Viewing post #1221704 by ArleneB

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ImageArleneB
Oct 27, 2016 9:04 AM CST
Name: Arlene
Grantville, GA
One time I was on my way back to Louisville from a visit to my parents in the mountains in my hot Mustang. I was not really far from my childhood home when suddenly BAM!! and I started fishtailing all over the road. Now mountain roads are mostly carved into the mountain and on one side is the very steep drop off and on the other is the side of the mountain. There was no place for me to pull over my fishtailing car. So I stopped pretty much in the middle of the road, got out and saw the blown tire. No traffic, no way to pull over and in about 1966 there was no cell phone. I couldn't leave my car and find the nearest house because this was a couple of counties away from mine and I had no idea how far away the nearest house was, so I decided I would change that tire. If I could find the jack. And if I could find the little tire that comes with a car just in case. I only remembered it was in the trunk.

So I opened the trunk and found what I needed and started to try to take that tire off. I had to jack up the car. So I got it all positioned, still in the middle of the road and here came a pickup truck. It parked behind me and a tiny stooped old man got out of that truck. He walked over and I stood up and he looked me up and down. He wasn't any bigger than I am and I thought to my self that he seemed so old he surely couldn't help me.

"Whose child are ya, girl?" he asked. I swear never in a million years will I forget this.
I told him that I lived two counties over and that I was on my way back home in Louisville. But before I could say anything else, he said . . . "I jes' ast ya whose chile you wuz, I din't ast ya whar you's from nor whar you's goin', I jes ast ya whose chile you wuz." Knocked me right off my school teacher pedestal, he did.

Anyway, he changed my tire and I very kindly told him who my parents were and where they lived while he worked. I used short sentences and called him sir. He was real quiet, never said a word, and I thought maybe he was hard of hearing.

When he finished, I offered to pay him for the help and he looked me right in the eye and his eyes were smiling, sort of twinkling. He told me that he knew my grandfather (I'd never mentioned anybody except Mom and Dad and my grandfather had died in 1950.) Told me that he'd studied with him years ago and that they had taught together for a few years at one of the schools in my county. Told me he had watched my mother and her siblings grow up and that he remembered when I was born and how my grandfather told him that he had given me my name. Said he had moved away from my county to this one to take a job as a postmaster and had retired a few years back. Said his wife had died and his children had moved away. Said he was right proud to see me again and that I had 'growed up good' and my grandfather would be proud that I was a teacher.

I cried. I just hugged him and cried. And I haven't thought of that in many many years; I can't even remember his name now, but I remember his words. When I told my parents, they remembered him and my dad said he'd make sure to visit him when he was in that county.

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