LIFE ISN'T ALWAYS FAIR

Some people would say it was love at first sight.  Others would be sure it was only infatuation.  I know what my opinion of it is.  You must decide for yourself.  All I know for sure is that the first time I saw her she was the prettiest woman I had ever seen.  No movie star could come close to her.  She was one of those women that stood out from the crowd no matter what she was wearing.  She never had a hair out of place.  She knew just what jewelry to wear with each outfit.  I have no idea what perfume she used but it was intoxicating.  Never to strong of a fragrance but kind of like the smell of a beautiful rose.  She was always smiling it seemed.  Did I mention she was an older woman?  I guess at one time or another all males have an older woman in their life.  She drove a baby blue Ford convertible.  I'll always remember riding in that car,  the wind blowing through our hair, the radio playing and us laughing just watching the world go by.  I wondered at the time if life could get any better.  She always knew just what I needed.  When I was in pain, she would gently put her arms around me and pull me close to her until the hurt was gone.  If I made a mistake or did something wrong,  she was never critical but always encouraged  me.  Because of her, I experienced things I never would have otherwise.  She introduced me to different foods than I had ever eaten before. She was able to show me a lifestyle I couldn't afford.  We spent everyday in seemed at the country club.  I learned so much because of her.  I did mention she was the older woman didn't I?  Did I mention she was married?  She also had two children. They were great kids and I loved them also.  I even like her husband.  As I think back, I believe our biggest obstacle was the age difference.  She was in her early 30s.  I was 4.  Her name was Vivian and she was the mother to my first best friend Jeff.

 I mentioned Jeff in an earlier post and said we experienced many "first together. We met at the age of 4.  Jeff's family was what I guess you would call upper middle income today but at the time they just seemed "very rich."  Jeff's father was a pharmacist and worked in a drug store that Jeff's grandfather owned.  In fact he owned at least two drug stores and a lot of real estate.  At one time he was Mayor of Decatur.  The family were members of Druid Hills Country Club and we would spend everyday of the summer there around the pool.  This is where Jeff and I both learned to swim. After swimming all morning we would sit at a table on the patio overlooking the pool and order anything we wanted to eat.  We never needed any money,  we would just sign our names.  I can remember going to the drug store at night with Jeff's Dad, Frank, to close the store.  This was in the days when there were soda fountains in all drug stores.  After the doors were locked and while Frank would go into the back to tally the books,  Jeff and I would go behind the soda fountain and make ice cream concoctions mixing everything behind that counter in them.  Have you ever noticed when your a kid, everything with ice cream in it taste good.  At that time of my life, I thought the coolest thing in the world would be to grow up to be the best soda jerk ever.   Ohhhhhhh,,,,the dreams of a kid.  At another time I wanted to grow up to be a garbage man because it looked like so much fun to hang on the back of the garbage truck and ride through the alleys where  we played.  Of course even at this young age I knew I could never be a garbage man because they were all black men and I was white.  I decided because I couldn't be a garbage man,  I was being discriminated against even though I had no idea the meaning of the word at that time.  So I would just say "Life isn't fair." 

As I've gotten older and think back on my life, I still think" life isn't  fair. " The difference between now and when I was young is the definition of fair has changed.
At a young age, fair was what I desired.  When I think of fair now I think of what I deserve.  When I think of my wife and kids,  my grandchildren,  my parents and really all of my family.  When I think of my health and the health of my family.  When I think that we've always had food to eat and shelter over our heads.  When I think of all the friends that have been in my life and all the wonderful times I've shared with these friends and family.  When I think of this great country I live in and the freedom I have. When I think of God's love for me and in fact all of us, of His mercy and providence and grace.  When I think of His patience and forgiveness.  When I think of His willingness to provide a way of salvation for me through His Son Jesus Christ.  I can say with a strong conviction,  "LIFE ISN'T FAIR."

I'VE RECIEVED MUCH BETTER THAN I DESERVE.

THANK YOU GOD.

