About two country miles from Corbin Ky. Our mailing address was Watch, Ky. Zip codes was not even heard of in those days. But we did not have any problems with our mail. It cost three cents to send a letter first class and you could buy a post card for one cent. Of course it was already to mail postage paid . In those days if you didn’t have a stamp, you just put three cents on the letter and the postman would take care of it for you. Most people that had a mail box had a little pocket on the side of the mail box to put the pennies in. We did not have a mail box, our mail was carried by Sam Sturgil, from Corbin Post office to Watch, Ky. on a horse. Later on Charlie Partin took over the route and used his truck to carry the mail along with the collection of Hotel scrap, described later.
We lived on a dirt road, well when it rained it turned to a mud road. We would try to pick our steps and walk on the bank of the road as much as we could. I would always get mud on my shoes but now my brother Chester was not that way. His shoes would be just as shined when he got there as they was when he started. That made it look bad on me, Why can’t you be more like your brother ??
Charlie Partin lived on past our house, He went to town about three times a week, he got slop and junk from some hotels and fed a bunch of hogs with the scraps he got. Now old Charlie didn’t worry about mud, He knew the roads and just which rut to get in. The ruts was like a railroad track, he didn’t have to steer they would go straight to Charlie’s house. Therefore no one could come to our house. The ruts would take them past and they would naturally end up at Charlie’s . This junk that Charlie got was a great help to the community, for we would find our tableware, Spoons, knives, forks and some dishes that had been lost in the junk. Chester and I would go with Charlie and help him sometimes, he was always glad to have us, and we loved to plunder through the trash and find things that had been lost.
We walked to school at Lynn Camp, they would say it was about one mile, I would disagree with that statement. You see they went by country miles and that is a lot longer than just a regular mile. One time Jack Steele came by and had a buggy and his two girls Lenora and Opaline was in with him and was going to school. They picked me up and we went off out the road, Charlie was the horses name. Then Old Charlie pulled us up a hill for a ways but then he decided he didn’t want any part of that, so he stopped and then began to back up and he backed the buggy over a bank and that was the end of that. No one was hurt, we just missed a good ride.
We did a lot of rabbit and squirrel hunting, My Dad always said he was part Indian, his love and necessity to hunt came down from his Cherokee ancestors but I have been working in genealogy for a long time and never yet found proof of our Indian connection. Our hunting brought in much food for the table and some money, for we would sometimes sell rabbits, My Dad sold milk, butter and farm produce to people in Corbin, so sometimes they would want a rabbit. Hunting was good for us and it was a joy but it brought a tragedy that could never be lived down and no doubt followed my Dad to an early grave. One day some of the older boys took his shotgun and went hunting, Chester was just small, about seven years old, and he picked up the gun. The older ones was trying to take it away from him when it discharged and killed Hermon a older brother, about ten years old . That was not talked about while I was growing up but Carl Sturgil was with them and he told me about it just a few years ago. I know this also added to the loss of Hattie, a little girl that had died earlier at less than one year old. Hermon’s death did not change our mind about the love of guns nor did it stop us from using them, But it was never forgotten, I can’t remember this, I was too young, but I know that November 21 1925 was a day that effected the life of My Father and the entire family but I know my Dad always felt like it was his fault. I remember him groaning in his sleep. I also remember people talking to him and telling him he must live it down. It was no more his fault than anyone. Nor was it Chester’s fault.
Many people carried a gun when they went out walking, Maybe old Mr. rabbit would come along or other game. One time Jack Steele came by our house and was talking to Dad under a big oak tree, he just leaned his gun against the tree, but Lenora was just a small girl and she managed to cause the gun to go off, everyone got excited but Jack yelled out "MY GOD LENORA ! " the old tree was all that was hurt, it was marked as long as it lived.
There was a grey weed that grew wild out in the field. Some called it life ever lasting, or rabbit tobacco, we would harvest and dry it and roll it in brown poke paper and smoke it. That was when we was trying to learn to smoke. As time went by we advanced to butts that Siler and Uncle Millard would tossed it out in the grass. A good time was when they was making music. Millard smoked kool’s and would toss some nice long ones, kept playing the old banjo, so us boys would santer out where it was and get it and take it around the house out of sight of others and share it to the last drag. Little did I know that I was developing a habit that would cost thousands of dollars, damage health and this habit would take the life of many my friends. At last take the life of my youngest sister.
