Pride of the Bluegrass

By Amarius Reed

Meet Drummer and Bug, two young boys who are are separated from their other four siblings during a summer in the late 40's. They stay with their Aint Netta and Granddaddy who is a well-known sharecropper in Springfield, KY and lives on acres of rolling bluegrass hills. The boys see all that goes on in and around Springfield, especially when their Uncle comes to town. Drummer and Bug use their brotherly bond to turn an uncertain time in their life into an unforgettable, fun adventure where they get into mischief, build a deeper brotherly bond, and learn valuable life lessons along the way.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Mar 31, 2021
• ISBN: 9781098363000

Book preview

1

MY OLD KENTUCKY HOME

Dear Lord, Thank You, for this day. Keep Your angels ‘round us. Thank You for blessin’ these hands to help people Lord, I pray I can keep doin’ it for Your glory…

Mama came over Daddy’s early Saturday morning to take us to Springfield for a while. They wasn’t getting along, so it was time for them to part ways for good. Granddaddy and Aint Netta lived on Burch’s Farm just outside Springfield, Kentucky. We always spent the summers with Granddaddy, but knew this visit would be a little different.

Lots went on at Granddaddy’s farm, with me and Bug right in the thick of things. Bug was like my partner-in-crime. He was a year and some months younger than me, so I was the only child for ‘bout two years. Would’ve continued with the good life if Mama hadn’t stopped me.

Yep, I almost took him right on outta here. It was hard being the firstborn child, then having another baby come in trying to steal my thunder. I hollered out, ‘All I need is one good lick!’ as I went to bring a small piece of wood down on Bug’s head. Mama grabbed it just in time wrestling the board from my hands that day.

Good thing Bug was too small to remember. He let bygones be bygones. Otherwise, we might not have been as close as we were. I blamed it on those ‘terrible twos’. We started out rocky, but me and my brother were tighter than a worm on a hook.

By the time our younger brother Nelson came along, our sister Rosie caught enough of me picking at her, and I was worn out.

Boys, y’all betta mind your Granddaddy, and don’t get into no trouble. Mama started down the street of the neighborhood. It was me, Bug and Nelson in the car. She was bringing Nelson to Aunty Sue’s house which was not too far from Granddaddy’s.

Aunty Sue was my Granddaddy’s sister. We thought ghosts lived in her house, and didn’t like staying there at all. Me and Bug felt kinda sorry that Nelson ain’t had no choice. Mama wasn’t sure how long she’d be gone, since she was looking for a new spot for all us kids to stay. She took Rosie, Liz and Kathy to Gramma Lilly’s house the day before. It was gonna be a big change when we left Bardstown.

We lived on the black side of town in a lil neighborhood called Buttermilk. Right on the outskirts of the city limits. The cops barely bothered with us and the white folks stayed on their side of town. It was an understanding that didn’t need to be said out loud. We stayed out of their way and they stayed outta ours.

 All our friends saw us off that morning. It was gonna be a minute before we came back. Staring out the window at the town, I couldn’t help thinking how I was gonna miss the place. The dusty basketball court next to the feed store was where the big kids hung out. There was only an old wooden crate nailed to a wooden backboard for the goal. Mama wouldn’t let us hang out down there, she thought it was trouble waitin’ to happen.

Weavers, the juke joint, sat on the corner where me and Bug would watch the men in their sharp suits tip in for drinks and a good time. The gravel in front of the small white building had big shiny cars in front every night. The next day we would overhear Mama talkin’ wit’ the ladies in the neighborhood ‘bout who was cuttin’ up the night before or who got beat up. That small side of town had so much to it, felt like a big city. It was kinda sad leavin’ it since we wasn’t sure when me and Bug was gonna be back. If we was gonna be back.

As Mama drove through town, I saw Ms. Mills walking toward the corner store. Mama, when we comin’ back to Buttermilk?

I don’t know, Drummer. When I get things squared away here. We might have to move to another part of Bardstown. I don’t know, but let grown folks worry ‘bout grown folks’ business.

Yes, Mama, I said with my eyes still fixed out the window.

