Southern Fried Chicken

I never told Bayno when Mama was going to make fried chicken. If I didn’t say anything, then all the cracklings in the pan would be mine. When the chicken was brown and crisp, I would take the spatula and press it against the bottom of the skillet and scrape the cracklings out of the grease, and when they were cool enough, I’d pour them into my mouth.

That summer was different from other summers even though the garden was the same. All its blooming and growing meant a good harvest along with back breaking work. Sometimes I’d stand in the middle of a row with both hands pressed into my back, my hands making a V and I would bend backwards and listen to all the bones popping and feel the muscles stretch so much they hurt. But with the sun beating down, I’d set my jaw and finish the row no matter if I was weeding, hoeing, or picking.
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This post was submitted by Julie Eger.

By Dean Jones, Carthage, TX

In memory of Stubby “Bobo” Jones, 07/11/95 – 02/10/10

When I was about 10 years old, I learned what a “dumb bull” was. This learning experience was courtesy of my grandfather. When one hears the words “dumb bull” all kinds of images pass through one’s mind. Images of a crazy cow or a brainless runaway bull passed through mine when I first heard the term.

Dumb Bull

Actually, a “dumb bull” is not a living creature at all. It is a simple device that works without electricity or electronics. It is a crude “sound effects” generator. The sound a dumb bull creates is almost guaranteed to stampede cattle, cure constipation in youngsters,

increase sales of ammunition in rural areas, as well as cause the switchboard of your local 911 operator to light up on a boring night in a small town! In short, a dumb bull is a practical joker device that will scare the living daylights out of anything that hears it. Dumb bulls were popular in the “good old days” of our grandparents in rural areas. Dumb bulls are also mentioned in The Foxfire Books.

Cooper Boone

I grew up in a small small town in Minnesota that was basically run by nuns and farmers. Life in my hometown was a place where doors were left unlocked, games were played in backyards not on computers or tvs, people waved when they passed by, the American Flag was honored and a crucifix was not a political statement but one of faith. But, like all things life and times changed.

The world became a different place and the commonly held values and beliefs that I was raised with seemed to become more uncommon as time progressed. This is not a negative statement on progress. I think amazing things have happened over the past 20 years that are magical.
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This post was submitted by Cooper Boone.