East Texas Serendipity: Discovering Stories, History, and Tales from an East Texan’S Perspective

By Neal Murphy

This book explores the answers to lifes many questions, such as the following: Who was Sam Hill? What is Adams off ox? What is the difference between a redneck and a good ole boy? It is a lead pipe since you will enjoy reading this book because it is what it is, a fair-to-middling, rule-of-thumb, bird-in-the-hand explanation of the questions that you have always wanted to ask but never got around to.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Sep 26, 2015
• ISBN: 9781514409190

Neal Murphy

Since Neal Murphy began his writing career in 2005, he has had over thirty short stories published in national magazines. He has authored five books, most dealing with growing up in a small East Texas town. He examines questions that we all have, such as the following: Why do roosters crow at dawn? Are mules really stubborn? Are skunks really polecats?

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Copyright © 2015 by Neal Murphy.

Library of Congress Control Number:   2015915415

ISBN:      Hardcover      978-1-5144-0937-4

                Softcover        978-1-5144-0933-6

                eBook             978-1-5144-0919-0

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

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Rev. date: 09/24/2015

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CONTENTS

Author Biography

Dedication

Introduction

The Experiment

Is It A Violin Or A Fiddle?

Fooled By The Bugle

The Bottled Water Craze

I’ve Got Dibs On That

San Augustine’s Last Hello

The Dorothy Mae Mattress Company

The Augus Theater

Money, Marbles, And Chalk

Hoppin’ John And Limpin’ Susan

Is It A Skunk Or A Polecat?

Ribbon Cane Syrup

The Tithe Bucket

The Cheapskate

Milking Public Relations

The Texas Ufo

Stubborn As A Mule

Why Do Roosters Crow At Dawn?

Will It Never End?

The Unmasked Man

The Water Dipper

It’s Raining Fish!

Wishing Upon The Wish Bone

The Yogi Factor

Who Was Sadie Hawkins?

Fish Catches Fish

Noah’s Ark—Updated

Love At First Sight

Butterfield’s Lullaby

The Christmas Pickle

It’s Mistletoe Season—Pucker Up

Is There A Doctor In The House?

The Book Ends

Well, Shut My Mouth

Redneck Repair Kit

Yodeling

What’s Happened To The Whip-Poor-Wills?

Are Beards And Goatees Back?

Law And Order

Fender Skirts

Sergeant Stubby

Chips, The War Dog

The Vacation Bible School Purse

A Man Of Many Talents

Raining Cats And Dogs

The Comb

An Arm And A Leg

Rednecks And Good Ole Boys

Loosing The Cat

Saying Good-Bye To Grandma’s Apron

Are Men Still Relevant?

Finding Graves

Haunted Hotels

Don’t Get My Goat

Wedlock Or Deadlock

Now, What’s Your Name?

Tact And Consideration

Mother-In-Law Or Woman Hitler?

The World’s Funniest Puns

Design Illusions

The Mad Stone—Truth Or Fiction?

Adam’s Off Ox

Fool’s Gold

Hurricane Carla

Camp San Augustine

The Perils Of Piano Playing

Did I Read That Sign Right?

The Whole Nine Yards

The Kitten’s Surprise

Giving Mabel The Slip

Made From Scratch

Sandals

Friday The 13Th

Asking Directions

The Spittoon

Texas—A State Of Mind

Eating Crow

Sneezes And Blessings

The Christmas Song That Almost Wasn’t

What Does Your Body Language Say?

Kids And Church

And The Creeks Don’t Rise

The Wrong Side Of The Bed

The Twelve Days Of Christmas

The Confederate Giant

What’s Up With Zombies?

The Big Chief

I’ll Never Understand

Texas Ghost Lights

The Lake Worth Monster

Chicken, Eggs, And Other Nonsense

Photographic Patriotism

A-1 Ambulance Service

Humpty Dumpty

The Country Doctor

The Hanging

Five Things Nobody Told Me About Aging

Wrestling Mania

The New Doofus

City Girl—A Pampered Pooch

Unsolved Murder

Where Have The Chinquapins Gone?

