A Story From the Past

 

 

      Once upon a time, I had one of these. Back in the last half of the 70s, International Harvester put out the Scout as an all purpose vehicle, but the public was not in the mood to purchase, and I believe it was only manufactured in 77, 78, and 79.

    Now, all the above is not really important for this post. It began this morning as I noticed a text from Dwayne, telling me that IH had sold the rights to Volkswagen to use the Scout name and produce a EV, to be manufactured by 2028 in South Carolina.

    Then he closed his note with this ending "Pitchfork not included".

    And the memories came flooding back to my mind. I have not located a picture of my vehicle, but I'll post it separately if I can find one. Mine was brown, with a fold-down rear seat that gave us a big cargo area. The back opening was a big door and the whole door raised when opened. It was great for carrying stuff, but here is where the pitchfork came in.

    The door was heavy, and the hydraulics to raise it and keep it up were not adequate. Soon the door would not remain in a raised condition but no one we contacted could remedy the fault. The solution was a pitchfork. If you opened the trunk and raised the door, then took a regular pitchfork it was just the length to keep the door up. With the tines of the fork fitted into the rear bumper and the handle end pushed into a crease in the risen back door, it was a steady prop. When you finished, just slide the fork out of its places, and pitch it in the back. We used that system without incident, but if someone borrowed the car/truck without being briefed on the makeshift solution, there was trouble. The home for the pitchfork was in the trunk, and we knew why. That back door was heavy!

    
    There were two obvious faults with this, our farm car. The gear shift was between the front seats in the floor, and insulated with a rubber sleeve to keep the heat of the running car out of the inside passenger cabin. As that sleeve aged, more and more of the engine heat came into the cabin. It was great in the winter cold, but not so much in the summer season. The other was an economic downer. The Scout drank gas.

    Both Donna and Doug learned to drive the Scout, and both had experiences that wove themselves into the fabric of family lore.

     Donna was coming home one afternoon when she made a friend of the mailbox. She drove up to the box to check the mail, but got a little close and knocked the passenger side mirror from the door so that that mirror spent the rest of its short life dangling from the door held by a couple of wires. When questioned about the incident, her quip became a classic go to: "Well, that mirror was not very good anyway".

    Doug inherited the Scout when it was time for him to learn and then use the vehicle. One day in winter, coming thru the McCallie Ave tunnel after a slight snowfall. the backend of the car met a Carta Bus. The bus had failed to stop and Doug got a heavy bump. It was enough to dislodge the front drivers seat which put him in an almost prone position, lying on his back looking at the interior of the car from a rear seat. Fortunately, he was not injured. The bump from the bus was also hard enough to knock off the oil filter from the oil line. It fell to the street, resulting in all of the oil running onto the pavement. Doug had to be pushed out of the tunnel by a police car which had arrived on the scene.

    This very well could have been a tragic entanglement for Doug, but he was fine. The Scout however was not drivable . The Chattanooga Bus Line was self-insured, and offered us $1,600 and the disabled vehicle which we jumped at. The repair was minimal, and before many days, we had a new oil filter, and a repaired front seat.

    Doug continued driving a newly painted Scout to school and other events. The new color was Imron Blue, an airplane paint that looked great on a plane, not so much on a car. But it was a McCallie blue body with a white roof and stood out in a crowd.

    After graduating McCallie in 1980, Doug took the shiny blue Scout to Emory. One day it quit running and the local auto mechanic said he would get it back to Chattanooga, fix it, and take it off our hands. For a few years afterwards we would continue to see the Blue Scout around the Apison and Collegedale area.

        I have looked everywhere for pictures of the Scout, but unsuccessfully. It, however, is in our collective memories. We sold it to that aforementioned filling station mechanic, where we traded while we lived in Apison. Its mental images have brought many stories to light and quite a few laughs over this time.

    By 2028, this new version of the Scout should be seen around town. If you are prone to a vehicle of this type, check it out, but be sure to see if it comes with a pitchfork.

    

"If my people who are called by my name...."

 From 2 Chronicles 7:14:

If my people who bear my name, humble themselves, pray and seek my face, and turn from their evil ways, then I will hear from heaven, forgive their sin, and heal their land.

(Holman Bible CSB)

Only Eighty More to Go..

   More than a decade ago, I read a news article that featured a man who had visited all the county courthouses in the country, some 3,000 or more. After visiting a few near us in South Georgia, Mayre and I decided that this could be a doable process, at least in a small way. 

