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Story Archives: It's good to remember the good old days
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It's good to remember the good old days
Do you remember Gene Autry? He starred in 94 films and recorded 635 songs. No wonder he can own the California Angels.
How about Roy Rogers, Whip Wilson, Lash LaRue, The Lone Ranger and The Pecos Kid? If you remember them, then you are probably pushing 60 years old, and then some. We paid nine cents to get into the movies on Saturday morning. You could always pick out the good guys in the movies because most of them wore white hats. And that is the truth.
Saturday morning in Tallulah was the occasion for us kids to go to the picture show. We would always see a good movie. No one took off their clothes. Shucks was the worst word that you would hear.
If you missed a Saturday morning, you would miss part of the serials that carried over from week to week. Captain Marvel, Super Man and Flash Gordon. We would have a good Looney Tunes comedy and then we would settle in for the big show, usually a shoot 'em up or a war movie.
In fact, the only movie that I remember seeing that was not a Western or a war movie was Knute Rockne. Our whole family went to see Knute Rockne. Daddy did not know it, but I saw those tears falling from his eyes when Coach Rockne died in a plane crash. Since Daddy was a football coach, it made the film that much more personal.
I saw my first 3-D movie in Tallulah. We all had on our 3-D glasses. The only part of the show that was 3-D was at the very end when a big frog leaped right out of the screen. No one was prepared for that frog jumping in his lap. We all had sore necks the next day.
I rode over to Tallulah several weeks ago just to remember some of these times. My first visit was to the football field. I parked in the parking lot of the First Baptist Church, which was across the street from the football stadium. I paused a few minutes to allow the thoughts to cruise through my mind as I viewed the past. I entered through the gates and slowly walked onto the field.
My thoughts first turned to the visitor's side for a few minutes where I had spent one of the most glorious nights in my short coaching career. I had brought my Farmerville team to play the heavily favored and mighty Tallulah Trojans. We won 27 to 6. That game was my national championship. Nothing could have replaced the emotions that I experienced on the same field where my daddy had become a legendary figure. But that night was mine to store in my memory banks to withdraw on those days that I needed a good thought to give myself a lift.
Then I walked to the home team's bench. This was the same ground where my daddy had paced over 60 years ago. I could feel his presence. I could see him in his brown suit. I visualized players like Sonny Clark, Wallace Hargon, Arlen Ray Gardener, Jackie White, "Guts" Bradley, Richard Powell, Martin Verhagen, I.T. "Doe Doe" Caruthers, Howard Brown, Billy Laird, Boone Halbach, and so many more too numerous for this column. I thought about all the play-off games and state championships. Tallulah played for the state championship four years in a row. I did not attend many loses in those nine years. Very good for a growing boy's ego. I was so lucky.
I spent the rest of the day driving around town and driving on some of the back roads of Madison Parish. Hours later, I turned my car westward and headed back to reality. It was good to remember.
Robert Charles Payne is an inspirational writer who lives in West Monroe. He can be contacted by e-mailing robertcharlespayne@yahoo.com. |
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