Chester and I dug a swimming hole once, down below the barn. We used it quite a bit too. I remember going in once in March, for some reason we didn’t stay in too long and waited some time before we tried that again. We loved to swim and went some in Lynn Camp Creek. That is where I learned to swim. It was over my head but not over Chester’s head, so he carried me to a big rock in the middle of the creek and set me on it, and told me, "Now swim to the bank." I would not , for I was so afraid. I pitched such a fit that he finally carried me back to the bank, He was a good brother !
We were like ants we laid up food for the winter, we ate like a family, at one time and all together. Mom would be frying potatoes and the nice brown ones would be on the side of the skillet and we would try to get them and Mom would scold us, "Get away from here and wait til supper is ready." My Mom canned many items, dried fruit and we would always kill a hog or two and that gave us lard. We canned sausage cured hams, shoulder’s , and side meat, we made souse meat " sometimes called Hog-head-cheese". We had our chickens and eggs, put potatoes in a hole, always had a cow or two for milk and butter, Lived pretty good ! We would take eggs to the store and trade them for the necessary items, flour, soda, salt, baking powder, oil for the lamps for we didn’t have electricity etc.
Why me ?? As a small boy Chester and I were always looking for excitement and generally found it one way or another. We hardly ever wore shoes in the summer time and upon several occasions when bees were harvesting from clover blooms. Iwas a mean thing to do but we would stomp bees with our bare feet. The object was to do it fast enough that they would not sting. So one day we was doing this and I was too easy so I got stung! Naturally I began to cry, Chester, so as to console me said to me, "Look I will kick one of them." So sure enough he did. Well as luck would have it the bee landed on my leg and took revenge on me. That made me cry the more. I think this ended the bee killing by bare foot stomping. Little did we know the good that bees do for us, now if I am mowing, and see a bee, I stop and wait for it to go out of the way.
Another time I got the " wrong end of the stick !" Chester and I made our fun any way we could, so in the cold of winter we made some tracks down the hill from the barn with our home made sled in the mud, we knew it would freeze that night so we poured water down the tracks so it would be ice in the morning and be nice tracks to ride fast down the hill, sure enough it was ice the next morning, so we was really ready to try it out. Oh boy! We went flying down that hill. I was on Chester’s back for I was the small one, I guess you know it jumped the tracks and we went rolling down the hill. Some how we exchanged places and I ended up on the bottom. Chester on top and my face was on the hard frozen ground. As I remember that ended that game. But we always went searching for excitement ! We both went in the service in time of war. We found plenty of excitement there! He, in the Army and I in the Navy. We split our forces. We knew that each branch of the service really needed our help! We both must have loved it ! For we both retired from the military. Chester did not get his retirement benefits very long but I have been receiving them for over 24 years. Retiring from the Navy was one of the best things I have ever done.
After we got out of the service we did not see each other too often, but during the last years we would go to Ft. Campbell deer hunting. Still in search of excitement, We did not go hunting in the areas that was for hunting but would apply for a area that was near the impact area and slip in the impact area. That was great for no one would dare go there hunting, this was the place where the shells landed when they was firing for practice. This made for more excitement, the deer hunting, on the lookout for incoming shells, and on the lookout for them looking for us from the air! I remember the first time we went, I was following Chester, it was dark and I kept noticing the holes in the ground, I inquired of him about them, he replied Oh! That’s holes where rounds have exploded, this is the impact area! I was a little excited but I knew Chester knew what he was doing , OR DID HE ??? I was not so sure when they began laying rounds not so far from us and us trying to carry a deer out that I had killed . Chester got tired and said lets take a break! I replied, "TAKE A BREAK THE DEVIL!" Lets get out of here! We was having so much fun! I could not hardly bare it! I know the M.P.’s was in a jeep looking for us but we saw them first and lay down in the grass til they got out of sight.
We was preparing to go on another hunt when I got a call that Chester had a massive heart attack and he passed away that night.
Now my family is gone, but I have a wonderful wife, daughter, grandchildren, and great grandchildren to keep my busy and happy. And lots of friends!
John Ray Partin