I would miss carrying eggs to the corner store to trade for a sack of candy. Always passing Ms. Mills along the way. She wouldn’t say nothing. Just hum to herself and look straight ahead, strutting down the street. She always had her small black pocketbook clutched in front of her. Ms. Mills believed in lookin’ presentable when she left the house. She wore black high heel shoes, skirts that went to her knees, and the same gray sweater with the pearl buttons. I remembered the last time we ran into Ms. Mills.

 Hey Ms. Mills!

Me and Bug ran into her- almost knocking her down- when we bent the corner.

Boys, now where you runnin’ off to? The corner store is the other way. I hope you ain’t tryna cross Mulberry Street? she asked, with that tone Mama sometimes used with us.

We just wanted to take another way to the house, Ms. Mills. Bug was bad at lying.

Now you know ain’t nothing but trouble waitin’ for you on the other side of that street. That side is for the white folks, and kinda glad if ya ask me. We don’t bother them; they don’t bother us. I don’t think y’all two wanna be the first ones to get somethin’ started. Do ya?

Me and Bug shook our head. No, ma’am.

Ok, well y’all go on to the corner store-that way. She pointed our way to the store.

We knew what streets to go down in Bardstown and which ones we needed to stay away from. But every now and again we’d get a little curious.

We turned down Highway 331 and got to the edge of Buttermilk. Then turned toward the center of Bardstown, crossing into the white folks area. We passed by Sam’s Soda Shop. It wasn’t opened yet, but it always looked so nice and clean. Me and Bug would have killed to get a cream soda outta there, but we knew that would never happen.

This side of town had nice stores, clean fountains, and shiny cars. Even though I wondered what it would be like to have half of these things in Buttermilk, I still loved my little neighborhood.

Mama finally reached Bardstown’s city limit and headed out onto Springfield Road toward Granddaddy’s. We rode for a while before we got near the farm. It was beautiful countryside on the way.

There was plenty of fields with thick Kentucky Bluegrass. People who came to town visiting kept looking for grass that was actually blue. Tripped me out because it wasn’t blue and I wanted to know whose bright idea it was to name it ‘bluegrass’. The hillsides looked like big broccoli heads grew outta them. You could see where each parcel was divided. They looked like quilt squares with all the shades of green you could think of that shined in the sunlight and led you all the way to Granddaddy’s. There was nothing like the sight of it. Wasn’t no more corner stores or restaurants in the countryside—just bluegrass, tall trees, and flowing creeks.

Before I knew it, all of us was passed out in the back seat, mouths hanging open. Then we felt a bump in the car from leaving the main road for a dirt one. In Springfield, we didn’t have to worry ‘bout winding up on the wrong side of town. Out here it was ‘bout God’s country and, in some ways, everybody helped each other.

Dirt road ridin’ ain’t the best for sleepin’ long.

Mama, why didn’t Granddaddy come to Bardstown?

I stretched my arms as Mama looked straight ahead.

Ya Granddaddy was a sharecropper for Mr. Burch. Sharecropping seemed to be in his blood. It was like the stars had all came together perfect when Mr. Burch asked him to take over his farm. Daddy was down at the mill store in Springfield when he ran into Mr. Burch. Daddy knew of him and his family ‘round town, being that the it wasn’t all that big.

Mama cracked a slight smile, Mr. Burch heard through some townsfolk that Daddy knew his way ‘round planting things and worked well with livestock. He wasn’t necessarily sold on working land for anybody at first, but I guess the thought grew up in him like a seed he planted. Once the seed took, Daddy moved onto Burch’s Farm and started getting the land prepped.

Bug perked up outta nowhere, I thought Granddaddy moved there pretty quick?

Mama nodded, Well, the seed Mr. Burch planted in ya Granddaddy had a lot of fertilizer to grow in. At the time, his first wife- Mattie up and left ya Uncle Ron Ed, who was ‘bout ten-years old. Ya Granddaddy was working on a farm owned by Mr. Burch’s friend. That’s how Mr. Burch came to know ‘bout him. Granddaddy worked with Mr. Burch at one time on possibly selling the farm, but I don’t think he would leave that slice of heaven ever.

The farm helped me to forget the life in Bardstown with Mama and Daddy and their problems. Bug didn’t like to talk ‘bout it cuz he thought it would all blow over. All I knew was I was gonna enjoy the time out there as long as I could.

What was Uncle like when he was younger? I liked Uncle Ron Ed.