   We liked the idea of traveling through Georgia, using the state roads, staying off the Interstate, and spending time in the smaller cities and towns here about.

   We began small, just visiting the counties near us, but then, as the bug bit us, we ventured out and covered the state's 156 county seats, each with its own courthouse, some new, but a lot of them older with a lot of history, and folks happy to reveal it to us.

   So why not pop the question to Carolyn? 

   No, not the "BIG" one, I got that one down already, but a simple one, "want to have a little adventure today?"

   After all, we had the afternoon after church free, and there were old buildings and people ready to impart facts in places we had not known about. 

   In the 5+ years we had been married, we had visited a bunch of cities and towns while getting acquainted with extended family, getting me in touch with Carolyn's bunch, and her finding out about mine.

   Tennessee is a medium size state, and we had already been several of these around here. But there are 95 courthouses, sitting in 95 county seats, ranging from small towns to pretty good sized cities.

   We have been in fourteen as this Sunday began, so, only 81 more to go.

   We scooted out of the metro Chattanooga area on 153, and just south of Dayton, we turned west to go through Jones Gap, down into beautiful Sequatchie County on my kind of roads; four -lane and limited traffic. South on 28 for a couple of miles, we came to Dunlap.

   One thing about courthouses on a Sunday. There is plenty of parking. Another thing; no one to answer questions. Maybe a standoff.

   I took a few shots of the exterior, read the inscriptions on a couple of monuments, and enjoyed the relative quiet and ease of the small town Sunday afternoon. Wanted to find some information on the building, but could not find a cornerstone. One possible clue was the plaque on the front near the front door which gave the names of a building committee and dated 1911. Google confirmed the date.

   One fact that I like to establish if there is someone who can; Since the country was formed in 1857, was there a precursor to this courthouse. Was the older courthouse(s) destroyed in some way, or was it still standing?

   After walking around the property (a true courthouse square), we started back for town central. A sign with the inscription reading Historic Dunlap Coke Ovens beckoned us drive west, which we did. At the end of a dead end road, we found a park with a museum, and exhibits from the coke ovens era. 

   At the beginning of the 20th century, a company was chartered and began mining coal on the higher land above the park. Then over the next 20 years or so, 228 beehive ovens were constructed to turn the coal into coke to supply the needs of the foundries located in Chattanooga, just down the road. The company then running the operation ceased operations in 1927 as the Depression took effect.

   The tour guide at the museum, Mr. Hugh, was a treasure trove of information about the park, the industry it contained, and answered our questions about the era and the business of coke. Carolyn can give you the how, when and why of this coke process and it's fascinating story.

   There are stories and there are people who lived, worked, and worshipped in the town. When you find a small county seat, you can be sure that the stories are there, too.

   Courthouses are the pretense for getting out, and you can never know in advance what the real reason will turn out to be.

   Adventures await!

   Eighty more to go.

   One at a time.

   

   

A Surprise Encounter

    I have written already about the Chattanooga District Pickleball tournament back in the first of this month (February, 2024), but there was one other item that should have been included. 

   The 2nd day of the tournament was for Doubles, and Jack and I, had to show up at the Community Center in St. Elmo. The directors had set up some matches for us. Even though we won our age group (85-89) (against no competition), we joined the 3 teams that represented the 80-84 group and played a round robin. This counted as the younger age group's medal round and gave us 3 matches to enjoy.

   As we met our first opponents at the net for introductions, I realized that I had seen this man somewhere in the past.

   He introduced himself as Carl. First names are the standard for these matches and I think I know why. It is hard enough to keep up with the score, who is serving, and which server number you are, without trying to remember names.

   As we walked off after the first game, Carl said "I think I know you from somewhere" and I replied the same. After a couple of minutes, he exclaimed "I believe it may have been church". That rang a bell with me, as we finished our match, and moved on to our next matches.

   On the way home, I related to Carolyn the exchange, and she acknowledged that that could be the point of our common recognition.

   As we waited for church to begin on the next Sunday, I saw Carl standing in the aisle close to our seats. He was speaking with a fellow pickle baller. (Carl is in the blue shirt.)

   It was the moment I realized where I had seen him and why the recognition was sketchy on both our parts.

   Most every Sunday, at the 8:30 service, this has been my view of Carl. 

