Snapshot



“Kay Burke please come to the office.” Mr. Tackett’s announcement usually struck fear into the heart of the summoned child. What might I have done? Who saw me do what I did? Snickers of classmate, ohs and uh oh’s generally rose from the room anytime an announcement like this was made. Students at PGS heard tales and talk of trips to Mr. Tackett’s office. Legends of children sent to the basement, the wrath of Rube’s devil horns that seemed to protrude underneath his hair, were passed down from sister to sister, brother to brother. And worst of all: the electric paddle! Mr. Tackett stories were the stuff legends were made of in Prestonsburg, he ruled that school – at least in our little minds. Blackcat through and through, Mr. Tackett was a daily presence in our lives, the boys feared him but the girls adored him. So for me hearing that announcement wasn’t a scary event, it in fact was music to my ears, for it is the week before Christmas and there is a lot of shopping that needs to be done! Christmastime in 1969 marked the end of the decade and the end of a “stellar” year in America. We bested those nasty Russians by landing on the moon first, and Star Trek was a favorite new TV show. Of course, most little girls loved “I Dream of Jeanne” and “Bewitched”. I often walked around trying to twitch my nose or blink to get myself out of bad situations like math tests or Mrs. Frazier’s music class. Oh, I loved Mrs. Frazier, but let’s just say that singing was not on my God given talent list. So after a slow morning of math and English and watching Mrs. Warrix swig something liquid out of the top drawer of her filing cabinet, I was ready for a road trip! Fifth grade landed you on the top floor of PGS and Mrs. Warrix room looked out toward the nursing home, the fire department, post office and Court Street. Bounding down those dark brown stairs, my heart is light, for once. “Have you ever been whooped by Mr. Tackett?” I hear Denver call out toward me. “No”, I reply, sure in the knowledge that isn’t my fate to-day either. The main floor is full of little kids, getting drinks of water, going to the boys and girls room, running like ducks. Of course they’re excited, Christmas break is upon us! Soon we will see Bill Petry atop the fire truck on his annual Christmas Eve trip around town. This is one of my mother’s favorite traditions and I see a tear in her eye every year. “It’s so beautiful!” She would always exclaim. Probably the only non Methodist remark she ever made about Christmas. Leslie Burke was about the most traditional woman ever to live. We had mashed potatoes for supper every single night. I never ever tasted a Shake N Bake dinner in my life even if I did like the commercials with the little southern girl. “It’s Shake N Bake and ah hailped”. Nope, that’s not served in the Burke household. I did hear her though, say “sht” from time to time. My mother had a lead foot and I inherited it. We had a yellow Riviera, state of the art! That car had a little needle that you could set on the speed limit you were supposed to obey and it would buzz when you reached it. Buzz, sht, buzz, sht, I heard that a lot. She didn’t stretch it out like most southerners, “Sheeeet”, it was just a little sht, under her breath. I always got a little tickle from that. Christmas thoughts were swirling through my head, when suddenly a dark thought interrupted. I did do something wrong. Earlier in the day as we were doing silent reading, I had stuck my foot out into the aisle, on purpose, and tripped David Banner Leslie. He had slid like a bowling ball toward the blackboard and everyone had laughed. He was so embarrassed, his face as red as a tomato. I don’t even know why I had done it, curious. Nina Fannin whispered to me that I was going to "H-E- double toothpicks" for that. This act had made Mrs. Warrix head back to that top drawer again. So maybe Denver did know something I didn’t know, maybe this wasn’t such a good thing. Maybe if I twitch my nose this day will be over and I will be on Polecat’s bus on the way to Blackbottom. My gait slowed as I passed through the hall, past the big bulletin board in the hallway that the teachers had decorated with construction paper wreaths and hand cut “Merry Christmas” letters in red and green. I watched a little boy rip one of the handprints used to make the wreath and briefly thought about ratting him out to save myself. But from the looks of that kid he had two types of days: those that he had been to the Principal’s office and those that he was heading that way, so I journeyed on. It was nearing lunch and a familiar sight and scent hit my senses as I approached the office area: cigarette smoke and mimeograph fluid. The smoke was rolling, not from the boys and girls restroom, but from the teacher’s lounge. That place was a mystery to me, it appeared that everyone smoked, but you never