For this edition of the BF, I thought I’d sit down and spin a good old mill hill story; one that involved some of those quaint remembrances held by many of our brethren shuttle dodgers. Something like, “ we never locked our screen door”, or, “we slept with the windows up and the doors open all the time“. Well, that’s all a sweet notion, and I'd love to romanticize with you, but by the time I came along if you left the doors open all the time that way you’d likely wake up with nothing left in the house but you and the bed.
Sure, we were relatively safe, but there were more than a few bad eggs in the basket. I think it would be safe to say that after the silencing of the looms, there was a perceptible increase in lawlessness. However, that is not to say that all of the following examples were instances of malicious intent, but some of them were; and for whatever reason, these memories have stuck with me all these years.
Sure, we were relatively safe, but there were more than a few bad eggs in the basket. I think it would be safe to say that after the silencing of the looms, there was a perceptible increase in lawlessness. However, that is not to say that all of the following examples were instances of malicious intent, but some of them were; and for whatever reason, these memories have stuck with me all these years.
- The local pyromaniac-let’s call him Charles-was a dedicated craftsman. After setting a fire, he was always the first one on the scene to help put it out. An apparent hall mark of pyromania. A little prison time for performing his chosen craft and some other misdeeds seemed to set him straight…or did it? He was among the pioneers of neighborhood glue sniffers and gasoline huffers. A luminary indeed, an artisan. Add that deviance to his proclivity for burning things down, and you had an intriguing mix. One that you damn sure kept your eye on.
Once in a while the villagers would take matters into their own hands.
- Abusive husband shot by battered wife that appears to be a case of self defense-check. Background: Hubby comes home from an inebriational stroll and commences to beating on his wife. By all accounts, he had a penchant for this type of behavior. But this time she was waiting on him. The shot propelled him backward into a lazy boy where he died of his wounds. After an investigation, she was charged, but eventually released.
- Abusive son in law shot by father of battered daughter that seems most likely a case of self defense -check. A little background: Daughter arrives at mom and dads crying hysterically and claiming that her hubby has beaten her up. Like clock work, the aforementioned white, twenty something male storms through the front door, cursing and waving a pistol. His first step into the living room was also his last. Playing the role of Grim Reaper, the father of the bleeding bride punched that fellow's ticket to eternity with two well placed shots to the upper torso. After an investigation, he was charged, but eventually released.
- Abusive nephew hacked with hatchet by “fed up” uncle-check. The nephew (Danny) survived, but the hair never grew back over his left ear-ouch. Background: The nephew in question here was a notorious "thumper" as Col. G. Stonehill described Rooster Cogburn in True Grit. I once saw Danny dook it out with a guy outside the skating rink. He was the smaller of the two, but he was relentless in a Mike Tyson kind of way. He had the guy bleeding and on the ground whimpering, "ok, ok". I'm sure the uncle was aware of Danny's aggressive tendencies; hence, the hatchet.
- Father of pyromaniac Charles blown into the great beyond by a fellow A&E Grill companion-check. It is probably safe to say that the shooting was over money, a woman or both-double check. A veritable redneck stew of beer battered idiocy simmered over blazing stupidity. I believe our esteemed colleague, Tony R. Durham, was an eye witness to this infamous event (or at least the aftermath).
OK, I know what you're thinking. "This guy (meaning me, your humble author) is hung up on drunkards, murderers and fire bugs. Has he nothing else?" Which I'm happy to reply to by saying...well, I might not. I do have some fond memories, and I'm sure I'll get around to them...eventually; but for now it's gonna be drunkards, murderers and fire bugs. Those were the days my friend.
4 comments:
Well put.
Just wanted to stop back by when I had a few more minutes to ask a question. What is "the Brandon file"? Is this a post you do on a regular bases? Can you tell me where this mill is? My grandmother lived in a mill village in Austell GA; this looks very similar. Do you mind saying where you got the name for this blog and what the water house is? I don't know why, but I'm intrigued.
Dan,
The mill village of Brandon is located in West Greenville, SC. It's the home of 'Shoeless' Joe Jackson and the authors of this blog. The name comes from the old alma mater from our now-defunct high school, Parker High. "Midst the hum of her industries..."
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