Remember To Remind Me To Remember Before I Forget What I Wanted To Remember
November 15 2005
(note: the memory that follows this partial email I sent to Bob is a reply to it -
hope you enjoy the history contained within from Bob's Grandpa Scott McDonald.jb)
From: Joel RR
Sent: Friday, September 09, 2005 10:19 AM
Subject: Re: Thank you for the thank you
Hey Bob - don't worry about being in a hurry to get those memories to me. Heck - I
think you did a pretty good job so far, working a 60 hour a week job and still finding
time to write these stories. Shoot, I have been retired since '99 and still find it hard to
do as much on the computer as I would like to. But it's like you said, as you read these
memories on the website, it makes your own start flowing. But it does take time to put
it all down in words. So, don't worry about the time factor - you're doing a great job
with what you've sent me so far.
I am sure the stories you send about Gerald, Tommy, the Mayor's daughter and
others will be appreciated by all.
Happy Birthday to your Dad - my mom will be 82 on Sept 29. She still lives out on old
Ellerbe Rd. She loves going to Senior Citizens 4 days a week - across from the old
locker plant in Rham. But she is slowly losing her memory. You can talk to her and a
few minutes later she will repeat what she said 2 or 3 minutes earlier.
It would be great if you could get your dad to tell you some stories to put on the
website. Don't know if you saw it but I had a man, Grady Campbell, that wrote a
great story of how it was in the 1920s.
http://rockinghammemories.com/campbell-school-1925.
Sandra gives her best to you also.
Joel
Joel, hope you do not mind waiting sixty days for a reply to the Email you sent me in
September. I had not forgotten you, just have been busy and do not foresee any lulls
in the future. I just moved into a new slot at work labeled as "team captain." Basically
I am the military equivalent of a Drill Sergeant for new hires wanting to become car
salesmen. Today's youth is not like our generation. I never knew anyone in the ' 60s
allergic to work.
A mind is a terrible thing to lose, more specifically a memory. I never forgot to reply
back to you, Joel. I only forgot the messages I promised to deliver. I can remember
when I was a ten year-old kid sitting on the front porch with my Grandpa Scott
McDonald listening to some detailed adventure he had before the turn of the century.
As Grandpa sat there in his swing with his eyes closed, it was as if he were in a time
warp traveling light years back in time. Grandpa became a human time capsule who
made the past come alive. He was recognized by all the historians of Richmond
County and even the state of North Carolina as a local history genius especially since
he had lived American history through the eyewitness accounts of his father and his
grandfather in addition to his eighty years plus of living. Mr. Isaac London, the
founder and editor-in-chief of the Rockingham Post Dispatch, a forerunner of the
Richmond County Daily Journal, was the recognized "official" historian of Richmond
county and perhaps my Grandpa's best friend. Whenever a county resident
questioned Mr. London about ancestors and family, the "official" county historian
referred him to my Grandpa. Grandpa who died in 1967 at the age of eighty-five
could put you on the doorsteps of the Guilford County Courthouse in 1771 alongside
his Grandpa Daniel McDonald during the Colonies' fight for independence. The
battle was one of the first strategic losses for the top British General Cornwallis in the
South. With five hundred total troops either wounded or killed, Cornwallis turned
and ran like a scalded dog. My Great-Great Grandpa Daniel and General Nathaniel
Greene sent the British retreating with their tails between their bloody redcoats and
they did not stop until they got to Wilmington! Just stop and think how long ago that
was. In 1967, not many men in North Carolina could even say "My Grandpa fought in
the Civil War." Furthermore, even fewer men in America could make the claim that
Grandpa Scott could, "My Grandpa fought in the Revolutionary War!" You do the
math. That feat would be the equivalent to someone in today's society saying, "My
Grandpa fought in the War Of 1812!" Grandpa could run his mind through two
hundred years of time in any two hour period. Yet, if I sat there on his front porch
long enough, he would start repeating the exact details over and over. In addition, he
would start calling me "Roy" instead of "Bob." Suddenly, twenty decades became
easier for Grandpa to remember than the last twenty minutes. Old age works tricks
on the mind. Joel, thank goodness I saved the Email from you. I owe you some
information and some answers.
I will soon have the story complete on Tommy Covington ( RHS ' 66). Hope you get
as big a kick out of the story as I did when he told me and as I did every time I added
another line. Glad I did not delete your reply back to me. I would never purposely do
that but I am still trying to master this internet invention..In the past, I have hit the
inbox delete button before I could realize what I had done and electronically erased
something important by accident. This computer technology reminds me of a 1973
Buick Rivera that I bought. Back in the early ' 70s people were sitting in long lines at
the pump just to buy five gallons on odd/even days when I decided I had to have this
automobile. Remember the lines? Now that I think about it, guess that is why I got
such a good deal at Scott Buick in Charlotte. It had so many buttons and knobs on it
that I never got around to pushing and turning all. I was afraid the car might do
something crazy with me rolling down the road. As I said, I have the same fear of
computers. I forgot all about the mayor's daughter until I read your reply of
September 9, 2005. By the way, I do remember that two ton tank had a 455 four
barrel engine that sent the big Buick down the road like it was shot out of a cannon.
Oh just to hear the deep moan of a four barrel carburetor crying for 93 "high test" one
more time. Remember? Yeah, I know you do; I have heard that same cry coming
from under a Chevelle hood. My save of your reply also brought back my promise of a
recap of the midnight ride to Morven. Stay tuned for my experience with the Mayor's
daughter. Remember to remind me to remember before I forget what I wanted to
remember.
No, I did not marry a girl from Rockingham. I pulled her out of the tobacco fields of
Lenoir County from a little town called Deep Run. Actually, Sally was a substitute for
a blind date that I first met on the beach. The last time I walked out of cousin Vernon
McDonald's ( RHS ' 64) tobacco field I decided that I would never step back into a
tobacco field even to chase women. Now a yellow bikini on the sands of Atlantic
Beach is an entirely different story. Again, another memory for another time, stay
tuned! Remember to remind me to remember before I forget what I wanted to
remember.
You are right. I need to talk to my dad about the good old days of his prime time and
capture his memory on paper or tape. I will have to catch him when he has some
available time. Daddy told me he just had the largest garden in thirteen years this past
summer. He is only eighty-five; maybe I can slow him down when he gets old.
Remember to remind me to remember before I forget what I wanted to remember.
Keep up the good work, Joel. Your website is truly my home away from home! Just
like Grandpa Scott, rockinghamremembered.com clearly brings to mind childhood
memories, those precious childhood memories of growing up in Rockingham, North
Carolina - a small textile town in the South in the ' 50s & the ' 60s.