California On Fifty Dollars A Day

The Texas City Explosion

Uncle Melvin

An Alarming Situation

The Doorbell

The Modern Church

Living The Life Of Riley

Monday, Wash Day

Miss Belle

Nadia

Break A Leg

The Neuville Cave

The Fire Hydrant

The Screen Door

The Stick Insect

Halloween Regrets

The Rule Of Thumb

Fair To Middling

The Changing English Language

The Gymnasium

Texting

The Sabine County Prankster

The Wats Line

Dr. Miles Nervine

Miss Kitty

Uncle Marvin’s House

The Rosevine Tragedy

The Disappearing Whitewall Tire

The Army Physical

A Bird In The Hand

Happy Birthday To You

Who Was Sam Hill?

The Grandfather Clock

Cecilia

The Rodeo

Cops

The Mystery Of Santa Claus

Dressing Down

Sitka

The Lead-Pipe Cinch

It Is What It Is

My, How Times Have Changed

Beaumont 1943—The Perfect Storm

The Shelby County Houdini

Shagging Golf Balls

The Big Switch

My Culinary Deficiencies

Backing Up

The Copy Machine

The Security Tag

The Company Car

The Troubled Human Race

The Swimming Hole

Locked In

The Warrant Car

Murphy’s Law Observations

Jug Fishing

Broom Lore

The New London School Explosion

The New Mousetrap

The Poodle Puppy

Junk Mail

AUTHOR BIOGRAPHY

Neal Murphy resides in his birthplace, San Augustine, Texas, with his wife, Clara. He has two children, Kay Fatheree, a pastor’s wife now living in Freer, Texas, and Douglas Murphy, a retired police officer in Burlington, North Carolina, and has five grandchildren and three great-grandchildren.

Neal earned a Bachelor of Business Administration degree from Stephen F. Austin State University in Nacogdoches, Texas, and a Master’s Degree in General Insurance from the Insurance Institute of America. He also attended Baylor University in Waco, Texas, where he studied religion courses. He is a deacon at a Baptist church, has taught Sunday school classes, and directed church choirs for many years.

He began his writing career in 2005, and over thirty of his short stories about his life growing up in a small Texas town have been published in magazines like Reminisce, Looking Back, Good Old Days, Town Square, and Common Call. He had a story included in Memories of Mother, a book published by Xulon Press. Another story was published in the book Dear Old Golden School Days, published by the DRG Publishing Group.

Neal published the book From the Heart of a Country Preacher by Xulon Press in 2006. His second book, entitled Those Were the Days, was published by Xlibris Inc in 2007. In 2008 he published a third book, The Psalms–From the Heart of a Country Preacher, by Xlibris Inc. In 2011, he published a fourth book, Reminiscing the Red Dirt Roads, by Xlibris Inc. He has weekly stories published in the San Augustine Tribune, The Sabine County Reporter, and Our Town Times, and in two online newspapers, The Toledo Chronicle and Shelby County Today. He is also a contributing writer to the online magazine We the People of Shelby County.

DEDICATION

This book is dedicated to all peace officers who protect and defend us on a daily basis. I retired on December 31, 2014, after being in law enforcement in one form or another for over forty-four years. My son is a retired police officer who resides in North Carolina. My grandfather was a deputy sheriff in San Augustine County, Texas, for several years. My sister’s first husband was a Texas State Trooper who was killed in the line of duty in November of 1954.

As of late, it seems that police officers have become targets as they strive to protect us as well as themselves. What other occupation requires that all your actions on the job be recorded and videoed? What other occupation requires one to make a split-second decision and then be subject to months or years of investigating and second-guessing?

The police officer’s job is becoming more demanding, dangerous, and divisive as time goes by. I suspect we will find more and more of them deciding to retire early or simply change to a more friendly occupation. The thin blue line is already too thin. What will our country do when it finally breaks?

