After Watching A Show

about the happenings that led to the book and the movie called The Exorcist, I have decided to repeat I was reminded of a local tale from years ago.  I will not take sides nor state my beliefs only what happened as I know it.

A family lived on the north side of town that consisted of Grandma, Uncle, Father and Daughter.  A family that was a little different from the norm of wife, husband and 1,5 children but a family nonetheless.

The family had lived and worked in this area for years. They was not in the uppity social circles but Daughter attended school, Grandmother was the mother figure and the men worked as they could to support their family.

When Daughter was a young teen, trouble began.  I did not see it but know of people who did. Things moved with out reason, the bed daughter slept in bounced and levitated,  The family was terrified and uncomfortable with the attention this brought.  A television crew came and investigated.  It was quite the media event.  A reclusive family was now in the lime light and they were not happy.

Whether the family left by choice or the trouble ran them off will never be known.  They moved. Within a month of their leaving the house burned to the ground. Arson was the reason.

Today nothing stands where the house once stood except an empty lot with spring flowers and weeds.

Undercover and Bootlegging

Our county is a dry county.   People have to drive to neighboring counties to get their "hooch" legally.

When my husband was a young drinking man a bootlegger lived across the river from the town where he lived.  The only way across the river was a ferry. It operated if the water was not too high or too low and only from 6 AM to 6 PM.

When the river was low and the ferry closed Hubby would go across the river on an inner tube to get his beer for the weekend.  On the return trip he would sit in the tube with the beer on his lap and hand paddle back to his car.

This was an illegal operation but a profitable one for the bootlegger.  They bought at regular price and sold at much higher prices, supply and demand at its best.

Years later with Hubby's river runs behind him we were asked to help the police with a "sting".  It was another bootlegger who was selling more than purchased alcohol but a little home made too. Normally bootleggers are left to their own devices if they lay low and don't cause too much trouble. Hey, everyone has to make a living. I guess they may have sold to some minors because the police were determined to arrest them. 

With my husband's previous reputation, it was no problem.  I, on the other hand, was not a drinker. People who knew me also knew that.  Hubby told me what we were doing that night...what?   I don't drink.  He opened a beer can, poured it on me and said, Act drunk. Now you smell like one.  I'll do the talking.

This was an adventure for me.  Never did anything like this.  I had only read about things like this in a book!  I had a few alcoholics scattered through my family tree so I knew how they acted.

We pulled into the yard in the middle of no where. Dogs barking, we opened the car doors.  I stumbled.  I walked very precisely as if trying to prove to the world I was sober...that's what my uncles did.  Hubby placed his arm around me to support his drunken woman.  

The door opened.  The dogs got closer and barked louder.  The man yelled, "Shad up!" and the dogs disappeared.  By this time my wobbly legs were not so much of an act.  This man was scary!

Hubby shook the man's hand with one arm still holding me steady.  The bootlegger got a whiff of me and knew what we were after.  Hubby asked the man for product, he gave him the money from the police department.  No recording needed.  We had the booze, they had the police money and we were witnesses.

Hubby carried what we purchased as I wobbled and mumbled under my breath...we made it!!!  No one was shot.  Why in the hell did I ever agree to something this dangerous?  I guess it was the thrill, the risk, and the fun.

The bootlegger was "drummed" out of business.  They never knew we were the hangman's noose.

I guess all's well that ends well.   

Flash 55 Plus A Stranger

A stranger stopped to help change my flat tire. I was jumping up and down on the four way tire iron without success. He made short work of it and refused money I pressed into his palm.  He said, “When you see my wife or daughter needing help, stop and help them. That's payment enough.”

For Imaginary Garden With Real Toads 

The Child We Didn't Adopt

Heather came, a pre-teen which the Social Services had ingrained all the rights and rules of a foster child. We welcomed her as if she were not damaged and slowly began the process of repair.

Heather could handle school or home, not both.

She was loving, volatile, hidden and protected by her wall that began construction at the age of three.  Oh, but we tried   Periodically Heather went to Group Camps that improved nothing and only taught her more ways to manipulate.

Despite all the ups and downs she brought with her suitcase we loved her.  We wanted her as our third daughter.

Heather loved animals.  She showed miniature horses. When she returned from "camp" Heather also had a horse to ride.

Heather loved all the people here.  Dad with Alzheimer's seemed to connect with her most.  He would give Heather great advice at dinner each night while she smiled that sweet deceptive smile.

She chose the colors of her room.  We built shelves together.  We poured over catalogs to order pink beaded curtains, lime green bed clothes and an orange rug.  Her room.  Her choice.

Heather took it from our hands when she escalated her violence. Throwing the rocker at me was just one of many incidents.

It was tough.  Heather made a bigger wall because she loved us too in her own way.  Yet it frightened her to care for someone.  All her life the people she loved hurt her, abandoned her and in the end that is what we did.

We loved her.  We still do but we could not help her.

The frame is dusty but her picture remains.  Still in the spare room.   Heather, I'm sorry we failed you.

That is my regret.

For Two Shoes Tuesday

Saturday Centus 166

Watching the lightning grateful for the cool and enjoying the scent of fresh rain we spoke of past weather and the effects.

A huge multi-limbed wild animal of lightning ran across the sky followed immediately with deafening thunder. We knew the sound of lightning striking but we didn't know what it had hit.

Come morning we traveled the hilltop to check. Not only had the lightning struck and split a huge oak tree, it has also killed eight cattle who had rested under it.

The herd bull, in death, leaned against the tree as if scratching an itch in life.

Join Saturday Centus and Jenny for some entertainment and fun.

The Bear

Stitchin ByThe Lake wrote an interesting bear story earlier in the week.  She was lucky since it was not a face to face encounter.

That bear story reminded me of one from many years ago.

A couple lived in a house visible from the highway.  Not really isolated but still considered rural.  It was apple season and they had many fruit trees.  Every day that would peel and core their apples in preparation to preserve them for winter food.  Each day they would take their peels and cores outside to the back of their property so the wild animals could feast on the remains of the process.

The couple noticed the peels and cores would disappear over night and ASSUMED it was rabbits and deer enjoying their own personal Farmer's Market.

Since the couple had many different kinds of apples the harvest was spread over about a month.  The apples at last were through.  It had been a bumper crop.  Only a  few remained in the house for them to snack on and the rest had been processed.

One night very soon after the apple harvest, there was a knocking on their back porch.  Since it was unusual for someone to come to the back door they looked out.  There stood a big black bear (black bears are not REALLY big but they are when they're knocking on your door)  The family banged some pans together and ran him away.

The next night same time, more knocking.  It was the bear again.  He was angry there were no apple treats for him and he could smell the few remaining in the house.

The third night the bear was beating on the whole back wall of the porch shaking the house as if he thought apples would fall out. 

Needless to say these people and the bear did not develop a friendship.  They called Arkansas Game and Fish who used a huge cage trap to catch the bear for relocation. 

The bait they used...apples, of course!!!