hauntedliving

My mother was in the hospital after an auto accident.  Grandma offered to stay with Barry, Beverly, and me while Daddy worked.  She got us up for school, made our breakfast, cleaned, did laundry, and cooked dinner.  After dinner Grandma would sit with us while we did our homework and Daddy went to the hospital to visit Mama.

One night for dinner Grandma cooked a big pot of butterbeans with ham hocks.  She cooked them on low for hours and the smell filled the entire house.  We watched the clock waiting for Daddy to return from work so we could eat.  After what seemed like days Daddy walked though the door.  Grandma poured the butterbeans into a bowl and placed the beans and a plate of biscuits on the table.  We quickly sat down and said our blessing.  As soon as the Amen was said we snatched up our forks.  I was just about to put the first bite in my mouth when I noticed tiny black objects in the bean juice.  I looked around the table at Daddy, Grandma, Barry, and Beverly who were devouring the butterbeans.  With a sinking heart I told Daddy that the beans had black ants in them.  At once you could have heard a pin drop.  Every fork stopped mid air between plate and mouth.  Daddy told me that it was just the hulls from the beans and to eat my food.  No one moved until I told him “well Daddy this is the first time the hulls have had little legs” That’s when everyone at the table tossed their forks to the table.  We ate sandwiches that night for dinner.

My husband and I just recently returned from a trip to Panama City Beach.  The trip was relaxing but plagued with bad luck. It was small stuff but upsetting none the less. 

I woke the morning we were due to leave with something wrong with my right eye.  It hurt though nothing was in my eye.  My vision in that eye was blurry and it constantly ran tears.  As I am the one who needs to read the driving directions I was worried I would not be any help to my husband.  But by the time we were ready to leave the tears and blurriness were gone.

The next sign of bad luck came in Dolton, Alabama when a man pulled his pickup Truck out into our path as we were traveling at about 50 miles per hour.  It was raining and water had pooled on the roads. My husband hit the brakes and turned the wheel.  We slid but my husband managed to direct the car into a small area off the street.  We missed the truck by inches.

We have made the trip to Panama City Beach for years and most of the time much later in September.  We always visit Alvin’s Island to see the birds, pick out gifts for the family members who baby-sit our dogs, and play the quarter machines in back.  This year the birds were gone and the machines shut down.  Even though Alvin’s had an 85 percent off sale we walked out of the store empty handed too.  No one is our family wants an alligator head.  Alvin’s used to have beautiful gifts for a reasonable price but not anymore.

We also look forward to visiting the local Walmart Super Store where they usually have a large selection of Halloween Décor and a large selection of dog toys.  This year they had no Halloween decorations and only a small section of dog toys.

One night for dinner we had planned to eat at Margaritaville in the new Pier Park.  We went into what we thought was the entrance, were greeted and seated.  We had already placed out drink order when we realized our mistake.  We had mistakenly entered The Back Porch restaurant instead.  We didn’t want to be rude so we went ahead and ordered.  That was a mistake for the food was nasty to both my husband and me.

I didn’t get much sleep the last night there because the people who rented the room next to us kept yelling all night.  Our TV went out and had to be replaced.  The replacement TV would shut off on us.  Overall it was a great trip and I am glad we went but next time I hope for better luck.

When the news came on TV about a husband and wife who were killed in North Georgia by dogs it brought back some frightening memories for me.  My brother and I could have suffered the same fate as the couple in North Georgia.

I was eleven years old and my little brother, Barry, was six years old.  We wanted to go over and play with our cousins, Shannon and Jack, at their house which was only about a fourth of a mile (if that far) from our house.  To get to our cousins house we had to go past two houses next to our house and turn up a dirt road and go over two hills, one of which was steep, to reach their house.  It wasn’t far and we lived in a rural area that was very safe.

I decided to ride my bike there with Barry riding on the back of my bike.  We got to our cousin’s house that afternoon and played until our Aunt reminded us it was getting late.  Barry and I jumped on the bike and raced for home.  Just as we were riding down the steep hill a pack of dogs surrounded the bike.  The dogs snarled and snapped at us while I tried to drive though them.  Just when it looked as if we would be able to escape one of largest dogs grabbed my ankle and pulled.  The bike wrecked and Barry and I both went over the handle bars and onto the dirt road.  A quick thinking neighbor who had been watching grabbed his gun and fired into the air.  The gun shots scared the dogs who then ran into the woods.  We were lucky to live through our encounter with wild dogs.  Sadly the couple in North Georgia were not so lucky.

While my Granddaughter Lauryn was here she asked if we could sit outside after dark and watch for UFO’s and ghost.  I was not wild about the idea because the back yard scares the heck out of me at night.  There are so many trees in the front yard that only a small portion of the sky is visible from the porch so sitting in front was out of the question.