INTRODUCTION

Serendipity is an interesting word. It means the ability to find, by accident, interesting items of information, or unexpected proof of one’s theories, especially while looking for something else. It includes the discovery of things not sought. It is therefore my desire that the reader will become a serendipper, or one who finds things unsought while reading the stories contained in this book.

Perhaps you will discover why roosters crow at dawn, or the answer to the question Is a skunk a polecat? When you pick up a certain stringed instrument, is it a violin or a fiddle? Perhaps you will discover where the saying It’s raining cats and dogs came from, or the difference between a redneck and a good ole boy.

You might discover the answer to the question Are mules really stubborn? You might find out what is meant by the old saying Adam’s off ox, or the meaning of the saying And the creeks don’t rise.

The answer to those ancient questions may be found in this book, along with many others, while actually looking for something else. These stories are written from a born-and-bred East Texan’s perspective. East Texans tend to see things from a more relaxed perspective and are more attentive to the details given us by Mother Nature.

It is a lead-pipe cinch that you will enjoy reading this book because it is what it is—a fair-to-middling, rule-of-thumb, bird-in-the-hand explanation of the questions you have always wanted to ask but never got around to it.

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THE EXPERIMENT

Most everyone has a bucket list—that is, a list of things they would like to accomplish before they pass on. I don’t have a bucket list as such, but I was able to perform an experiment that I had wanted to do ever since I started in law enforcement in 1970. Now that I have retired from being a cop, I feel that I can report on this event that I was able to perform a couple of years ago.

On Christmas Eve of 2013, I decided to work out my experiment. My wife had made all kinds of candy and cookies for Christmas, so I filled ten sandwich bags full of the goodies and put my deputy sheriff business card inside and sealed them. I put on my uniform, got into the patrol car with my stash of goodies, and drove to the intersection of US96 and State Highway 103 in southern San Augustine County. I pointed my Ford police interceptor west on SH103 and thus began my experiment.

I soon met a vehicle whose speed registered 85 mph on my radar, my first victim. I turned around, activated my overhead lights, and pulled the car over. It was a rental car out of Houston occupied by a male and a female. I walked up to the driver side and introduced myself to the male driver. I explained to him that I had clocked him at 85 mph in a 75 mph speed zone. I requested for his driver’s license, which he handed to me without comment.

We have all been in this situation at one time or another and understand how frustrating and aggravating it is to be caught speeding, and on Christmas Eve to boot. The occupants were polite, but I could see the frustration and tension on their faces.

I checked his driver’s license and license plate through both the national and Texas crime information centers and was advised that the driver had no warrants and that his license was valid. He was the perfect subject for my experiment.

I picked up a package of the Christmas goodies and walked back to the waiting car. I said, Mr. Smith, you were exceeding the posted speed limit, and I should write you a ticket. However, in the spirit of Christmas I am giving you these homemade cookies and only ask you to slow down. The next time you drive through our county, just remember the deputy sheriff who gave you a break on Christmas Eve.

Their response was startling. Immediately their countenance changed. He handed the cookies to his passenger and said, Thank you, Officer. Let me shake your hand. I have never had a cop do anything like this to me. He shook my hand repeatedly. I was wishing I had caught this interaction on camera.

A few miles later I met another vehicle exceeding the speed limit. I stopped the older car and discovered it occupied by four teenaged boys headed to a nearby town. I checked the driver through the system and found he was clear. I gave the young driver the same speech and handed him a couple of packages of cookies. His response was, Is this a joke? One of the passengers came alive and blurted out, Say what? The driver turned to the passenger and reported, He really did give us some cookies. Can you believe it?

The driver of the last vehicle I stopped had difficulty in locating his driver’s license. He checked everywhere in the vehicle, wallet, and pockets and finally asked his wife, Have you seen my driver’s license anywhere? She thought a minute and then reported, The last time I saw them they were in the diaper bag. A quick search through the bag produced the license, but I am still wondering how they would find their way inside a diaper bag.

