I appreciate the special section my high school classmate Joel Bailey (RHS ' 66) set

aside for me in his website rockinghamremembered.com.  Joel is very clever and

crafty. He almost makes me feel like I'm back in Miss Osborne's tenth grade English

class where we probably wrote at least two themes  per week not to mention several

research papers.  Thank goodness he is not circling my errors and making me rewrite

unlike Miss Osborne.  Am I obligated to write since I now have this special section? 

Will I run out of memories?  I have three kids and work a sixty hour work week selling

cars not to mention a honey-do list.   When will I have time to write?  To paraphrase

Willie Shakespeare, "to write or not to write? - that is the question."

 

   Joel's forward about me contained one error.  I was educated at Roberdel Grammar

School and feel fortunate to have such a strong educational foundation but I actually

grew up in McDonald Community.  I can still remember my ninth grade homeroom

teacher Mrs. Claudette Brownley questioning me on the standard informational

forms filled out by all high school students on day one of the new school year, "Bobby,

just where is McDonald Community?  Could you be more specific?"

 

   "Yes m'am.  Go out of town toward Cognac.  Once you pass Foxport, take the first

hardtop to the left toward the fish hatchery.   About one mile down the road, turn left

at the church.  My house is the first house on the left.  Don't worry about Zeke. 

Brownie bites even when Brownie is in the house."

 

   "Bobby, I do not plan to visit.  The school needs to know where you live," Mrs.

Brownley patiently explained.  "I need road names and/or numbers.  Where is

Cognac?  What is a fox port?  Does the road to the church have a name?  Does the

church have a name?  Who is Zeke?  Please be specific!  I'll also need your phone

number young man.  I'll be calling your mother later.  I don't appreciate you trying to

nickname me.  My name is Mrs. Brownley not Brownie!  I might keep a student after

school or give him extra homework as punishment but I'd never bite anyone.  Now

answer me or I'll send you home with a note to your parents!"

 

   "Please Mrs. Brownley don't call my mama and please, please don't send a note

home to my parents.  Daddy will kill me; I haven't had a spanking since last Thursday.

 I've always respected my teachers.  Y'all rank right up there with the preacher at our

church.  Cognac is a township before you reach Hoffman.  You have to go up Highway

1 north (in the ninth grade I had only been on three highways in my whole life with

numbers that I could remember - #1, #74, and #220).  Foxport is where the race track

is (the old 3/8 mile dirt track - Rockingham Speedway, the one mile North Carolina

Motor Speedway was not in existence in 1961).  I go there every Saturday night with

my daddy and two little brothers.  Wild Bill Bostick is my favorite driver.  I pull for

Walson Gardner, too 'cause he's from Roberdel.  I don't like Bobby Webb.  He's a

good driver but he's from Cordova.  You'll also see the Evergreen Motel at Foxport.

You can't miss it; it's painted green.  Hartis Haigler owns it.  Hartis married Daddy's

cousin Annie.  All the neighborhood kids spend their weekends playing with Hartis

and Annie's two younger sons, Fulton (RHS ' 64) and Sam (RHS ' 69).  Their big

brother Doyle (RHS ' 57) runs the Evergreen.  Their big sister Joanne (RHS ' 60) was

an Eight O ' Clocker.  They all go to my church."

 

   "Very well, Bobby, I get the picture.  Now stick with the subject.  I turn off Highway

1 onto what road?"

 

   "McDonald Church Road."

 

   "One mile later, turn left at what church?"

 

   "McDonald Baptist Church," I proudly answered.  "The church was started a long

time ago by seven McDonalds.  They were my kinfolk.  The preacher lives right across

the road."

 

   "Ok Bobby, let's cut it short; we are running out of time.  What is the name of the

road by the church?"

 

   "Oh, that road is the Scott McDonald Road.  Scott McDonald is my grandpa.  He

lives at the end of the road in the last house on the right with Uncle Ralph (Richmond

Senior ' 7?), Uncle David (Richmond Senior ' 7?), and Grandma Elton.  Grandpa is 79

years old, Uncle Ralph is 4, Uncle Dave is 7 but Grandma is old, too.  I think she is

fifty something."

 

   "Quiet, Bobby.  Let's review.  You live in McDonald Community in the first house

on the left on Scott McDonald Road just after you pass McDonald Baptist Church on

McDonald Church Road which is off of Highway 1 north past Foxport.  Right?" Mrs.

Brownley impatiently asked.  She did not seem too happy.

 

   "Yes m'am (Mama taught me to show respect by using my manners around

grown-ups). Mrs. Brownley, if you get confused just stop and ask anyone.  I'm related

to everyone on the road except the preacher.  Mama says you'll never find a

McDonald who could be a preacher."

