Although Fall is by far my favorite time of the year because of the beautiful colors of earth and sky, it was not always that way. Back during my childhood days my favorite season, as with most children of course, was summertime.

 

     That wonderful time for me was freedom and foolish fun. I often shudder when I think about those days and think of the crazy things I managed to get myself into. Its a wonder I'm still here to write about it.

 

     I would start getting into the summer mood earlier than most. Usually about the second week of April I would start seeing those tiny green sprigs popping up in the yard. Then about May, it was time for the shoes to come off. I can remember vividly that feel of that first "no shoes" day and the feel of that cool ground on the tender bottoms of my feet. But by the 4th of July, they would be like cowhide.

 

     Back then we got a full summer vacation, May 28th thru Sept 4th usually. Not like this ridiculous schedule we have today with football games in August. Most of us kids all had a favorite school day, that being the last school day. And what a wonderful day that was for me. I remember my first last day of school. It was the last day of my first year which seemed like most of my life. I remember walking home that day with my sister Susie. She had just finished the 3rd grade and I went by Miss Gibson's classroom to hook up with her for our final track home. It was all she could do to convince me it was over, it just seemed too good to be true.

 

     But there we were going down the hill for the last time that school year. Then past Pee Dee Methodist Church, across the old cement bridge over Steely Branch then up the slate rocks by the Pee Dee Baptist Church. We would always stop at Mrs Davis's spigot for a drink of cool water. Then it was up and around Hog Back to Bunker street to our house. Summer and all its wonderful fun had finally arrived.

 

     Ahead of me lay all the good days I could enjoy without homework or dreading Monday mornings. Monday for now would be just the beginning of another week of fun. All I had to worry about now was to get up and out of the house before Dad could assign me one of his hundred or so grueling projects he deviously assigned to me to ruin my summer fun. It probably just seemed that way to me back then. It's kind of humorous when I think about how I dreaded getting up on school days but now I would rise with the sun and be heading down Bunker Street with the memory of teachers and all that fading like the dew on the grass.

 

     There would be several events coming like every other summer. Bible School would soon start up which was always enjoyable to all the kids on the mill hill, I can still remember those big galvanized tubs full of ice and soft drinks. I always enjoyed the crafts we made, birdhouses and such. Family trips down to Ocean Drive where we enjoyed hot dogs and french fries, walking on the pier and hanging out in the pavilion. I can still hear that loud carnival music. And I always stayed in the water til I was sunburned. It never failed and I never learned, seemed like.

 

     Then there was Saturday nights and the Rockingham Speedway and watching all those jalopies sliding in the dirt around turn one. I remember watching old number "9", Bobby Webb trying his best to pass "Big John Sears" but usually fell short. There was plenty of excitement from many other drivers as well. Names like Bobby Joe Blue, "Wild" Bill Bostic, "Windin" Wayne Andrews, to name a few. Me and most of my friends had the best view of the race track even if we did come home with pine sap all over us.

 

     It was for sure a wonderful time. I can't help but laugh at the memory of seeing boys walking around with the loud buzz of Junebugs tied on a string. It all seems so hilarious now when I think about it. Then at night we really got wild, I mean nothing tame like chasing fireflies. We did things that were downright dangerous.

 

     We used to go down and play on the top of Pee Dee mill, running around the edge with no worry of the danger of falling three stories. My brother even climbed down inside the smokestack at Martha Baum Mill. He said he could see thru to the outside because the old cement was so broken away. I used to climb inside the Honeytown water tower. Why we did these things, who knows. I guess as the old saying goes "because it was there."

 

     But by far the thing I enjoyed most was the pranks we pulled on people. Pranks always had to be done at night so as to make escape easier. Believe me when I tell you escape was imperative because a lot of times it went down bad when people became irate. There were several very clever ideas we used for our fun.

 

     One was the "Silk Scarf." With this prank we would tie a silk scarf to a long series of rubber bands which we would stretch across the road at night. When someone came walking down the street we would release it just in front of their face. The light scarf would shoot across in a flash. It was so funny watching them look around and wonder if they really saw something or was it their imagination.

 

     Another prank that always brought us amusement was the "Potato Bomb." Now I am sure a lot of you have heard of the Potato Gun, where you pour a little alcohol into a steel cylinder, then force a large potato into one end and then fire it like a cannon by igniting the alcohol. Well, we had a lot simpler method to accomplish this. We would save all that trouble by just forcing a potato into the end of the tailpipe of someone's automobile. Then we would hide nearby and wait til the victim would come out and crank his car. Then, "Kaboom !," as the potato shot a half a block! The sound usually scared the heck out of everyone on the hill and even more startling to the owner of the car. This was a lot of fun until one night we pushed the spud too far in. When Mr Baldwin cranked his car the whole end of his tail pipe sailed across the road. It's a wonder we didn't kill one of us.