GOD BLESS YOU ALL

THAT GREAT REUNION DAY

Both of my sisters,  Dianne and Terri,  tell me I'm their favorite brother.  It's nice to be the favorite.  Of course it was easy for them to make this decision being I'm their only brother.  If there are more than one of anything it's hard to pick a favorite, especially when it comes to people.  Take best friends for instance.  I've had many best friends in the past and even  with my years of experience it's hard to name a favorite best friend.  And when it comes to family,  it's even harder.  When we think of  all our family members each has that one thing or characteristic that makes them the favorite in a certain category.

Both my Mom and Dad have large families by today's standards.  In my mind, I don't have uncles and aunts by blood or marriage.  They are all aunts and uncles.  No in-laws here.  I believe that's because I was raised to think of family that way.  I'm grateful for that mindset.  As I said Mom and Dad came from large families and to my way of thinking I have a bunch,  and I mean a bunch of aunts and uncles.   Most of my aunts and all of my uncles have gone to be with the Lord.  As I stated in an earlier post,  I haven't lost them,  I know where they are.   I have never met my Uncle Harold, as he died before I was born, but have heard many stories about him so I'm excited about meeting him when I get to heaven.  Uncle Harold was married to a lady named Naomi.  At one time, on my 4th birthday, she was my favorite Aunt.   She showed up at our house with an electric train for me and immediately went to the top of my favorites list.  All of my Aunts and Uncles sit atop a favorite list in one category or another.

One of my Uncles sets atop the favorite list of the funest to be around.  Oh i know funest isn't a word but it sounds like a word he would use.  Have you ever been around someone that was always happy and therefore made you happy?  That was this uncle.  He had some hard times in his life.  His health wasn't the best.  The only reason I know these things is because my Mom told me.  He would have never let you know he was hurting or when things weren't going well.  When you were around him,  you were the most important person in the world,and he was going to make sure you had  a good time.   And stories,  I've never seen a man with so many stories.  If he had put his stories into a book, no doubt he would have been a rich man.  He was always pulling pranks on people or saying something that would, as we use to say "get your goat."  And he was always the same.  Made no difference if you were a preacher, president of the bank or the town drunk.  He treated everyone the same.  One time I was working with him at his store.  You never worked for him, you always worked with him.  We were standing around talking and listening to his tall tales when a man walked up to the counter to buy a loaf of bread.  After the man had paid for the bread,  we went back to talking when the man that had bought the bread interrupted and asked for a paper bag to put his bread in.  My uncle proceeded to tell the man the bread was already in a bag.  It was in a plastic bag he explained,  came from the bakery that way, and continued to tell the man how superior the plastic bag was to the paper bags he had.  The man told my uncle he just wanted a paper bag to put the bread in,  he had paid for the bread and now he wanted a paper bag to carry it.  My uncle said " Well,  if that's what you really want"  and then proceeded to undo the twist tie and dump the loaf of bread in the paper bag, take the plastic bag and put it under the counter, and picked up the story he had been telling  without missing a beat.  I almost fell off my chair.

Another time my Mom and Dad and this Uncle and Aunt decided to take a vacation together.  Mom said as they were riding down the rode the most awful odor she had ever smelled filled the car.  When she could stand the odor no longer she turned to my Uncle as asked him  "Did you just pass gas?"  to which he replied, "Of course I did, surely you don't think I always smell like this do you?"  Of course his language was a bit more colorful.

As I started writing this and the memories of times spent with and stories told by this man flooded my mind,  I really believe I could write a book of nothing but him.  He wasn't only funny.  He wasn't only a prankster.  There was a very sensitive side to this man also.  There was the side that loved his wife so much.  The side that showed the pride and love of and for his children.  This man was very special to so many people.

I miss my Uncle C. W.

WERE YOU AT WOODSTOCK?