I grabbed a beer for courage, along with binoculars, a flashlight, the camera, and bravely went out to the patio table on the back porch.  Once it was completely dark that old familiar feeling of fear overcame me.  Since I was so scared I was talking none stop when the sound of rustling came from the bushes at the side of the yard.  I took the flashlight with shaking hands and went over to the bushes.  With the light shining into the bushes two pairs of eyes looked back at me.  With relief I saw it was the two pesky armadillos that provide us with holes in the yard.

After about an hour of sitting outside I saw something white moving in front of the barn. I took some photos and asked Lauryn if we could call it a night.  The mosquitoes helped her to make the decision to go inside.

Last night my youngest son saw a large black animal in the back yard.  He told me he only got a quick look at the animal but it looked like a panther and ran like one.  I am so glad what ever it was did not make an appearance while Lauryn and I were outside by our selves.

In November 2008, during deer season, a hunter sitting in a deer stand hears something coming through the woods.  He lifts his rifle and waits for what he thinks is a deer to wander into the clearing.  A brown animal steps through the brush and stops.  The man is shocked to see the animal is not a deer but is a very large brown cat.  He takes aim and fires, killing the cat. 

The local news ran the story along with a photo of the cat draped over the man’s shoulders.  It was thought at first that the cat was a Cougar but it was later deemed to be a Panther.  At first Authorities believed the animal had been in captivity for a while then released or escaped.  Now it has been proven that the Panther was not a pet at all.  In fact the animal was a Panther that made its way from Florida to Georgia. Now those who witnessed the Panthers and were made to feel stupid are vindicated. Over the years witnesses were told; there are no Panthers in Georgia.  My husband, our sons, our daughters, friends, neighbors, and hunters, are among many who have witnessed black Panthers around here for years.  If you have proof such as photos, tracks, or droppings the Georgia Wildlife Authorities will investigate. 

 Authorities have admitted the Panthers are real and they are in Georgia.  That is enough for the witnesses.

I don’t remember much about my biological Dad.  Most of what I do remember is Daddy suffering from the brain cancer that took his life when I was just three years old.  Family members tell me he loved to pull jokes on people.  Laughter was an important part of life to Daddy; his own and others.  Some of his tricks and jokes took some planning like the joke he pulled with the help of my Grandfather.

One night, Daddy and Papa took a long pipe and went into the cemetery in Franklin, Georgia just before the midnight shift change at the local mill.  They laid the pipe down on the ground so it would run along the edge of a grave. This way one end would be behind a large headstone near the drive that cut through the cemetery.  Daddy and Papa hid with the other end of the pipe behind another large headstone.  It wasn’t long until they had their first victims. 

Two men were walking up the drive toward the mill. When they got close to the end of the pipe my Daddy moaned into the pipe.  The men stopped and looked at each other.  Next Daddy said in a dragging voice full of suffering “Oh, your walking on my bones”.  The men both screamed and ran like the devil was after them.  Daddy and Papa scared the wits out of five more people over the next twenty minutes until one brave soul almost walked on the pipe.  They decided to call it a night, hid the pipe in the woods, and took the back way out of the cemetery.

As they were walking along the road they met a man who asked if they were going into the cemetery. When they told him they were heading home he replied “Good, cause they is a haint in the graveyard and he got bones scattered from here to kingdom come.  He be in pain too”

There was talk for weeks about the talking ghost, until my Daddy’s next trick that is.

Most of the time I use insect repellant like Off or Deepwoods when I am working outside.  I don’t put sunscreen on any part of my body except for my face.  Lately though I have noticed the skin on my arms and legs getting dry and sun damaged.  I decided right then and there that I needed to start using Sunscreen when working in the yard. 

A few days later I checked my list of projects that need to be done this spring.  One of the tasks was cleaning behind the barn.  Pine straw had built up next to the barn as well as an old hose pipe, fence posts, wire, and other odd junk.  I needed to rake the area and get rid of the junk.

I covered my legs, arms, face, and neck with Sunscreen.  I then grabbed a box of trash bags, my gloves, and the insect repellant.  Just as I was about to apply the insect repellant  it hit me that it might not be a good idea to use both. Would they interact with each other?  Could it cause a rash or even cause sunburn?  Can you use both at the same time? I debated for a while finally deciding not to risk using both at the same time.  Hoping that the Sunscreen would keep the bugs off, I took my supplies and went to the barn.

I had been working for about two minutes when I happened to look down at my legs.  At least fifty Deer Ticks were crawling up my legs while more were crawling onto my shoes.  I ran for the water hose but ticks have the ability to hang on even under water pressure.  I had to pick them off one at a time.  That is really hard to do when you are jumping around and yelling.  I even found those awful pests in my shoes.  Now I have to make a decision.  Do I wear Sunscreen and get covered in ticks and Redbugs or have skin like Leather but no bug bites or itching?   