And so it went. In three hours I had given away all my Christmas cookies. Since it was Christmas Eve, and I had no more cookies, I decided to head back home. I did not want to meet Santa Claus flying down the highway exceeding the speed limit. I would have had to stop him, but I don’t think I could have outgiven him.

My experiment produced interesting results, which I wish had been caught on camera for other people to experience. Exchanging a traffic ticket with a package of cookies produces an amazing effect on the guilty. Suddenly you are their best friend in the whole world. I hope they will remember the spirit of Christmas through it. It did not cost either of us anything.

IS IT A VIOLIN OR A FIDDLE?

So what is the difference between these musical instruments that both have four strings? They appear to be identical in physical appearance, and they sound the same regardless of whether being played by a male or female, professional musician or an amateur. There is a musician’s joke that appears to give us a clue to the question.

Question: What’s the difference between a fiddle and a violin?

Answer: You don’t spill beer on a violin.

Now the real answer is slightly more complicated, but that joke just about sums it up—a violin is fancy and a fiddle is folksy. Other than that, they are pretty much the same instrument.

Generally speaking, the main thing that makes a fiddle a fiddle and a violin a violin is the type of music that it is played on it. As an example, the instrument played by noted violinist Itzhak Perlman would be composition-based music, or otherwise called classical music. He would make sure to play each musical composition exactly as intended by the composer, note for note, rest for rest, time signature for time signature, as close to perfection as possible.

On the other hand, popular musician Charlie Daniels will play music from the country and western genre, including bluegrass, or music that he has composed himself. If he were to play the same tune three times in a row each one would be slightly different because he plays from the heart and not the printed music.

Another difference in the instruments is probably the cost. This is like saying that there is a difference between a cup of joe and a café latte. There is no difference except the café latte cost about $3 more. Likewise, there is no difference between a violin and a fiddle except that the violin costs a lot more money. The words violin and fiddle both have six letters, and both refer to roughly the same musical instrument. Both can be used as a ping-pong paddle or to row a boat. Both have strings tuned to the same notes in perfect fifths: G, D, A, and E.

In some cases the fiddlers lower the bridge on their fiddle. The bridge is a small piece of wood that holds the strings up off the instrument’s body. When lowered slightly, it allows the bow to strike two strings at the same time, which is desirable in the country and western genre. It should be noted that a violin is primarily a noun, and it has only one meaning, which is the instrument itself. A fiddle is both a noun and a verb—Don’t fiddle around with that vase because you could break it. You never hear someone say, Don’t violin around with that vase…

The common thinking is that fiddles are simply cheap violins. At one time this could have been true, as poorer or rural folk usually played homemade fiddles. They were less likely to afford private lessons but learned traditional tunes at jams and hoedowns. Since many fiddlers back then did not take violin lessons, most could not read music and played everything by ear, whereas violinists could read music but could not normally improvise. It seems that the violin/fiddle gap has narrowed considerably in the past few years. It used to be that violins were stored in wooden cases, while fiddles were kept in an old pillow case under the bed.

As Bob Newhart once said, I don’t like country music. I don’t mean to denigrate those who do like country music. And for those of you who like country music, ‘denigrate’ means to put down. Nothing clears up this kind of doubt better than Ambrose Bierce’s The Devil’s Dictionary:

Fiddle, n. An instrument to tickle human ears by friction of a horse’s tail on the entrails of a cat.

Funny enough, it suits the noun violin just as well.

FOOLED BY THE BUGLE

Recently I attended a funeral of a man whom I had known for a long time. A military-style service was used, and at the end a uniformed man in the back of the room raised a bugle to his lips and the soulful sound of Taps filled the area. He had done a beautiful job on the instrument, not missing a single note. As I walked past him, I commented, Nice job on the ‘Taps’. He thanked me and then said, I think I need new batteries for my bugle.

At first I thought nothing about his comment, but then I began to wonder what he meant. Bugles don’t use batteries, at least not to my knowledge. I mentioned his remark to my wife who then chimed in, Well, I watched him play, and he definitely was not blowing into the horn. His lips didn’t move, and the veins in his neck did not stand out like someone blowing hard into something. It seemed as though we had a mystery on our hands that demanded some investigating.