Childhood memories......Are ours the way we were, or the way we weren't?  In an earlier post I asked how far back could you remember?  Did you know scientists at Georgetown University have determined that moths can remember when the were caterpillars?  I promise I read this, and I promise the article said it was true.  This article does my inferiority complex no good at all, as I can't remember where i put the remote,  much less life as a fetus.

  The memories I do have as a very young child of course are of very important things like pegged pants with zippers on the inside of my Levi Jeans so I could get them over my foot. Or of white dress shirts with the collar turned up and the tails so long they reached my knees.    And how about those penny loafers,  you talk about cool.   My memories turn to baseball and football games when I think of my older youth.  Of dances and the Varsity or Yellow Jacket.  Oh ...I can go on and on and  if I go into detail most of what I tell you will be accurate  although there possible would be a couple of misrepresentations included.  During 1969 there was a music festival called Woodstock.  You probably remember hearing of it.  No I wasn't there but have talked to many that say they were.  From watching the documentary of Woodstock and reading the accounts of it,  and if my memory serves me right,  there were 500,000 people there.  What I have determined from my research is, out of the half million people in attendance,  there is no way more than a 150 could have been sober or straight enough to have any memory of these 3 days what so ever.   Same with  Hank Aaron's 715th home run.  How in the world did they get 300,000 people into old Atlanta / Fulton County Stadium?  

My conclusion isn't that we are bad people or that we are flat out telling lies.  My conclusion is that maybe our memories aren't very good.  But I also believe thinking back must be good for us.  It exercises our brain.  It must keep us healthier.  And one other thing.  These stories of yesteryear we tell and hear brings us pleasure.  I know when Peggy tells of going to pick peaches with her daddy,  of going to the farmers market to sell them and of sleeping in the truck,  if you look at the sparkle in her eyes each and every time she tells this story, there is no doubt of the great pleasure she is experiencing  by not only telling it but also remembering it.

As all this came to mind today, it again made me wonder of my grand kids and their memories.  What part of their memories will be affected by computers?  In 50 years when they want to remember an experience they had will they turn to the memory bank
of their brain or go to GOOGLE?  Have you noticed how much we put on computers today?  Things like pictures and even  blogs such as mine.  Is this good or bad?  This is another one of those questions I have no answer for.  Maybe by putting it all on computers we're saving brain cells to remember other things like cell phone numbers or a shortcut in the latest video game we've purchased.

You know,  maybe a moth has a better memory than I do.  I'm man enough to admit that.  But I believe if I had watched ancestor after ancestor fly into an open flame and die,  I would have learned not to fly to close to the fire.  Now, let's go make some memories.

HAVE A BLESSED DAY!!!!!!

TO BLESSED TO BE STRESSED

I have a confession to make.  I hope you won't think less of me but I feel I must let you know.  My confession is I gamble.  I mean I  gamble for big money and only for big money.  No,  my family has never missed a meal because of my gambling and they have always had clothes on their backs.  What is my game of choice you ask?  Ohhhh,  I only play one game and only maybe once a month.  I play the lottery.  You may ask  "Do I play the scratch offs?"   Nope,  never have.   Oh,  "You must play the fantasy 5" you say?  No I answer....I only play the Mega Millions or the Big Game.  And I only play these games when the prize nears 100 million  dollars.  Who needs a paltry 15 or 20 million dollars.  Not me!!!  Give me the  excitement of the $Big Bucks.  OK....  You've heard my confession.  Now you?  They say confession is good for the soul.  Have you ever played?  What do you call it if you play?  I just say I'm making my contribution to higher education. So once every 4 or 5 weeks I go to the corner store, reach deep down in my pocket, pull out my 1 or 2 dollar bills and tell the clerk to give me 1 or 2 quick picks.  Now you know.....
And,  as Paul Harvey use to say:  And now, the rest of the story.