If you asked ya Granddaddy, he would tell you Uncle Ron Ed was a busy-body kid who couldn’t do right to save his soul after our Mama left. Uncle gave Daddy fits till he met Mattie’s niece, ya Aint Netta. Aint Netta moved in and married Daddy- to help out with ya Uncle- but once he turned sixteen Ron Ed ran away and didn’t come back. Daddy asked ‘round Springfield to see if he was in town somewhere. Rumor had it ya Uncle went to Bardstown running numbers for a loan shark. After ‘while Daddy stopped asking ‘bout him, figuring ya Uncle would be back someday, when he got the fast living out his system. He and Aint Netta got Burch’s Farm and that was how it went.

We kept bobbin’ ‘round in the car, Mama seemed to move with the bumps and sways.

What did Aint Netta do while Granddaddy was farmin’? I leaned over the front seat.

Now Aint Netta didn’t just sit ‘round twiddling her thumbs while Daddy was out doing his thing on the farm. Oh no, Aint Netta got her own talents she shared with the people ‘round Springfield too. You could say she was a nurse without the schooling. She helped the local doctor deliver babies and healed sick folks with her herbs. Aint Netta been helping folks since she was little.

Mama settled in the story and told me and Bug ‘bout when Aint Netta had to deliver her neighbor’s baby when she was only seven-years old. It was storming bad and the Doctor couldn’t make it to the house, so her and her Mama went ahead and delivered the baby themselves.

"After that, Aint Netta said, ‘God had a hand on her to keep doin’ what she was doin’. She never met a stranger and felt everybody-no matter what color they was- deserved some sort of kindness when they was down and out or in need.

She helped folks out alot with her canning too. Canning food was another one of her gifts. She could can just ‘bout anything, from ’kraut to sausages. She taught the white folks ‘round the farm to make ’kraut. They all was thankful for the lessons ‘cause it lasted through the winter. And couldn’t nobody fish or pick blueberries like Aint Netta- she played baseball too."

Aint Netta was definitely a special lady who always amazed us by what she could do.

2

Pearly Gates

Lord, You blessed Ansil wit’ a gift to put seed in the ground and make it into somethin’. I pray You strengthen him and lift him up so he can keep on wit’ this good work. He don’t know how much he does, not just for us but for all the folks ‘round us. Let his light keep shinin’ Lord…

Mama was staring straight ahead, not even looking in the rearview mirror at us. Her neck was stiff and tense. She was awful quiet and didn’t even say nothing when I got to teasing Bug. The usual jokes, pinching his nose together and peeling his eyelids up. He swatted my hand away each time.

Drummer knock it off, he mumbled.

We turned down the main road to Granddaddy’s farm. We were all smiles then. He was just as excited as I was ‘bout coming out here.

We wasn’t gonna stay with them all summer like we usually did cause Mama wanted to get back to Bardstown to get us settled in. Looking out the window, I saw the creek that ran behind Granddaddy’s land. Just to see all the thick green trees and pastures, you wouldn’t have thought it was home to quite a few families. The Burches, Cheshires, Hardens, and Brewmans all lived in the parcels nearby. They was older folks with grown kids that lived ‘round Springfield. They all got along alright with Granddaddy and Aint Netta, and didn’t bother Granddaddy too much, coming to the house every once in a while to get their shares of the tobacco and livestock. Granddaddy was still sharecropping which wasn’t normal after all those years for most black folks in those parts.

We passed by the Brewmans’ house which was on the opposite side of Granddaddy’s soybean and corn fields. If there was a family Granddaddy got on well with, it was the Brewmans. They was to the west of the farm. The Brewmans moved in the area ‘round the same time Granddaddy and Aint Netta did. Mr. Brewman and Granddaddy always went fishin’ together and helped each other out.

Granddaddy would go help Mr. Brewman with his hogs, or get some homemade wine working in his barn, and Mr. Brewman would come by to help Granddaddy seine the river and butcher hogs. Mr. Brewman was a trip. He made me and Bug laugh all the time cracking jokes with us. He got two little boys way younger than us. That was ok wit’ us, cuz we didn’t need no other competition in the area for Susie Cheshire. Besides, they seemed to always be coming down with something that needed Aint Netta’s herbs.