I soon discovered that, indeed, most bugle players nowadays do not actually play the bugle at all. We, the public, have been fooled by a new gizmo that actually plays Taps taken from the 1999 Memorial Day service at Arlington National Cemetery. The resonating tones inside the bugle create a realistic horn quality.

Statistics show that World War II veterans are dying at the rate of 1,800 a day, each one entitled to a proper military funeral, if their family requests it. But the military is having a problem fulfilling one crucial part of a military funeral—the playing of Taps—because there are only five hundred official buglers in the American military. Most of them are too busy to spend their days performing at funeral services. In the absence of an actual live bugler, many services have had to resort to playing a recording of Taps on a boom box, something that doesn’t quite have the same impact.

To address the problem, in the year 2000, the military approved use of a battery-operated insert that is placed in a bugle that plays a recording of Taps made by an expert military bugler. All that is needed is someone to press the Play button and mimic playing it. The law further states that a ceremonial bugle will not be used when a military musician is available.

So now I understand what the bugler meant when he said to me that he needed new batteries. I thought I was pretty well up on things musical; however, this one surprised me. I certainly don’t object to it but am surprised that it has been kept secret for the past fifteen years. So this is a very good alternative to use to provide a dignified visual of a bugler playing Taps for those families who want it when a real one is not available.

THE BOTTLED WATER CRAZE

When I was growing up, I used to drink water from a rubber water hose in our front yard. Some of the mothers of my boyhood friends objected to us youngsters running into their kitchens for ice cubes and water, so we were referred instead to the outside water hose for a drink. It did not seem to affect my health in any way.

How times have changed with regard to drinking water. Two significant inventions in the 1970s contributed to this change. In 1973, DuPont engineer Nathaniel Wyeth patented polyethylene terephthalate (PET) bottles, the first plastic bottle to be able to withstand the pressure of carbonated liquids. In 1977, Perrier launched a successful advertisement campaign in the United States heralding the birth of bottled water.

Today, PET plastic has replaced glass as the preferred material for single-serving bottled water containers. Thus, today, bottled water is the second most popular commercial beverage in the United States. Why is bottled water so popular today?

Public water fountains used to be everywhere, but all of a sudden these water fountains have vanished, and bottled water is everywhere. You find this bottled product in every convenience store, beverage cooler, and vending machine. It is found in student backpacks, airplane beverage carts, and most all hotel rooms.

If one observes young college students walking to class, you will note that most of them are carrying three items—a laptop, a cell phone, and a bottle of water. It seems to me that most of the younger generation must have a bottle of water with them at all times. Why is this? Have people gotten thirstier now days?

If you take note you will see executives in important meetings all have a bottle of water. Even many pastors have a bottle of water at the ready on the pulpit so they can stop their preaching several times to take gulps of water. What has changed that water is such a necessity?

Is this bottled water better than regular tap water? In many cases it can be shown that bottled water is actually tap water and must be clearly labeled as such unless it has been sufficiently processed to be labeled as distilled or purified. Some water is advertised as having originated from mineral springs and artesian wells, but does this make the water worth the additional cost? Apparently, the folk don’t mind paying a lot more for bottled water just for the convenience of having it handy.

Today, in many cities, people visit luxury water bars stocked with bottles of water shipped in from every corner of the world. Airport travelers have no choice but to buy bottled water at exorbitant prices because their own personal water is considered a security risk. Celebrities tout their current favorite brands of bottled water to their fans. People with too much money and too little common sense pay $50 or more for plain water in a fancy glass bottle covered with fake gems, or for premium water supposedly bottled in some exotic place or treated with some magical process.

All this advertising seems to be paying off for the water peddlers. In 2012 alone, Americans consumed over 10 billion gallons of water, almost 300 gallons of water per person. This generated sales of $12 billion. That is a lot of money to pay for a product that you can get out of your own tap for little to no cost.