   For about 5 years, we have been worshiping together at Brainerd Baptist, but never got much past "Good Morning". Now we are friends with several things in common. 

    Carl Ellis is his name. He is a newbie Pickleball player who has a good future in the sport. He made a bunch of good plays which did not look like a 4 month career in the game. Glad we got to play his team when we did.

   

Pickleball ......Day 2

 One plus One equals Two

    Yesterday I played 1 Singles game to 15, today Jack and I needed to play 3 other teams in best 2 of 3  doubles sets to 11.

    It was worth it. We both qualified for singles and doubles in the State finals to be held later this year. 

Day One--Singles

    Mission Accomplished

        3 People signed up for 85-89 age group playing singles

        2 People showed up to play

        1 Gold Medal

        

        

Here we come again...

    It's that time again.

   Tennessee Senior Olympics is holding Pickleball tournaments over the state beginning tomorrow as a prelude for the 2024 State tournament, which will be held in late summer. I will be playing singles and doubles in this Chattanooga Division action.

   Tomorrow will be the singles for my age group and Thursday will be the day for Men's Doubles. The age groups are the same as last year, so I will play in the 85-89 bracket.

   As in years past, the 85-89 list is slim in both singles and doubles, 3 players in the singles and 2 teams in the doubles. If you show up, you get a medal. Becoming an Olympic medalist is simply a matter of signing up for the tournament and being able to move and have a heartbeat on the date of play.

   Tomorrow is the big day. Singles at 8:30 in the morning. 3 men signed up. One is my doubles partner, Jack, and we play together at least once a week. We know each other's game and style. The 3rd man in the grouping has been my opponent in doubles but not in singles.

   It will be fun.

   Medals will be won.

   Look for results this weekend. They may sound impressive, but remember, the 85-89 bracket contains only those that can sign up and show up.

An Overnight Christmas Trip

   What could be better:

      Christmas Music

      Good Food

      A Resort in the Hills and By the Lake

      Quiet and peaceful

   Sixty or so miles up Highway 58, the Inn at Whitestone is our destination for the winter getaway.

   They were fixed up for us.

   The Voices of Lee, a choral group from Lee College in Cleveland, TN was to be our entertainment and they were superb.

   The resort was decorated for the Christmas Season.

   The Lion and Lamb facility is a dual use building with rooms on the second floor and a multi purpose room on the first level where we banquetted before the concert. Convenient was the placement of the buildings on the hill, sleeping accommodations, banquet and chapel, all a few steps apart on the ridge.

   An inspirational Christmas songfest, a delicious buffet dinner, and a great bed to sink into, what more could we ask for? 

   Well, we found out what!

   Waking up to a fog that took away our view.

   There was supposed to be a large lake right there at the bottom of the hill.

   The sheep below our window did not seem to mind.

   

   Our landscape was murky, cold and still. The only sound was that of an outboard motor, running south on the lake. I had heard some gunshots a few minutes before, so I assumed duck hunters were about.

   Before long, a light had begun to fill the sky.

   The sun was up there all right, and soon the fog would dissipate.

   Our songfest location was coming into focus.

   

 Remnants of the thick fog were fast escaping up the hill.

Just a few more minutes and the chapel on the hill showed its true colors

Truly a great one day mini vacation.

Merry Christmas

Fall From the Window

   Lots of folks travel miles to behold God's Fall leaf color bonanza.

   While down in the basement garage the other morning, I found an equally colorful view that did not involve even leaving the house.

   A Red Maple, glimpsed through a blind, made me think about the color in our yard and neighborhood.

   The early morning sun, welcomes the woody area behind our land, as seen through the breakfast room window.

   

A yellow/orange maple graces the back lot three doors down, taken from the side porch.

   Our third anniversary Ginkgo, who goes by the game of George, shows off in the backyard, as captured from the Kitchen.

   A Fall wreath, on the front door, shows a couple of dogwoods to the left and right of a magnolia, from the Living Room.

   Contrails in a blue sky, contrast with an older red maple in the front yard, also from the Living Room.

   A Burning Bush in the foreground, and our first anniversary Leyland Cypress, named Clyde, near the back fence, taken from the breakfast room.

   A special treat from our neighbors to the north, Paul and Linda. They had a pumpkin and gourd display for Halloween and Thanksgiving which they shared with us before they went out of town for the Holidays.

