like me.  The day before we were to go fishing or sometimes on the way fishing, my grandfather would locate a large wasp nest and knock the nest down.  This was known as "robbing the wasp nest" and I am not sure how he accomplished this without getting stung many times.  He would then put the nest into a large paper bag and tie the top closed.  Sometimes in the car on the way to the fishing spot the wasp would hatch out and you could hear them flying around in the bag.  Once at the river we would load all of our gear, including the wasp nest bag, into the boat and head out for a day of fishing.  When we needed some bait for our hook we would open the bag and reach in and get one of the wasp larva from a compartment in the nest.  This was done as wasps were flying out of the bag, and was a very uncomfortable situation for me but I never remember anyone getting stung.  Who knows, maybe the wasps could not sting so soon after they hatched out of the nest.

This is what country memories are made of.

WATERMELON FARMING STORIES - PART 1

I LOVE WATERMELONS!

This is the beginning of a series of stories about the venture into raising watermelons for the wholesale market by the Colvin and Jones families of Unionville, Louisiana.  I was between ten and fifteen years old when my father and grandfather tried their hand at raising watermelons as a farm crop.  There are many memories of the successes and struggles that my families encountered as they strived to make a living from the fertile farmland of North Louisiana.

Let us begin with some history of the events leading up to our family living in Unionville.  My father was raised in Junction City, Arkansas and my mother was raised in Unionville, Louisiana.  Shortly after graduation from college, they married and set up household in Linville, Louisiana.  My father took the position of Principal/Coach of Linville School and my mother, who had been a school teacher for several years in Homer, Louisiana retired from teaching.

During the next few years three children were born into this family;  myself, my brother Richard and sister Penelope.  Sometimes in life, events happen that change the course of the remainder of the life of a family.  During the summer of 1949, I came down with the dreaded disease of polio and had to spend three months in the Charity Hospital in New Orleans.  My father resigned as Principal of Linville School and moved to New Orleans to be near me while my mother and siblings moved to Unionville to live with her parents.  After I was discharged from the hospital, my father resigned from his position at Linville school and we joined the rest of our family at Unionville.  Once settled in Unionville my father went into partnership with my grandfather in his grocery store/gas station.

My grandfather had been operating the store for years and also had a successful small farming operation raising cotton, corn and watermelons.  With the increase in the number of people that the store had to support, it was necessary to expand the farming operation to raise the needed income.  During that era, watermelons were a money making crop, so my father decided to try his hand at raising watermelons on a larger scale.

To be continued……..

FARM TRACTORS

 A Tractor for Caden

These pictures are of me and my father on the old farm tractor that he and my grandfather used for farming.  When I look at these pictures it brings back memories for my early childhood of seeing the tractor being used to plow the fields.  The engine of the tractor made a distinct powerful sound as it pulled the plows that prepared the soil for the planting of the next crops.  As the disc plow began to break the fertile ground you could begin to smell the pungent aroma  of the rich earth. Farming in those days was a profitable occupation and my father and grandfather had many years of abundant crops of cotton, corn, purple hull peas, cantaloupes, and watermelons.

I seem to be having a great time being on the tractor with my father and pretending to drive it by myself.  I have heard that we inherit genes from our ancestors that gives us likes and dislikes in our lives.  I think that my great grandson, Caden surely inherited this gene that gave him a fondness for tractors. The next two pictures show him with me and with my son, his grandfather, on my lawn tractor.  Every time he comes over to our house the first thing that he wants to do is to go sit on the tractor and pretend that he is driving it.

For Caden's second birthday we found this tractor and knew that it was the perfect birthday present.  As you can see from the  picture, he certainly enjoys "my tractor" when he comes to visit us.

These are the memories that we make that make life enjoyable.