I understand that bottled water is bought for several reasons: having a better taste than tap water, more convenience, poor tap water quality, safety concerns, and health concerns as a substitute for sugary drinks. Personally, I find that toting a bottle of water around with me everywhere I go is a chore, and I just don’t get thirsty for water very often. However, it is like the man said when he kissed a cow: Everyone to his own taste.

It seems that bottled water, cell phones, and laptops are here to stay; and you are just not cool unless you have all three with you at all times. If that is what I have to do to be cool, just call me lukewarm.

I’VE GOT DIBS ON THAT

Chances are you first started calling dibs back when you were a kid on the playground. Coincidentally, the playground is exactly where the phrase is believed to have originated. It seems that the idea of claiming something by simply saying the magic words—I’ve got dibs on that last slice of pizza—is recognized by all concerned.

The sacred institution of dibs originated during the Paleolithic era. Cavemen or Neanderthals used dibs as a means to reduce fatal conflicts over mates, food, or shelter. The institution of dibs prevented pointless deaths by providing a universally acknowledged rule. If more than one person was competing for the same object, the first person to call dibs got total sovereignty with respect to the objects in dispute. This institution is the secret to the success of the human race and has been respected for over five thousand years.

Assume a group of men notice a cute girl. One among the group yells, Dibs! That boy gets the first chance with the girl without dispute from his friends. They respect the dibs rule. All of this started with a game.

Written references to a game called dib stones date back to the seventeenth century. The children’s game was similar to what we call jacks today; only back then sheep’s knuckles or pebbles were used instead of little pointy metal gizmos. When a player captured a stone, he called dibs, which meant that he now laid claim to that game piece. The word was eventually adopted by children outside of the game, but with the same meaning. Interestingly enough, the use of dibs fell out of favor with British children around the same time kids in the United States started calling their own dibs.

Strangely there are some unwritten but recognized rules for claiming dibs on an object. Calling dibs is only possible when the caller wants the responsibility of the object. It is important to note that it is possible to un-dib if the caller wants to. Such a declaration is often recognized in certain cultures as a means to avoid arguments over relatively trivial issues, although can be considered quite rude at some points. You are not allowed to call dibs on something that is owned by you, or coming out through you. In this case, the person who sees the object first is entitled to call dibs and, hence, claim it as his/her own.

The first printed use of the word dibs to express a claim or ownership of something is in a dictionary of American slang from 1932.

I don’t know about you, but I still hear on rare occasions a person stating that they have dibs on something, like, for example, the front passenger seat of a car. I recall using the dibs rule, mostly in jest, in certain situations. If you use it too, then you now know how it all got started with a child’s game several centuries ago.

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SAN AUGUSTINE’S LAST HELLO

The call was to ring out the old and bring in the new in San Augustine, Texas, the night of March 18, 1950. That was the night that the last telephone call was made on the old switchboard at 11:42 p.m. by Mayor Guy Z. Moore. After the proper switches were made by telephone technicians, Mayor Moore made the very first dialed call on the new telephone system.

I still remember our old telephone number, 930F2, which was our number for many years. The phone was crank type, which summoned a telephone operator who would ask, Number, please, and plug you into the proper circuit. This old system required a large number of employees in order to keep the service twenty-four hours a day, seven days per week. Mrs. Ralph Morgan, nee Miss Myrtle McEachern, was the operator who plugged in Mayor Moore’s last telephone call that eventful night. She had been an operator for over twenty-four years at that time.

As a result of the change, all of San Augustine’s seven hundred telephone customers were switched. The Southwestern Bell Telephone’s representative, Mr. Grant, requested that customers destroy their old directories and use the new gray book, which, for the first time, incorporated a yellow page section.

Although the change from manual to dial operation required but a few seconds, it marked the culmination of many months of work. Next, Grant said, our installers will be taking out the crank-type phones, as they are no longer of any use. Mr. Grant continued, We are glad to provide San Augustine with the most modern type of telephone system. It incorporates the latest scientific developments in this type of communication. The best in telephone service is needed here in a small city that has grown from 288 to 700 telephones in ten years and rendered the old type system obsolete.