   So, I use this to wish all a Happy & Grateful Thanksgiving.

The Backyard Zoo

    Most of the time our backyard is a quiet place. Grass is growing softly, Burn Pile is just waiting, the Trees are just messing around, and the old Fence is just standing there.

   But the other day, the activity was non-stop.

   A Door must have opened up in the woods behind the yard. 

   A young Fox scampered across the open space, making his/her way to a favored spot.

   Then a crippled coyote spent some time hanging out and resting a bad right rear leg.

   Throw in a bunch of birds, some rabbits and squirrels, and a fat groundhog, and you have a might busy place.

I Once Heard A Saying.."I Will Choose Where I Live"

    But God Will Choose Your Neighbors

   I thought of that saying as I thought about what has happened to Carolyn and I over the past few months, especially the last week or so. It has been a time when neighbors have jumped to lend a hand when we needed help.

   It all began last Monday, when we woke up to find one sweet gum tree lying in the flat below the house. A wind must have snapped the tree about twenty feet up, and the top of the tree came crashing down. No damage to anything, but we wondered what we could do with all the debris from several big limbs, and a big section from the breaking trunk that was just too big to handle.

   Realizing that I needed to start clearing the affected area, I devised a small effort where I could use my small chain saw to cut the smaller limbs and pile them away from the large trunk. Then I would cut the larger limbs into logs for the fireplace and pile them also. My relief from all the cutting and piling was loading logs on the bottom of my small trailer then laying the smaller stuff on top of the logs. 

   After loading the trailer to the brim, I carried the small stuff to the burn pile and the logs to the wood storage shed to let those dry out for use when cold weather hit. Each small load made a dent in the storm's waste, but it was progress.

   Then I heard the voice of my neighbor.Paul, calling from the shared fence line, He had noticed my efforts and wanted to help. After telling me he had a larger saw for the big stuff, he volunteered to help me clear up the big mess. He could come with his saw and tractor that afternoon, and he did just that. Not only did he bring the equipment, he brought his wife Linda and her mother. 

   (Paul, front end loader, Happy Homeowner, Linda's Mom, Linda)

   We worked that afternoon for a couple of hours, making progress that we could see. As I thanked them for helping, Linda said they would be back the next morning and would work until we rid the area of all the damaged tree. I did not argue.

   They did, and we did and by lunch, they had done the job. Willing hands, the right equipment and time had cleared the mess and removed it to a new burn pile in the flat, and logs to be split next to the back fence.

   This whole project reminded me that good neighbors are all around us. 

   Sure there was Paul and his family. They lived north of us past the new burn pile and behind our common fence. 

   But they were not the only ones who gave their help this year of 2023. 

   Will and Deana, who lived to our southwest, down past our wood rack, were there with advice, vegetables from the garden, and keeping me from killing myself with a project involving dirt.

   For the past few years, I mowed the grass and weeds all summer long. We had a lot of open area, which in earlier times had been filled by pines planted by the CCC way back when. These had all been cut down over the years, leaving stump holes which decayed and sank. It was "rough" territory to say the least. Every time the mower dropped into one of these holes, the impact would rattle my teeth, and cause the mower to cease mowing.

   The answer to this problem seemed to be "Fill the holes with dirt and level the ground". This sounded simple and could be done with a wheelbarrow and shovel and time. It was true that this route could be used, but with an 87 year old man behind the wheelbarrow, he would never catch up with the new holes as they appeared, but would lose ground to all that already existed.

   Will suggested that we use his tractor with its front end loader to move a pile of dirt from a neighbor's yard, make a couple of piles to work from in our yard, and then use the tractor to distribute the dirt around the yard. Forget the wheelbarrow, the front end loader saved the day, and the back also.

   With Will's help a lot of holes were filled, and hours of back-breaking shoveling and transporting were eliminated. 

   Will and I were talking a few weeks back about the wood storage rack. I'm not sure when it was built, but over the years weather had taken its toll. The plywood under the roof was rotting out and threatening the integrity of the whole roof area. Shingles on the roof were falling off we knew the whole roof needed to be replaced. Will volunteer to help me build and even made out a list of wood and supplies that we would need.

   Before we could get to it, Rush, Carolyn's youngest heard about the plans and volunteered to come down from Nashville and redo the whole roof. He came last Saturday. We used Will's list of material and got the job done in part of one afternoon.