Back in the 60’s when I was a very young girl I would spend two weeks each summer with my Paternal Grandparents in rural Heard County.  From where they lived I could walk to the Alabama line.  The nearest town was Franklin Georgia which was about seven miles away. 

From the end of my visit until I returned Little Murr (short for little Mother) would save all the Reader’s Digest and Christian magazines for me to read. I have always been a book worm and would go crazy without something to read.  I would spend hours in the old swing on the front porch reading.  I would have a glass of iced tea or lemonade on the old crossed leg table beside the swing.  The only sounds were the birds, a Bob White, and the buzzing of insects.

During this particular summer one of the Reader’s Digest I was reading had an article on UFO’s.  I knew what UFO’s were from all the horror movies on TV but until that day I did not know they were real.  Images of evil aliens or monsters pouring out of UFO’s filled me with fear.  I quickly put it out of my mind when my cousin Garrett dropped by.

The only things on my mind when I went into the outhouse the next day were spiders, wasp, and snakes.  Those were three things I did not want to share the outhouse with.  I had just settled down to do my business when suddenly a loud sound came from outside.  I realized the noise was coming from above me.  My first thought was a plane was about to land in the backyard then another thought popped into my head.  It had to be a UFO!  I pulled up my underwear and slammed open the door of the outhouse.  I ran for the house, screaming and the entire time looking up into the sky.  That is until I ran smack into the back of the house.  I bounced off the wall and fell flat on my back.  While I lay there fighting to get my breath back into my lungs I spotted the helicopter I mistook for a UFO. I was too embarrassed to tell anyone why I really screamed so I told them a snake had been in the outhouse.  Right then and there I made a vow to lay off the horror movies for a few years.

In a recent post I used the term “crazy as a Betsy Bug”.  One of my readers left a comment asking “what is a Betsy Bug?”   Well a Betsy Bug is a Bess Beetle.  In the South we also call them pinching bugs. We have our own language down here. For instance Chiggers are red bugs to us.  We use the word tote instead of carry.  We have yards instead of lawns and porches instead of decks.  The outhouse was a parlor.  We don’t have many of those any more, thank God.  We still say ain’t unless there is a teacher around or we are applying for a job. 

I remember going to Grandma’s house on Sunday. Before we were out of the car she would holler (yell)” have ya’ll been to bread”?  That means have you eaten yet?  She would cook big butterbeans, cornbread, crackling bread, fried chicken, and on the side would be hoop cheese and onion.  Sometimes she would make Polk salad, but I stayed away from that stuff.  It can kill you if it’s not cooked right. We would drink sweet iced tea and buttermilk.  It was so good it would make your tongue slap your brains out.  We were so hungry our stomach was kissing our back bone.  If my cousin Butch (Wayne) was there shooting off firecrackers it would make me as nervous as a long tail cat in a room full of rockers.  We love those sayings.

Well ya’ll I’m fixin to (about to) go heat up some hoecake and collards. Yummm!

I used to go to night classes at the Technical School which was about twenty five miles from my house.  Back then my car was really old and would brake down on me a lot.  I didn’t want to make the drive by myself.  I decided to ask around and try to find someone who would want to ride to school and back with me.  I got lucky and found a brother and sister who needed a ride to school and back.  It was fate that Doyle and Patty were looking for someone who they could ride to school with.  This helped them and me.  We became friends and enjoyed the rides together.

One night I went to pick them up as usual but they were not quite ready.  They asked me to come in and have some coffee while I waited for them.  It was a cold night and the hot coffee warmed me up.  After about ten minutes they were ready to go.

On the way to school we noticed an odd noise coming from under the hood of the car.  The car was not acting up in any way so I kept going.  Soon we pulled into the parking lot of the school.  We then parted ways and went to our classes.

I could not concentrate on my classes that night.  I was worried that something was seriously wrong with my car.  Finally it was time to go home.  Once we were in the car I started it up and listened for the noise.  All we could hear was the regular motor sound.  When we were almost out of town the noise began again.  I decided to turn around and try to make it back to the truck stop about a quarter mile back.  When we were almost there the car died.  Doyle got out and opened the hood.  As soon as he lifted the hood he found Martha, their best laying hen.  She had been riding on the motor the whole time and even stayed there while we were in school.  Doyle called his Dad who came for us in his truck.  Since there was only one seat in the truck I had to sit in Doyle’s lap and hold Martha the whole way home.  After her ordeal she was not in a good mood.  Every few seconds she would peck me on the arm.  I think Martha learned her lesson by going to school.  During the rest of her life she never got on a motor again.  As for the car; I had a broke belt.  I think Martha had something to do with that.