Second cousins Denny (RSHS ??) and Kevin (RSHS ??) Loftis lived between our

house and the church.  Denny rolled up on his bicycle into our front yard boasting

that we had better keep Zeke tied because Danny Loftis, his daddy, had bought a

German Sheppard.  Denny proclaimed a new sheriff was in town and his Sheppard

had a bounty on Zeke - Wanted: Dead or Alive!

 

Denny and Kevin's dog was a beautiful, A.K.C. registered German Sheppard.  He

looked exactly like Rin-Tin-Tin, another canine Hollywood star.  He seemed to be

about eight to ten inches taller than Zeke.  Furthermore, their Sheppard appeared to

have zero body fat and was as solid as a rock.  In fact, Kevin and Denny named him

Rock.

 

Kevin and Denny's dad Danny was a New York native who came South to get paid to

jump out of perfectly good airplanes.  While stationed at Fort Bragg, Danny ran into a

Southern Belle, Sally McDonald ( my first cousin), whom he charmed in a New York

minute with that Yankee accent according to Danny, if you can believe him.  The more

likely scenario is that Sally charmed Danny with "y'all come back now, ya har" and

Southern cookin'.  After serving his hitch in the 82nd Air-borne, Danny moved to

Rockingham to begin life with his bride Sally as a Damn Yankee!  Everyone in the

South knows the difference between a Yankee and a Damn Yankee.  A Yankee comes

to the South to visit and goes back home while a  Damn Yankee comes to the South to

visit and stays!  All the relatives and all of Richmond County welcomed Danny with

open arms.  We were all charmed by that New York accent.  He was the first Yankee

soldier to come to McDonald Community since Sherman burned his way to Atlanta. 

Danny stayed, Sherman kept marching; we fell in love with Danny, we still hate

Sherman.  Danny affectionately became known to everyone as Yank.  Danny bought

himself a box of tools, taught himself to work on cars, and became a successful

business owner of Yank's Garage located in Hamlet.

 

We lived between Kevin and Denny's home and the house of their Grandpa Furman

McDonald (my uncle).  Every afternoon, Yank and his two boys went down to see

Uncle Furman in Yank's loud ' 51 Ford pick-up.  Rock made a habit to run behind that

truck as Danny passed our house running about 30 mph with Denny and Kevin

sitting in the bed.  The missing - muffler sound of that ' 51 Ford cranking up was like

an alarm clock as Zeke came out from under our front shrub bushes.  As Yank rolled

by, Zeke made a charge across the highway and threw his barrel chest into Rock much

like a 6' 5", 240 pound tight-end laying out a 5' 10", 170 pound cornerback.  When the

dogs stopped rolling, Zeke was always on top.  Zeke fought with a killer instinct and a

bulldog death grip but would always let Rock up to run away to fight another day. 

Perhaps the German Sheppard connection induced a touch of compassion in Zeke. 

Rock really needed the memory of the Taylors' collie.  Zeke whipped Rock three or

four times per week.  No one else in the community had a dog that could even come

close to beating Rock.  "I try harder because I'm number two!" explained Rock's

attitude.  

 

Denny and Kevin always bragged about Rock beating Zeke in their front yard.  An

animal will always fight harder defending his own turf but I never once believed Rock

could beat Zeke anywhere, any place, any time.

 

One afternoon Denny stopped by while riding his bicycle to tell Gary, Ken, and me

how badly Rock had beaten Zeke earlier in the day.  Alas, while describing this

slaughter who should appear at the edge of our driveway but Rock, the Bulldog

Basher himself.  The first to notice Rock's appearance was Brownie.  At first bark,

Zeke came out from under the bushes like Jack Cooper (RHS ' 66) coming out of the

blocks in the 100 yard dash.  Likewise, with the same quickness, Denny pivoted on his

bicycle seat and yelled, "Run Rock, run!"  That battle cry has gone down in history. 

The story is always repeated anytime Zeke's name, Rock's name, or Denny's name is

mentioned.  By the way, Rock eventually started riding in the bed of that ' 51 Ford

pick-up.  I never figured out if the truck ride was Yank's idea, Denny's idea, Kevin's

idea, or Rock's idea; regardless, it was a wise idea.  "Run Rock, Run!": a childhood

memory of growing up in Rockingham, North Carolina - a small textile town in the

South in the ' 50s & ' 60s.

 

 

To be continued ...