George Singleton tells of Chester the pet raccoon and the infamous ice-cream supper incident

(For decades, local historian and paranormal investigator George “Buster” Singleton published a weekly newspaper column called “Somewhere in Time.” The column below, which was titled “Pet raccoon creates havoc at ice-cream supper” was originally published in the April 2, 1992 edition of The Monroe Journal in Monroeville, Ala.)

In reading the daily newspapers and watching the current news on the television screen, I am amazed at our youth of today and some of the things they do for entertainment.

We spend millions of dollars for entertainment centers and athletic fields where our young people can get together and work off some of their restless energy. This is all fine and dandy because it isn’t now like it was when I was coming along. Our youth of today need to be entertained.

I shudder to think as to what would have been said if someone had suggested that the community where I was raised should ever think about spending several hundred thousand dollars on a place for the entertainment of the youth of that day.

First, the money was not to be had. Second, the fathers of the community, this would have included my father, would have had massive heart attacks when such nonsense was mentioned. Work was the order of the day and if there was any spare time for entertainment, you provided the entertainment for yourself or joined in and enjoyed the supervised moments provided by the parents of the community.

I prided myself in having some unusual pets that helped keep me entertained. My mother and father always encouraged me to have some kind of animal, such as a dog or a horse, to train and look after. I had all of these and a large billy goat named Hercules. I also had a pet raccoon named Chester. Nothing was ever said by my parents pertaining to my pets except when one would do something that would get me in hot water. Chester, my pet raccoon, was famous for this.

Chester was trained to climb up on my back and feel in all my pockets for a peanut or anything that would help satisfy his hunger. Many times I would show off before my friends by having Chester look through all my pockets for some type of snack that had been placed there.

One night the community was to have a cake walk and ice-cream supper. I was invited to bring Chester and have him do some tricks and also have him retrieve something from my pocket. Prior to departing for the party, my parents cautioned me about Chester and warned me about his habits of looking into everything, such as food containers and such.

Chester and I were the opening act that night as the entertainment began there at the cake walk and ice-cream supper. After we were through with our act, I placed Chester in his cage, which was made of chicken wire.

Even to this day, I remember closing the door to the cage and fastening the door hook. I placed the cage and my pet in the corner of a small back room for safe keeping until the party was over and I was ready to leave for home.

In this room were three large freezers filled with ice cream and several cakes that were to be used that night after the entertainment was over. The freezers had been opened to test the ice cream to be sure that it was ready for serving. The lids had been placed back on the freezers in a careless manner until time to serve.

As the entertainment drew to a close, the ladies moved into the back room to bring out the ice cream and all the goodies that were to be served at the supper that evening.

The silence was broken by several shrill screams that came from the back room. Not knowing what to expect, all rushed to the rear, expecting to see some terrible monster crouched there, ready to attack, but this was not what everyone saw.

Chester had somehow gotten out of his cage and proceeded to sample all the cakes and goodies there on the tables. All that could be seen of my pet raccoon was his bushy tail sticking out of one of the ice cream freezers. He had already removed the tops of the other freezers and ice cream was running off the table. To make matters worse, he had walked several times across the tops of the cakes and the potato pies on the table.

I don’t recall ever, during my entire lifetime, seeing anything that equaled the back room of the old community house after Chester had done his thing. My pet raccoon was covered with ice cream. He looked brownish white as the ice cream began to melt and run down on the floor.

My raccoon act all at once became a total failure among the people present that night. I didn’t know what to say or do about my pet raccoon. Not waiting for an answer, a large lady present grabbed a broom and began to chase Chester around and around the community house. Each time she would hit Chester with the broom, ice cream that was on him would fly through the air like a heavy mist. Chester finally escaped through an open window and into the dark night.

I will never forget the awful looks and the ugly smirks from the ladies that had baked the cakes for the event that evening. I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that my act with my pet raccoon would not be in demand for a long time to come around that community.

To make matters worse, my mother heard the awful news the next day from that fat lady who had gained control of the broom. My father didn’t say much about the ice-cream supper. Each time he saw Chester with all that dried ice cream in his hair, he would burst out in an almost uncontrollable laughter.

I could see the handwriting on the wall about Chester. My dear mother kept dropping hints that I should find someone who might want a nice pet raccoon. Lady Luck was with me. It wasn’t long before some friends of ours came from the state of Mississippi to visit us. Their son, who was just a wee bit younger than I was, fell in love with Chester.

Chester and I bid farewell. I didn’t tell my friend, but I was truly glad to see my pet raccoon go.

I never did understand why our friendship kind of grew cold after my present to this friend from Mississippi. Strange, really strange, some people just don’t appreciate anything.

(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.)