Back to the neighbor who always went to bed at the first sign of darkness creeping in. We children would play tag under the street lights until the call to come in sounded. Well, one evening we were playing tag and running up and down the holler, and one hid near this neighbor's porch, running up on it for a short period, knocking over one of the porch chairs. The lights went on inside and here came the neighbor, and his wife, right behind him, to see what all the "racket" was about. Not knowing that the chair had been pushed over, here he belted out of the screen door, and mind you, the street light, haloed him real good, he stood out, and while we were all huddled around the street light he fell over the fallen chair. Well, what a sight to behold!!! Young eyes were glued as this poor feller's nightshirt flew up his back and there he was in the street light's gleam, butt naked, lying there yelling for his wife to "kiver me up, kiver me up, for these hellcats have done seen my a__, Lordy, Lordy, hurry..." She tried to "kiver" him up but we had all seen "sich a horrible sight for young eyes". Giggling we all parted and went home. You might say this was the beginning of streaking. Yep, old man Campbell "mooned" us that night and that was one sight not easily forgotten. To this day, I can recall it with a giggle.
Thursday, November 5
First Moon Shot From Hazard
I get such a kick out of reading Roscoe's quips that I found myself this morning reading his Red Longhandles again and I giggled out loud as I remembered so vividly one of Roscoe's friends who lived near us who would, like all the others, put their longhandles away when Spring came and they would start wearing their nightshirts. Yep, the old men would don nightshirts that hit them about the knee with slits on both sides, and even some of them, who were bald, would add a nightcap to this sleeping attire. Uncle Matt was famous for his nightshirt and nightcap at our house.