saw them do it! The mimeograph machine was in full swing, Mrs. Tackett turning that crank quickly, copying jingle bear coloring sheets for the 2nd graders to complete for their parents. Turning into the office I approach the half door of the Principal’s area, the devil’s playground. Little kids are lined up, getting change, buying pencils and cool erasers from Gaye. She sees me and smiles, motioning for the little kids to step out of the way. “Come on in”, she says, “he is expecting you.” “I’ll bet he is I think.” I am about to experience the whoopin’ that Denver asks everyone about on a daily basis. Mr. Tackett is seated at his desk, head down, pouring over some important papers. Probably the papers needed to send me to the pokey I think. As I look at Rube, I’m pretty sure I can see the faint glint of a horn sticking out on the left side of his head, mercy. But my imagination pushes me over the edge, again, and Rube looks up with a smile. “I have a shopping list for you for a run to town”. YES!! A Road trip to Korner Drug. The list contained many items compiled in the teacher’s lounge. There was lipstick for Mrs. Fitch and Mrs. Bennett. Also some Russell Stover candy for Mr. Patton. Mrs. Cooley’s nerve pills and some cologne gifts for Mrs. Hatfield and lunch for all. The lunch list includes grilled pimiento cheese sandwiches, hamburgers and fries, milk shakes, vanilla and cherry cokes and cups of pickles. No money is needed, everyone just adds it to their charge accounts. Happiness abounds in my heart because I get out of silent reading and I get to eat a hamburger and have a coke instead of peanut butter and crackers! Even though I am happy, I do have a nagging guilt feeling about David Banner, I shouldn’t have acted upon that impulse, it’s going to eat at me. I resolve my inner turmoil by promising myself I will apologize when I get back, I may even take him a Blue Monday Candy Bar. But the road, or the sidewalk beckons me. I head down the wide sidewalk that runs toward Post Office Hill and past the nursing home. Dad and I often deliver medicine to the different nursing homes, even to one in Lackey. I love to help dad at the store, it’s easy to tell that I am a Daddy’s girl. As I reach Court Street I love to look up at the tinsel Christmas trees on the telephone poles. I think about other favorite decorations in town. I thought about the big red and white stockings that many people had standing in their front yards with their family name painted in black. The fancy houses on Arnold Avenue had those. I also loved Otis Cooley’s house on North Lake Drive and the giant Christmas tree decorated with the huge colorful lights! It was always a family tradition on Thanksgiving to drive by and see that tree before we went to the Jenny Wiley Basketball Tournament. Nobody ever decorated for Christmas before Thanksgiving and the Cooley tree was always the first. But the most favorite place of all in Prestonsburg for any ten year old had to be TOYLAND. Growing up I never went to a shopping mall, we chose our clothes out of the Sears and Roebuck catalog or Montgomery Ward. But when I think about it, most of the stores in Prestonsburg weren’t really what their name implied. Korner DRUG was way more than a drug store, Clyde Burchett’s JEWELRY had much more to offer than rings and necklaces. But Arrowood’s HARDWARE doubled as a very important place for children – Toyland! They had a doll that wets, badmitton nets, checkers sets and even Corvettes to play with. There were lights and buzzers, horns and sirens, meows and barks, toys of all kinds, and I loved to walk up and down those aisles deciding on which toy I wanted Santa to bring. HONK!! A loud horn startles me back from my daydream, it’s Dan Goble in his white Strand car with the loud speakers and I’ve stepped right in front of him. I’m always doing things like that, dreaming of things imagined and hopes unfulfilled. But it shakes me back to the task at hand and I cross South Lake Drive and climb the huge sidewalk in front of the store. As I step my short little legs up those big steps, a light snow begins to fall, one way or another this day will be the last day before Christmas break! I step into the store to see it full of shoppers and eaters, the smell of grease and smoke and medications assault my nostrils. Of course, Ethel is in all her glory behind the cash register, now she did rule Korner Drug and everyone knew it, especially Dad, Johnny and Hern! Often Dad would bring home something Ethel had baked, and no one liked. Mom would say, “Why did you bring that home?” And dad would say, “How do you say no to a grizzly bear?” So there she was, diamondy fingers running over those cash register keys, making that heavenly “ca-ching”. Barely looking up, almost with a sixth sense, she told me that she had the grade schools order ready, but that I needed to go in the back