The rest of the story is, I also have fantasies about winning.  And Oh no.... no no.  I don't feel guilty about these fantasies.  I only have them when Peggy is with me.  In fact she has them also and we share these fantasies aloud with each other.  They are always about the same things.  These fantasies are always about what we would do with the money.  And the strange thing is we almost always agree on how to spend it.  "New house you ask?"  Actually two houses.  One on the beach and one in the mountains.  And they would have to be very large houses.  How big must these houses be you ask?  Big enough to sleep 40 or 50 people.  The houses would have to be large enough for ALL of the family.  You see, this hasn't always been a fantasy.  We've really experienced family vacations with our 35 or so family members.  We've really felt the joy of this time together,  seen first hand how it has brought us closer to one another and to God.  And a trust would have to be set-up to own these houses so our grand children and nieces and nephews could share these experiences with their grand children and nieces and nephews when we've gone on.  And of course education.  All the children of the family would be sure to have college paid for.  Oh,  I'm sure there would be a car or two purchased, and surely a few houses paid for.  And then there are a few people outside the family that would receive enough money to help them reach goals they have or just make life easier for them.  Now you!!!
A few years ago the big thing you saw everywhere you turned was  "WWJD". What would Jesus do?   I still see it sometimes but not like I use to.  But today the Question is "WWYD".  Or, what would YOU do?

If you noticed above,  mostly I would spend this money on my family and myself.  Oh sure,  there are some things of greater purpose I would give to.  But as I recall these fantasies,  It's always me and my loved ones that get the first and largest portion.  If you have read my Blog very much,  you have probably noticed that young people hold a special place in my heart.  I  just love their excitement about life,  their hunger for knowledge and most of all their love for each other.  And following is the reason I feel this way I think.  As I was thinking about my thoughts today,  the game show
"A MINUTE TO WIN IT"  came to mind.  Not sure if you've seen it or not but it's a fun show.  I was watching the other night and there were these two young ladies playing together as a team.  They were 24 years old I believe and not just pretty girls,  they were beautiful.  And as I watched they got more beautiful.  Not more beautiful to my eyes but more beautiful to my heart.  They won  $250,000 and as in all game shows they were asked from the beginning what they were going to do with their winnings.  I would have thought new cars or college..Maybe down payments on new houses or help their parents.  NO NO AND NO....None of these things.  They were using  their winnings to start orphanages in a far away land.  As the show progressed some of these children were shown in orphanages that were already there.  These girls played with a confidence.   They weren't nervous. They adopted a theme they got from one of their fathers.  They were "TO BLESSED TO BE STRESSED".   I could write more about these girls but their giving just amazed me.  They weren't giving the first 10%.  They weren't giving what they had left over.  They were giving it all,  they were giving  everything. 

Brought to mind a man that also gave it all over 2000 years ago.  I hope you know Him.  If not let me know and I'll tell you the TRUE story of this man.

But the question today isn't :  WWJD?  because He already has.  The question is:

WWYD? 

God  Bless

I LIKE ME!!!!!!!

First thing every morning I make a pot of coffee, get me a cup and sit down at the computer and read the newspaper.  I think I got this habit of reading the newspaper from Dad.  Seemed he always had a newspaper in his hands or beside his chair.  I always considered him a very smart man and once asked him if the reason he knew so much was because he read the paper each day?  He answered and said what  made him smart was he knew not to believe anything he heard or read and only half of what he saw.  Of course, what he was trying to teach me was to use the brain given to me by the good Lord above, to have a little "common sense".  Dad was always informed on current events, while my first readings were of Jesse Outlar and Furman Bisher on the sports pages.

 I've found sometimes common sense is a hard thing to use.  Oh sure,  it seems to get easier as you get older but sometimes I still have to STOP and THINK.  And sometimes even when I STOP and THINK,  I still make the wrong decision.  I sometimes get upset or frustrated with my kids and grandchildren about the things they do.  I try to keep my mouth shut and let them learn from their  mistakes, but all the while am saying to myself, "What in the world are you thinking?"  And then I think back to when I was young and remember some of the things I did and I know my  Dad was thinking "what is going on in that head of yours?" 

