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| 1931 Model A Ford coupe. |
As I have said many times in my writings, I think a boy who didn’t grow up in the country during the hard times of the Depression missed a lot.
I would not like to see our country suffer from the hardships of this time in our history again, but all in all, there were also many good times enjoyed during these hectic days on a farm in the country.
I see the youth of today cruising around in their fine automobiles with plenty of gasoline to burn and money to spend, and I remember the times when no young person in the community had any form of transportation other than a farm horse or a mule to ride.
The “get together” or community gathering for the young folks always took place on Saturday or Sunday afternoons. Horses and mules would be saddled up, and all met at the gathering place, and the afternoon fun time would start from there.
In this community where I grew up, there was a man everyone called “Joe Buck.” He was around 50 or so years of age, but he thought and tried to act as if he was about 15 or 16. He was a blacksmith by trade, and there in the farm community, he stayed quite busy in his blacksmith shop doing work for the local farmers.
Joe Buck made a good living due to his profession and that he was the only blacksmith in the area. He owned a 1931 Model A Ford coupe, which was quite nice in the days just before the start of the Second World War.
Joe Buck’s wife had passed away a few years before, and he could come and go as he pleased. He never let those who knew him forget that he was single and that he had an automobile and some money to spend.
Joe Buck liked to hang out with the young people of the farm community. He would always show up at the youth gatherings and church socials and many other events such as watermelon cuttings and ice cream suppers. So that he could be one of the crowd, he bought himself a fine horse and saddle. Then, when the youth of the community would get together for a Saturday afternoon trail ride, Joe Buck was always present with his fine horse and new saddle.
The boys of the youth group would seek out every opportunity to make Joe Buck’s life as miserable as possible on the afternoon get-togethers. If he turned his back for a moment or two, he might find that his saddle had been turned around on his horse, or his saddle girth had been taken off and hidden. But, with all the tricks that were played on him, Joe Buck never missed a community get together.
In a community nearby lived several quite attractive young ladies. Each time that some type of event took place over there, we, the youngsters of our community, were always invited to attend the event. Somehow, the news of a Saturday afternoon trail ride or any other event would always be known by Joe Buck. And, as always, before the good times of the afternoon got going, Joe Buck would show up, either on his fine horse or in his 1931 Model A Ford coupe.
Word was passed around that a cake sale was to be held at the old school house on a given Saturday night. The young ladies of the community would bake a cake or two and the cakes would be up for bid. If the high bidder of a given cake desired, he could sit with the young lady who cooked it, and they would cut the cake and the high bidder could share a slice with the young lady.
The group of young men there had earlier worked out a signal that notified the other young men not to bid against those who wanted to buy a certain young lady’s cake. This was due to the lack of money among the young boys of the area.
At that time, I was sweet on a dark-haired young thing in this community. I wanted very much to get the bid on her cake and enjoy eating some of it with her. However, as with most of the young boys there, my money was very limited. This was the reason for the signals, so as not to run up the prices that we couldn’t afford.
Shortly, as the cake sale was getting organized, in walked Joe Buck. Much to everyone’s surprise, Joe Buck was sporting a brand new cowboy hat. After making sure that everyone had seen his new hat, he removed it and placed it on top of a large old piano that sat right beside the window.
Within minutes, the bidding got underway. Joe Buck bought or raised the bids on several cakes, causing the young boys to miss the bids and not being able to share the cake with their favorite young lady.
The time came for my favorite young friend’s cake to be bid off. I had the total amount of $3.25 in my pocket. If the bid exceeded that amount, I would not be able to share the cake with the young pretty thing dressed in the nice gingham dress.
Much to my surprise, Joe Buck made the first bid on the cake. His bid was $1.25. I saw very quickly that I was about to be out-bid and my money was fast fading. I made the bid for $2.25. Joe Buck out-bid me by 50 cents. One could tell that my lady friend was very displeased, having to share the cake with the old man whom she disliked so much.
Disgusted and mad, I was about to turn and leave when I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned to find one of my good friends standing behind me. My friend whispered for me not to move, that everything was taken care of.
While Joe Buck was enjoying eating the cake, two of my friends slipped out of the building and went around and reached up through the open window and got Joe Buck’s new cowboy hat off the piano. From a pasture just across a fence, a pile of fresh cow manure was placed in the new hat and placed again atop the old piano. Within a minute or two, my friend whispered that everything was under control.
As the evening drew to a close, the time came for Joe Buck to pick up his new hat. By this time, almost everyone there knew what had taken place. Everyone seemed to be waiting to witness what was about to take place. After Joe Buck carried his cakes to his automobile, Joe Buck came back for his hat.
As he picked up his new hat from atop the old piano, the weight of the cow manure in the hat caused him to almost drop it. Much embarrassed, he picked up the hat as one would grasp a paper sack by the top. Hurrying across the large room, with his new cowboy hat in hand, a very red-faced Joe Buck hurried to his car.
This would end for all times Joe Buck’s attendance at the community youth gatherings. Losing my bid on the cake and not being able to share it with the dark-haired young lady in the beautiful gingham dress had been worth it.
(Singleton, the author of the 1991 book “Of Foxfire and Phantom Soldiers,” passed away at the age of 79 on July 19, 2007. A longtime resident of Monroeville, he was born to Vincent William Singleton and Frances Cornelia Faile Singleton, during a late-night thunderstorm, on Dec. 14, 1927 in Marengo County, graduated from Sweet Water High School in 1946, served as a U.S. Marine paratrooper in the Korean War, worked as a riverboat deckhand, lived for a time among Apache Indians, moved to Monroe County on June 28, 1964 and served as the administrator of the Monroeville National Guard unit from June 28, 1964 to Dec. 14, 1987. He was promoted from the enlisted ranks to warrant officer in May 1972. For years, Singleton’s columns, titled “Monroe County history – Did you know?” and “Somewhere in Time” appeared in The Monroe Journal, and he wrote a lengthy series of articles about Monroe County that appeared in Alabama Life magazine. It’s believed that his first column appeared in the March 25, 1971 edition of The Monroe Journal. He also helped organize the Monroe County Museum and Historical Society and was also a past president of that organization. He is buried in Pineville Cemetery in Monroeville. The column above and all of Singleton’s other columns are available to the public through the microfilm records at the Monroe County Public Library in Monroeville. Singleton’s columns are presented here each week for research and scholarship purposes and as part of an effort to keep his work and memory alive.)
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