and wrap the presents. Among the number of things I like to do is wrap presents and today especially, it’s getting me out of lunch and PE. I usually like PE, but lately we’ve been in the gym trying to climb that blasted rope and climb the peg board thing on the wall. There’s no way I’ll ever, ever be able to do that! I’ll wrap a million presents gladly! The presents are on the back counter, cologne sets and a Kodak Pocket Camera. I know the rules: cheaper paper for the cheaper gifts and I can use the pretty silver foil paper for the camera. Task one of my legal “cheat day” completed, I have the gifts and they’re wrapped and marked for what is in each package. As I walk through the pharmacy I notice that Dad is busy, filling out billing sheets. Man if there was ever an example of how neat one should be on their numbers, it’s this job. It was painstaking and if you messed it up, guess what, you were waiting longer to get your money. So Dad was precise in his printing with his mechanical pencil. I knew not to bother him, although I also knew that he wouldn’t have minded. So I grab a big Francis Store shopping bag to put the presents in and head over to the counter. The very last stool toward the kitchen had the back broken off of it. I once forgot that and leaned back, cracking my head on the floor. I still liked that stool and I loved to twirl on it, so I jump on it, starving! Kathy knows my order, I eat the same thing every day: hamburger with lots of mustard, pickles and fries and a coke and she gets it ready for me while the teachers’ lunches are finished. I sit and think about Christmas and what it means and what I want Santa to bring. Some of my friends say there isn’t a Santa, but I don’t believe them, I know Santa is real and I need to pick out what I want. I tell Kathy that I’ll be right back and race up Court Street. The bottom of the big window at Arrowood’s is covered with a big white paper that says “Toyland” and has a red and green holly decoration on it. The hand written sign is used every year and the writing on it was cool! My guess is that they put this paper up every year really low to lure us kiddos into the store to shop, and it’s a good plan. I remember Barbie, and I know that there were popular baby dolls, but I didn’t own a baby doll and all of my Barbies were bow-legged. Why - because all of my Barbie dolls rode on horses. Horses were my favorite thing, so my search of Toyland 1969 took me straight to the cowboy and Indian section. “Bonanza” was a favorite TV show and I already had a Little Joe lunchbox. As I walked toward this section, my eyes started to scan the items and one immediately caught my eye. It was a horse, Little Joes’ pinto horse. He was so cool, he was black and white – a real beauty. But the coolest thing was that he had little ball bearings in his hooves so you could roll him and he looked like he was running! Oh, I wanted that horse so bad and he was #1 on my request list. As I continued to shop and look at all the treasures it occurred to me that I was very late. I needed to get back to school and pronto. I ran past Bob, chomping on his cigar, and yelled bye to him. Racing back to the drug store I was met with folks telling me that they had been looking for me. Lunch was ready and Kathy had it all loaded in a box for me. It was going to be a tough trip back to the grade school with a shopping bag and box full of cokes, and it’s been made even tougher: it’s snowing harder and starting to stick on the sidewalk. So my heart is light even though my load is heavy. After all, it’s the last day of school before Christmas break and it’s snowing. The little town of Prestonsburg is wrapped in tinsel and silver aluminum Christmas trees with revolving lights. The snow is falling so prettily, filling the sky with large snowflakes. I know that when I get back to school the buses will already be there, ready to dispense all the kids back to their homes for their own Christmas traditions and favorite foods. For the Burke family that meant watching Mom make cinnamon hard candy and Christmas cookies shaped like green Christmas trees and poinsettias. It means telling Santa about Little Joe’s horse, which I know is really my Uncle Fred dressed up. It means going to Church at Community Methodist and listening to the Christmas Cantata and the Christmas play. It means spending long hours at Korner Drug, wrapping packages and making bows, straightening up the Christmas card racks and occasionally peaking at customer’s photos and sneaking to read the cover of the True Love magazines and wondering what it was all about. It means getting home on Christmas Eve late after all the shoppers have bought their last present and roll of film. It means standing at the door and looking at the store one last time in the dark and thinking it looks tired. It’s still present today in my head like a snapshot.