I wrote a few days ago about my Mom saying "It's hard to get old,  there aren't any old sissies."  Well I believe this statement true,  but it brings to mind another Question.  Is it harder to get old or be young?   Being young is hard too.  And if you really think about it,  it may be harder than getting old.  I'm 63,  just had a birthday  last week, and listen to this.....believe it or not,,,,, I know who I am.  I know who I am and I'm happy with that person.  I may not think like you do on all the issues of today,  I may not act like you all the time,  I may not enjoy the same things as you but that's OK.  I'm happy with me.  I'm not afraid to express my opinions just because you may disagree with me.  You may not like my handlebar mustache,  but it makes no difference to me....I like it and I'm gonna keep it.  I don't feel the need to fit-in with every other 63 year old.
I know there are things I can do and have finally realized there are things I can't do. One of the hardest lessons for me to learn, and it's still hard to admit today is that the world doesn't revolve around Wesley.   Makes me think of my niece when she saw the Police Lady directing traffic at her school,  telling this car to go and this one to stop, and then to go.  All of a sudden little Mae looked up at Terri, her mom at asked  "Who does she think she is?   Does she think she runs the whole world?"  I had to learn I didn't run the whole world.

One of the things I learned was I couldn't live my children or grand children's lives.  As much as I would like to...IT'S IMPOSSIBLE.   There's an old African Proverb that says "It take a village to raise a child".  I know...there are a lot of people and maybe even Hillary herself that wanted us to think this was a Hillary Proverb but it isn't.  But over a lifetime I've learned it's true.  I may not be able to live the life's of my children or grandchildren or nieces or nephews,  but....but....I can help raise them...I can be an influence, because it does take a village   WOW I say......"what an opportunity"......but then I  STOP and THINK........What a responsibility. 

I love family.  I love just being around them.  I love being around them as a group like parties and weekend retreats and vacations and I love being around them individually.  But I must remember,  just as you must remember,  these children weren't just put here only for my enjoyment.  They were put here for a purpose,  for a reason and I need to help them be prepared  when they find that reason.

Yes,  I'm happy with me.  I honestly like me, although I'm not perfect.  And I realize I like me in part because of the village that raised me.  I think they did a pretty darn good job even if I do say so myself.

God,  Please help me to STOP and THINK  more often as my grandchildren grow.......Amen

FOOD FOR THOUGHT!

Do the names Rosalyn Walton and Martha Ann Holmes ring a bell with you?  I had forgotten these names until I decided what to write about today.  I had been   contemplating this post for awhile, but for some reason had not gotten around to it.  Have you ever noticed how when we go into our memory bank that time has a way of masking the bad parts of experiences while enhancing the good parts?  I know I seem to be rattling on and on in no direction but I hope you will stay with me here.   I promise I have something to say.  I love writing this blog as I have told you before but up until today everything has all come from me with no guidance.  I saw no need for guidance as I was sharing my thoughts and experiences and was getting comments from all of you that really made me feel good because I felt I was making you feel good.  Then I decided to write this post and thought to myself,  this happened a long time ago so let me do a little research to make sure I get it right.  After the research I had doubts if I should write about this time in my life or not.  In fact I decided not to as I thought it may just bring up bad memories to some.   I decided it wouldn't make you feel good.

So instead of writing I decided to go to a blog I often read and just read and think.  It's the blog of a lady I've mentioned before named Charlotte Travis, and her Blog is
charottetravis.wordpress.com. She teaches a Bible Study my wife goes to on Tuesdays.  I'm going to post a paragraph from her blog today,  I hope she doesn't mind, that encouraged me to go on and write this.  Thanks  Charlotte.  I  just want you to know Gods words that are given to and shared by you inspire and give courage to others.  And the paragraph:

Today, let’s pray for God to prepare our hearts for what He has to share with us the next few days.  When you think about it, every move we make is a move of obedience.  We are either captured by the love of God and obeying Him; or bound by our flesh and obeying it (which bottom line means we are bound by and obeying Satan through sin for goodness’ sake!). Talk about food for thought!