Unfortunately, the change to dial made necessary the shifting of several of the switchboard personnel. Mrs. Florence Mitchell and Mrs. Mabel Stewart continued to serve as operators at the new system while others were transferred. Mrs. Ola Halbert, Nelda Faye Hinton, Fay Dell Baldree, Marie Clark, and Era Bennefield were all transferred to Nacogdoches, while Myrtie Morgan was sent to Lufkin. Six other employees were terminated.

This ended an era of telephone service with a live operator at the other end of the line. I found the operators to be quite informative. They could tell you where the fire was and where the ambulance was going. An experienced operator would pretty well know everyone’s telephone number from memory. These days, operators, who are seldom needed, are located in some far-off city and don’t know what is on fire or where the accident is. I suppose that it is progress.

THE DOROTHY MAE MATTRESS COMPANY

In March of 1929, Mr. Clifton Wilford Tannery and his wife, Nannie Mae, moved to San Augustine, Texas, from Hemphill, Texas. Originally from Cherokee County, Texas, Mr. Tannery was an expert mattress maker who opened his small factory on Highway 147 across the road from the high school. There his business flourished and grew. His company was named after his firstborn child, Dorothy Mae.

My parents, along with many other people, loved the Dorothy Mae mattress. It was stuffed with cotton and lasted many years. I slept on one of these mattresses for a long time, until I was married and left home.

During this period of time, cotton was the major commodity grown in East Texas. So, many customers collected enough of their own cotton to fill a mattress and would take it to C. W. Tannery, who then obliged them with a new mattress.

Cotton mattresses would gradually pack down over time. I recall that one of my duties as a teenager was to drag our mattresses outside for a day of sunning on a saw horse. After a time in the bright sunshine, the cotton fluffed up so that the sleeper would find it very easy to roll off the mattress on to the floor.

Mr. Tannery would attend surrounding county fairs with a booth set up in which to advertise his product. Apparently he sold raffle tickets to give away mattresses as prizes. He was known to occasionally place a mattress on the roadway and have vehicles drive over it to demonstrate its toughness.

In the early 1940s, a satellite store was opened in Beaumont, Texas, where the Dorothy Mae Mattress was sold.

In 1953, Clifton Tannery sold the mattress factory to his son, C. W. Tannery, who kept it operating for a couple of years. In 1955, the son then sold the business to Mr. Ed Mitchell, who operated it for a number of years.

I have heard several people say to me that they still own a Dorothy Mae Mattress, which is a tribute to the durability of the item. San Augustine was fortunate to be its home base for almost thirty years. I suspect that most of the younger generation never knew about this family business. Now they do.

THE AUGUS THEATER

If the walls of this old restored theater building could talk to us, what would they say? I imagine that they would tell us many stories of the escapades of most of the old movie stars in their roles. They would tell about the adventures of the Lone Ranger, Wild Bill Hickok, Roy Rogers, Gene Autry, and Tex Ritter as they went about their business of ridding the old Wild West of its bad guys. Those cattle rustlers wearing the black hats had no chance against these cowboy heroes of bygone days.

These walls would tell of Humphrey Bogart pulling the African queen through the water in order to save his love interest, Katharine Hepburn, on board the boat. They would tell us of how Moses led the Israelites through the desert for forty years in The Ten Commandments. They would reveal how the long-running serial stories continued their story line every Saturday afternoon as the heroes miraculously escaped sure death at the last second. But since these walls cannot talk, the stories must be told by those people who actually witnessed them. I am one of those people.

The history of the Augus Theater is an interesting one. The people of San Augustine can thank the Wade family, whose foresight and interest in movies introduced the talking picture show to us almost a hundred years ago. In the early 1920s, Mrs. Will Wade and her brother, Arthur Rhodes, decided to go into the movie business together. Mr. Rhodes bought a movie house in Jasper, Texas, and gave Mrs. Wade the funds to