Ruth Dawson - Columnist

Pamela McRae

I’m still reminiscing about the farming days with Chester, and remembered one scary moment. Maybe if I tell you, someone else will avoid similar danger.
While harvesting the corn we worked so hard for, I was standing in the wagon bed and Chester made a quick turn to harvest the next row. The chute that emptied the corn into the wagon just missed my head by inches as it swung around! Scared us both to death, but taught me to never stand in the bed of the wagon within reach of the harvester!
I almost didn’t get to share what I’m going to tell you next!
There is a spring that runs from near the field into the ponds. One of my favorite things to do was go to the Pond by the spring, and a big beech-nut tree there, and just sit. Memories flood my soul today as I relive some of the happiest days of my life. You had to watch for snakes, but the sounds that I could hear would keep me alert and filled with wonder. I could imagine the travels of this spring water as I sat there. It fed the Pond, the canal, Bear Creek, the Tennessee River, and even the great Mississippi River. Every drop that flowed was useful.
Then, there stood the big beech-nut tree. Names of long ago, and now, are carved on the tree. Many of the people are gone, but I had memories of most of them. Years ago, there was an old wooden boat used for fishing and just exploring the beauty of this wonderland.
A few years ago, my daughter Angie carried me to the Tupelo Elvis Presley center that was hosting Joe Hudspeth, Jr. with his new colorful book of photos of nature in Mississippi.
His mother and I were friends when we taught together in Memphis/Whitehaven. She moved to Mississippi for her husband, Joe, to work on the campaign of soon-to-be governor Cliff Finch.
We would get into the boat and meander through the trees over to Highway 30, check out the cypress knees (where many had been cut and I’d carried them to Mississippi State in the 1940s.) the professors used them for making table lamps! I wonder today who has them and do they know the history of where they came from?
I told Joe, Jr., at our Tupelo visit that, “he hadn’t filmed nature until you come to Tishomingo count and visit the Cypress Pond.”
Time spent there was one of my most cherished memories of my almost sixty years of married life.
Here, I’d listen. I’d hear all kinds of animal and bird sounds. I’d think, these are sounds of God’s wonderful nature. Birds, fish slapping the water, and echoes of sounds far, far away. Sometimes a big splash would come from an alligator rolling off a big log, his splash waking the quiet of the pond and sending many scurrying away. They knew the big alligator had slept, and woke up hungry! He would forage for his supper.
I still sit in wonder sometimes at having been given the privilege of this wonderful gift of experiencing nature at its best.
I still love the smell of the good earth, sounds of more creatures than I can name, as I waited for the tractor to stop. It was my day-dreaming wake-up call, and I needed to get back to work!
One more anecdote about the spring: My husband, Chester, and his brothers Faye and Ray grew up in the 1930s and one of their tasks was to fetch water from the spring in little casks and bring them back for the farm workers. Their mama was terrified they’d encounter snakes she was sure infested the path to the spring, and instilled in them the same fear. Once, Big Daddy (Frank) knew they had been gone too long to bring fresh water. He cut him a switch, and headed for the spring to help them remember their task.
Before he got to the spring, there stood Ray in the path, frozen still, just looking down, unaware of anything. He gave him a lick, said nothing and moved along. There stood Chester looking down, also frozen stiff with fear after seeing a big snake cross the path. Big Daddy gave him a lick, and Chester jumped into the spring! He knew he had done been caught by one of those big snakes Big Mama had told them about!
“Boys! Get your kegs, fill them and hurry back to those thirsty men!” No other words! Big Daddy knew the fear built up in those boys by their mama. I laugh every time I think of this story.
(Editor’s note: a quick check with an authority confirmed that, indeed, the department of fish and wildlife introduced alligators to this area in an effort to control beavers. One was killed near Jeff Daniels’ garage on Highway 30, and was apparently in the Vidette. This editor will no longer be longing to canoe.)