AND SO I PRAYED FOR GUIDANCE

The day was August 30,  1961.  It was the first time I ever laid eyes on Rosalyn Walton and Martha Ann  Holmes.  The day started just like any other day  It was warm as I remember.  The sun was shining.  There was an excitement in the air.  It was the first day of school.  But this day was different.  I had never experienced anything like this day before because on this day for the first time in my life I would be going to school with blacks.  I remember being torn because as I've written in earlier post one of my best friends, Leon,  was black.  I had always wondered why Leon couldn't go to school with me.  I would have liked it if Leon had been there.  But I didn't know these girls and most of my other friends seemed not to like them.  Most of my friends at school didn't know Leon so did this mean they wouldn't like him either?  And on this day there were newsmen and cameras everywhere.  There were policemen and police dogs there too.  I remember my homeroom class was located on the back of the school and if you looked out the window you could see fire engines parked there.  I was young.  I didn't really understand what was going on.  I had heard the adults talk about this but maybe because of Leon, I really didn't understand.  Everything seemed to go smooth that first day, and to me it seemed pretty calm all year.  I never had a class with Rosalyn or Martha Ann so I never saw a lot of what they went through.  I do remember seeing them at lunch sitting together at a table by themselves and wondering if they were glad to be there.  I knew they had left all their friends to come to Murphy High School.  Didn't they miss them?  Seemed the only people they had to talk with was each other.  It really didn't seem like much fun to me.

I later learned, and this is the part my memory had blocked, that Rosalyn and Martha Ann had coins, chalk, and rocks thrown at them in class.  They had threatening notes put in their lockers and vulgar name written on their lockers.  They were called names as they walked down the halls.  They had to be escorted to and from school each day and weren't allowed to go to school dances or football games.  They were totally shunned not only by the other kids but by most of the teachers.  I could go on but I think you get the idea.   My niece Emmy in her first or second year of school was having a birthday party.  She and her mom were making a list of who to invite.  Emmy asked her mom if they could invite a certain little girl and her mom asked why?  Emmy responded, "Well mom,  she's  black" to which her mom said "Emmy, she's just a little black girl.
 Emmy said,  "Yeah Mom,  she's little but her mom is a big ol' black woman".
I've laughed at this story over the years, not stopping to think that Rosalyn and Martha Ann were just two little black girls wanting a better life and to be included.

As I was researching, I was also reminded of the blockbusting by the real estate agents.  Reminded of the fear they would put into the minds of people for profit.  Not only white agents but black agents as well.  I could write much about this but I hate,  and I mean really hate the ugliness of it all.  My brother-in- law once told me the story, and I can only assume it true because it sounds like something he would do about a real estate agent knocking on his door.  When Julian answered the door he said the agent introduced himself  and wanted to know if  he was aware that the house across the street had been sold to a black family?  Julian told him" it was the first he had been told about it but he sure was glad as he was sick and tired of all the white trash around there."

Martin Luther King is one of my heroes.  Did he do everything right?  Of course not.  He was a man,  not God.  He's my hero because he had a dream!  He had a dream that one day little black kids and little white kids.  Little red kids and little yellow kids would be able to join hands and play together just as Leon and I had done.  He had a dream that one day people would be judged not by the color of their skin but by the character and content of their heart.  I share that dream. And I pray God will make it so.


May God bless and have mercy on us all!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

DO YOU REMEMBER WHEN?

A couple of weeks ago my cousin, Fran (we call her Frannie) Mitchell posted on her Facebook page that her childhood home had been bulldozed in the name of progress.  From her posting I could tell it almost broke her heart.  Although it wasn't my family home,  I also have many fond memories of that house.  In fact Peggy and I rented the little house next door that I believe Frannie's Mom and Dad (Frank and LaRue) took up  what we use to call house keeping in.  I can remember walking in the back yard with Frank and looking at his garden and then going to the chicken pen to check on his chickens.  And many an afternoon we would set on the back porch with LaRue listening to her tell stories about her and mom and the other sister's and  brother's childhood.  I can still hear her infectious laugh halfway through a story.  But I believe my most vivid memory of that house is Frank and his two grandsons down at that creek just learning about nature, having fun outdoors and enjoying each others company.  Frank and LaRue really loved those grandsons.