 

     Another thing we liked to do was watch for people who parked on a hill. After they got inside we would wait a while then take the car out of gear and push it into someone's driveway. Then we would send someone inside to tell the owner that his car had rolled off. It was so funny watching the panic in the owner's eyes as he raced down the hill in the darkness. Sometimes they would be so caught up in the chase that they would run right past their car in the driveway.

 

     Then there was the old "Eggs in the hub cap prank." We would only do this prank on special occasions and on people we deemed deserving of such a trick. This was usually one of the more cranky or unfriendly neighbors that may have done something bad to us, like running us out of their apple trees or reporting us to our parents. This was a very simple prank where we just slipped a couple of  "rotten" eggs into one of their hub caps. They always looked under the hood for the terrible odor but never in the hubcaps.

 

     But by far the most fun we had on summer nights was our premier prank of all that I refer to as "The Snake Pull." With this prank we would use a piece of water hose with stiff wire inside to keep it bent into the shape of a snake. We would hide in a big bush or behind a bank and pull it across the road in front of cars with a fishing line. Cars would swerve to the point of almost overturning as drivers tried to run it over before it got across the road. Many times they would stop and back over it several times to make sure the snake was good and dead. We fooled a lot of people with this one. It was even more fun when we pulled it on pedestrians. One of the times I remember most was one evening about dark, when the Bowmans came down the street on their way to the creek to do some catfishing. I can still see Miss Bowman with that large straw hat she always wore, which made her look like the "Frito Bandito" was leading the troop which included her husband Joe, and sons Roy and Jesse. When that snake crossed in front of them they all went into a wild frenzy, beating that snake with rocks and brick bats and anything else they could get hold of. They all fished with bamboo poles at least 15 ft. long but when they got thru beating that water hose all they had left to fish with was splintered sticks barely 5 ft long. We always hung out up at Billy Robinson's store afterwards to here the people tell about it. They inveriably always held out their forearm to indicate how big it was. It would have had to have been 10 inches around to be the size they always described it. Harold Thompson went so far as to say he chased it all the way to the neighbors house but that it went straight up the wall and escaped.

 

     As usual things went bad on a couple of occasions. Raymond Brigman, Bob Fields and a few others where pulling the snake up on Hamer Road one night when this guy was so determined to kill this snake that he followed it off the road and stopped when he pinned it down with his front tire. He then decided to finish it off with a large stick he picked up. Well, he was pounding on it with such enthusiasm that we couldn't contain our laughter. When his girlfriend, who was also in the car, realized the sting, she started laughing harder than we were. Well, he flew hot, and came after us with blood in his eyes. We all took off like a group of flushed rabbits, running down the rows in John Hamer's corn field. I remember running for my life, knowing that guy wanted to get me but not near as bad as I wanted to get away.

 

     Salvation came by way of Bob Fields who was much heavier and slower than me. I remember the sound of Bob's footsteps behind me being intermittently interrupted by a dull thumping sound. This of course was the sound of the guy's foot making contact with Bob's extra wide rear end about every third step. I don't know how long we ran but we finally all gathered up together after a while. Everyone was accounted for but Bob, so we all went looking for him. After what I last heard of Bob I expected when we found him his rear end would be even with his shoulders. We finally found Bob laying in the field. He was bruised up but mostly ok. I told everyone to sit tight while I eased back down to retrieve the snake. I saw the jerk's car backed up in the shadows waiting for us to come for our snake. So we all just eased out the back end of the field and went home.

 

     As much fun as pulling the snake was, the scariest thing we ever did was hide a white sheet behind a tombstone at the edge of Northam Cemetery. We made it up with black shoe polish for eyes and a string tossed over a telephone wire. This prank was earmarked for a guy that traveled this path almost every evening returning from Lacy Bowes store. And sure enough here he came. We knew it was him because he always whistled when he walked by the cemetery. He was carrying a small bag of groceries just strolling along but when we jerked that string and that sheet whisked up from that tombstone, he took off like he was running like his life depended on it. Running with his head straight up and arms flapping like a wild goose. His mother told someone that when he finally got home, he had that grocery bag still clinched tight in his fist and all that was left in it was one sweet potato.

 

     I have often heard that we all venture over "fools hill" during our careless youthful days, but I think my gang lived on it. Never the less, I will never forget those wonderful days of foolish fun.