   Thanks, Will for all your help and advice.

   But there is at least one more good neighbor family. Talbert and Karen, with their two daughters, moved in toward the end of 2022 occupying the house to the southeast of ours. They came from California, and quickly Talbert became our go to guy, ready and willing to advise and fix. The first was a frozen water line from the kitchen sink. 

   But here was a man, who, if we asked him about something, just came over and looked, suggested how the problem could be remedied, then fixed it himself. Plumber, Electrician General Handyman, we called, he came.

   There was no doubt that we had nothing to do with why people lived where they did. We were courteous and waved, and spoke on occasion, but did not contribute much to their lives.

   God's Grace had provided"hands on" neighbors, who volunteered to help when they saw a need.

   And we thank God for each one.

2023 Senior Olympics...Late Edition

   The Story from Day one is the previous post.

   Two Days, A Saturday, concludes the tournament for this player.

   Thursday, A Gold Medal in Mens Doubles.

   Saturday, A Silver Medal in Mens Singles.

   God Has Blessed This Player With Good Health.

   And He Is Very Grateful.

No Free Lunch This Year

 

  

Over the past couple of years, Senior Olympics has presented some of its older participants the equivalent of the Free Lunch. By having it's age grouping contain a 85-89 category, it narrowed the number of older players so that the team or individual that had the energy to register and show up for the State finals in Pickleball automatically won the gold medal.

   Indeed, I have several gold medals that were "earned" in this way. Over the past few years I have enjoyed the status of "gold medal winner", but have always hastened to tell the whole story in a self-deprecating way.

   2023 is a different year. Most of the events in the overall Senior Olympics have been contested in the Nashville area, which is in Middle Tennessee. Pickleball has been in Chattanooga for the past 3 years at least. This city in Southeastern Tennessee, is not an easy drive for those folks who live west of us, so few make the trip. 

   Pickleball, this year is a 4-day event. That means a long drive, higher hotel bills, and a possible 4 days of participation for all those who do not live in our corner of the state. 

   The result in previous years: Most of the P/b medals were won by players in our area, and the older age groups contained only Chattanooga area players. My gold medals, were virtually uncontested. They hang on my wall downstairs, not a a symbol of quality play, but one of the blessing of overall health.

   Not this year. The Senior Olympic organization made a special effort to get P/b players from other parts of the state, and the 2023 State Finals drew 630 players, at least 100 more than previous years.

   So the 85-89 age group for men's doubles play had more than one contesting team. Jack and I could not win by just showing up. A west Tennessee team made the trip east, and as we watched them practice before the gold medal match, we knew they did not just come for the scenery.   

   The convention center was our venue. With 30 courts. filled with players, the activity was pretty loud and it was continuous. Our scheduled time to show up was 8AM on the first day of the Finals. 

   We even had new T-Shirts for our BX team.

   Jack and I were behind for most of the first set, but managed to close with 3 straight points to win 11-9. Flush with our first game victory, we managed to lose the second game 2-11. Regrouping, we won the third game 11-5 to claim the age group title.

   Gold Medals again this year, but with more sweat on them. 

   It is fun to win the gold, but more fun to have good competition and still take home the medal.

   The lunch tasted far better.

What We Needed Was a Good Rain

    We needed rain, but this?

    And the Bunny reminds us:

    We Are Not in Control

    Amen

Launching "The Carodon"..

    At long last, the weather and the water have cooperated. Both are warmer.

   And the graduation circuit of May, has been completed, in person and on time.

   First the new graduates in the family and their immediate plans:

   Conway, AR was our first stop for Archer's graduation from University of Central Arkansas. This amazing young man is working with a career coach to determine his path forward. Proud parents and sister Ash celebrate.

   Next stop, Blacksburg, VA for Drew's graduation from Virginia Tech. He will be working in Richmond, and ready to spread his wings. Mom and Dad are proud for sure.

   We spent the week in Blacksburg to be able to watch Lucy graduate from Blacksburg High. She will enroll at Virginia Tech in the Fall. Go Hokies.

   Now back to goings on in Chattanooga, specifically, Clark Road and Chickamauga Lake.

   Remember this pic from Christmas Time? The inflatable kayak, our newest toy.

   The Lady in the front seat, keeps us out of harm's way as we manage to paddle down the slough and then head back to our dock. We were sorta awkward in the water, but we will get better if we don't fall out of the boat.