 

   "Bobby, please, if I need any more information I'll ask."

 

   "Mrs. Brownley?"

 

   "Yes, Bobby."

 

   "I haven't answered all of your questions.  Zeke is my bulldog.  He'll bite only if

you've got four legs.  I wasn't making fun of your name.  Mama says it's not nice to

make fun of someone's name.  Brownie is my Chihuahua.  Daddy says she'll bite

anyone, anything, any place, anywhere, anytime so please let me know when you're

coming to visit.  You don't need to worry if she bites you.  Brownie got her rabies shot

from Tip Sanford last week. Tip is a veterinarian from Roberdel who doesn't have a

license but Daddy says he may be better than Dr. Gandy (Ralph).  Daddy likes him

'cause he's a lot cheaper."  Suddenly the bell rang for first period.

 

   "Class, be here on time tomorrow.  We've got plenty to do because we ran out of

time.  Bobby, you hurry to first period.  I don't have time to write your parents."

 

   "Yes m'am."  Did I dodge a bullet or what? Chances of getting through day four

without getting a spanking just greatly increased.  I surely hope Mrs. Brownley calls

before she visits.

 

   I can forgive Joel for thinking I grew up in Roberdel where I layed my educational

foundation with those famous three Rs and made life-long friends.  However, I grew

up in McDonald Community and am extremely proud to say so the least.  Therefore,

my ancestral rights and responsibilities will not allow me to sit idly by and allow such

a mistruth about my home turf to orbit in cyberspace.  I worked in the same fields, I

fished in the same lake, I hunted in the same forest, I climbed trees in the same

woods, and I walked and played on the same grounds as Great-Great-Grandpa Daniel

McDonald did as a kid in the 1770s.  My roots are deeply embedded in the soils of

McDonald Community.  When I visit Joel's website rockinghamremembered.com, I

see myself playing with my brothers Ken (RHS ' 68) and Gary (RHS ' 71) just as Joel

relays his memories of playing with his brothers Keith, Gary, and Randy on

rockinghamremembered.com.  When I visit rockinghamremembered.com, I am back

up in the stands on Saturday night at the old Rockingham Speedway just like Joe

Pruitt (RHS '66).  Yes, Paul Warnock, I have shot marbles with the older guys for

keeps and also lost all of my marbles as you confessed on

rockinghamremembered.com.  While looking at the picture of the old RHS hallway

on rockinghamremembered.com, I can hear the opening and closing of lockers as

Mrs. Brownley's warning about being tardy for first period bounces around in my

head like it was yesterday.  However, no need to worry about being late for class; it is

the weekend and I am in my ' 64 valiant headed to Tom & Sarah's.  I am ordering a

superburger and a zip.  I know what I want; I have just read the menu on

rockinghamremembered.com.                                     

 

   Just like the porch light in Five Points recalled so many memories  for Lane Hudson

in his vivid writings of yesteryear so does rockinghamremembered.com kindle those

fading memories of mine into a burning bonfire of another day and time.  Life is dull

without a good joke. Everyone can tell you what is wrong with our government

whether it is local, state, national, or international.  Everyone has a sermon prepared

on religion; personally, I feel life without God is meaningless.  One can find funny

jokes on rockinghamremembered.com.  Why one can even debate religion and

politics with anyone in the world on rockinghamremembered.com (if you do not

think Joel's site is worldwide, just view his guestbook).  Everyone's opinions and

sense of humor are very entertaining. To post on one of Joel's message boards is

simple and cheap(free)!   Yet, I am sure Joel's intent of rockinghamremembered.com

is defined in the website name alone.  Yes, rockinghamremembered.com is like a

search light; it's beam cuts through the dark unknown sky.  Just like the home based

light it guides us into the dark unknown we call the future.  A tip of the hat goes to

Joel for providing this resource.

 

   Still the question I ponder is not answered.  "To write or not to write" is the

challenge ahead of me.  As I sit on the tailgate of my FORD pick-up truck here in

Hope Mills and compose my thoughts the old fashion way (pen and paper), I just do

not know that I will have time to relay all the nostalgia spinning in my head about

growing up in the sandy soils of Richmond County.  Even if I have time to transpose

my thoughts to paper, when will I have time to one-finger type them on my Gateway

computer?  Yet, that search light called rockinghamremembered.com cutting through

cyberspace still shines and beckons me.  Mr. Shakespeare, you may still question me. 

If you and my high school classmate Joel can be patient, I must answer - "TO

WRITE"!!!  Yes, I must write and share my memories - those precious childhood

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

South in the 50's and the 60's.