Around the Perry County Court House was God’s given air conditioners, trees and grass. There was a wall all around the front with a flat top that provided seats for people. The steps held so many memories. At the top was a flat top where one sometimes saw a man taking a nap with his face covered with his hat.
Some of the people met and sat on the wall at the court house. That was their neighborhood club where they chewed cuds, rolled cigarettes, whittled cedar shavings, swapped knives and spat ambeer. They were good citizens and didn’t bother anybody.
Some of them who met there were: Cary and Moody Horn, Jerry McIntosh, John Flat Williams, John Buck Combs, Ed Ivy, “Cigarette” Joe Smith (our surveyor for 60 years), Boo-Daddy Standifer, Fiddler Joe Cornet, White Jim Combs, Tug Fields, Zack Duff, Roy and Brown Baker, Taylor Bingham, and Red Bob Combs. When one heard a loud, “”wha!” wha!” you knew that Tug, Cary or White Jim had just told “another good un.”
I dedicate the following poem to these gentlemen ...
Under the Sugar Maple shade they sat on this flat wall, talked, laughed, smoked, spat and had a ball. Gone, all gone, now in their graves they lie, stop - listen and wipe a tear from out your eye. As you walk along Main Street, you get a message clear and sweet. We once lived and loved this city, so to the Court House Club, I leave this ditty.