As I was thinking about this, the things that came to mind were how far back can you remember?  How old were you? and the second thing that came to mind was....What really is progress?

I know I talk about Kirkwood a lot but my very first memories were of a home in Mableton.  A home on what  I call Bankhead highway,  now known as Veterans Memorial Highway and Gordon Road now known as Mableton Parkway.  Does progress always include renaming all the roads?  Maybe it's not a sign of getting old when you can't remember....maybe I can remember,  they just keep changing the name of everything on me.  Could this be a conspiracy?  Makes you wonder doesn't it?  Oh well, back to my earliest memories. Our house was located where Ragan Plaza is today.  Of course Mableton was a much much much different place then.  Gordon road didn't cross Bankhead Hwy.  It dead ended into Bankhead Hwy.  And they hadn't got around to paving Gordon Road,  so it was still a dirt road.  The Fowlers lived on one side of us and the Gazaways on the other.  Believe it are not the Fowler's house is still tucked back in there.  Only thing I can figure is that since you can't see it from the highway, they forgot to tear it down.  You know sometimes the government looks over things because they're very busy spending our money and if you ever go shopping you know spending money can be very time consuming.  Gosh my mind is wondering today!!!! Now.... Back to the story  Back then there really wasn't much of a business district in Mableton.  You had the old Barnes Store and across the railroad tracks you had that little row of businesses. All I remember being there was I think a little grocery store,  the Post Office, and a barber shop.  If you went up to the corner at Floyd Road, (Or have they changed the name of that road too) and turned left you would see my grandfather's blacksmith shop and Ed Cardell's grist mill.  If you turned back to the right at Floyd Road you would cross the tracks over that old wooden bridge and on your left would be a gas station.  Next door to the gas station was Jake Lee's Auto Repair Shop.  Right in front of our house was another gas station,  I can't remember the man's name that owned it but Im sure my sister will, and across Bankhead was another gas station owned by Bob Thompson.  And then you had on the corner of Bankhead Highway and Gordon Road a restaurant called the Candlestick Restaurant.  Cobb County was what was called a  dry county back then but later I was told you could buy something to drink at the Candlestick.  I remember people calling this restaurant a "honky tonk".  I guess that's why at the young age of 4,  I can still remember people eating dinner at this fine restaurant up until the wee hours of the morning.  And that was Mableton in the late 40s and early 50s..  Oh there may have been another store or two but no Mableton Shopping Center,  no Hawthorn Plaza...That was pretty much it..... and then....and then.....and then along came progress.  Houses were built,  stores were built,  more people came and with them came more cars.  I remember an airplane landing on Gordon road and turning into Bob Thompson's Gas Station and they didn't have to block traffic because there wasn't any traffic.  I told my dad this story for years and he would always say I dreamed it.  Then one day we ran into Bob and I asked him and he said it sure did happened and told us who owned the plane.  He said he painted the plane for the man and a few days later it took back off on Gordon Road and again they didn't have to block traffic.  Boy has the traffic changed in Mableton.  And now the stores go from can to can't.  My son laughs at me when I call Mableton the "Picture Frame Capital of The World".  Do they sell or import picture frames to any other part of the country?  I moved away from Mableton in 1952 and we returned in about 1963.  In those 11 years there were many changes made,  lots of growth and lots of this so called progress but I still liked living there.  Since then it has been just more and more and more progress.  How much progress and how many picture frame stores can one community take?

I guess we all must decide in our own minds if progress is good or bad,  and I'm sure there are very good argument on both sides,.... but as for me,  I think I'll just go ride down a dirt road somewhere, and look at some cows.

That's where I will progress today.