Short Stories or the Legend of U. Edward Robinette

By Ed Robinette

I begin writing at 85 year, old when my grandchildren wanted me to write what I did in the war in WWII. I have never written or told anyone about what I did before, but I try to put it a book. The story was alright by the grammar was trouble. After that book, I went to night school of two years and joined a writing class. I begin to like writing and today, I have four books on Amazon and in book stores.
I have just turn 94, and don’t planned anymore writing, so I’m sending the short stories that I have written in the book for last nine years. I hope you may like some of them. The Author

• Language: English
• Publisher: LifeRich Publishing
• Release date: Jun 5, 2019
• ISBN: 9781489722850

Ed Robinette

He lives in Chattanooga, Tennessee, and has two children, six grandchildren, and five great grandchildren. He volunteers for the Red Cross and Hospice of Chattanooga and is a member of the Christian Writers Club and the Chattanooga Writers Guild. He is author of The Adventures of a Young Marine, The Adventures of Lee Robinson, Sara, Dominica, and The Michael, A Story of Faith and Detective Sam Wilson

Book preview

1

One Hundred Years Ago—1911

O nly 14 percent of the homes had a bathtub. There were only 8000 cars and only 144 miles of paved roads. The maximum speed limit in most cities was 10 mph. The average U.S. wage in 1910 was 22 cents per hour. More than 95 percent of all births took place at home. Ninety percent of all Doctors had NO COLLEGE EDUCATION. Instead they attended so-called medical schools, many of which were condemned in the press and the government as ‘substandard.’

Sugar cost four cents a pound. Eggs were fourteen cents a dozen. Coffee was fifteen cents a pound. Most woman washed their hair only once a month and used egg yolks for shampoo. The American flag had 45 stars. The population of Las Vegas, NV, was 30.

There was neither a Mother’s Day nor Father’s Day. Two out of every 10 adults couldn’t read or write and only 6 percent of all Americans had graduated from high school. Marijuana, heroin, and morphine were all available over the counter at the local corner drugstores. The 5 leading causes of death were. Pneumonia, and influenza. 2. Tuberculosis 3. Diarrhea 4. Heart disease 5. Stroke There were about 230 reported murders in the ENTIRE USA.

2

The Way It Was

Ed Robinette

Age 86

M y life began on April 20, 1925 and resided on Missionary Ridge, TN. I was born in the middle of the depression and less than half of the population had a job. You didn’t live, you existed! Missionary Ridge was known for many Civil War soldiers from the north and south last days on this earth. I would go to any large tree and find shells and bullets. There were no buses and few cars on the road. On Saturday, mother would bundle me up and carry me to the station to catch the street car and go to town. The fare was five cents, each way, and it took all day to go to town and back. We moved from house to house every couple of years because mom and dad got behind on the rent. It was rare to own a home at that time. Farmers lost their farms to carpet baggers that invaded the south. We were poor but as a kid I didn’t realize how poor we were until I was much older. Everyone was poor during the depression.

When I reached six years old, I had to attend school. Rain or snow, we walked a mile one way. I really didn’t like that, but mom said it was the law. Sometimes I would skip class and hide in the outhouse, not a very pleasant smell. The mean lady called a truant officer would find me there and grab me by the ear and dragged me to class. I would get paddled by the principal who kept a hickory paddle in his drawer.

I really liked recess but didn’t care much for the other classes. My mom would fix my lunch Monday thru Thursday, which consisted of two biscuits, one with streaked meat and one with jelly. She sometimes gave me a nickel for milk, or I had water. I liked Friday’s best because we got free soup for lunch. Once a year I would get a free pair of shoes and socks. Some days school wasn’t so bad, especially when a new girl with long pony tails sat in front of me. She was pretty, and she liked me until one day I cut her pony tails off because they kept getting on my desk. She was not happy, and I got another paddling.

Contrary to my actions, I survived grammar school and went to high school. Many people still didn’t have jobs, my dad was considered lucky he worked for WPA. He made enough to pay rent and they gave us some groceries. We lived in East Lake with only one car, but it sat idol, most of the time because we couldn’t afford gas. It was 18 cents a gallon.

We lived in the city and everyone had chickens in their back yard. I learned at the age of 10 how to break the neck of a chicken. Sometimes they didn’t die right away and would run around. We had chicken on the weekends but most days it was beans and cornbread. Mom had a small garden, so we never went hungry, she would sew up the holes in our socks and kept Watkins black salve for our cuts and bruises. If we were sick, she gave us castor oil or black draft. When dad got sick, he drank a glass of whiskey mixed with hard candy. It seems he was sick a lot.

There were no super markets only small groceries. I could buy half gallon of buttermilk for a nickel. With cornbread that was our supper. Mom sometimes made an apple pie, we had an apple tree. We couldn’t afford to buy much at the store, bread and boloney was five cents, milk and butter was a dime, and we ate lots of boloney. Mom never let us go hungry.

When I turned 14 my dad bought a used 22 caliber gun for ten dollars, almost a week’s pay. My brother was 16 and had a gun. Dad gave me the 22 and said, You and your brother put some meat on the table. We hunted on the weekends and were lucky most of the time and brought home meat. On Sundays we would have squirrel, rabbit, raccoon or possum. Dad would clean and soak them, and mom added the sweet potatoes. My brother and I got very good with our guns which helped me becoming a sharpshooter in the Marines.

We hunted in the winter and fished in the summer. My favorite was frog hunting, we took a flour sack, tie to our belts, flashlight and a very sharp stick to catch frogs. On a good night we would come home with a sack full and a feast for supper. Dad lost his job and started night fishing on the river. If they had a good night, they could sell their catch to the local store or trade for bread, milk or flour. One time he brought a large turtle it was delicious, it tasted like chicken. We never went hungry.

In the thirty’s neighbors took care of each other. If you bought or sold something, it was sealed with a hand shake. There was very little crime. In the summer our windows were always open. The back door was left open with only the screen door fasten. (Sometimes) When I was six or eight, I saw my Mother let a homeless man set at our table and feed him. When he was finished and ready to go, she would stuff his pockets with biscuits. No one left hungry.

There were no super markets, only small stores. We never had Kleenex, paper towels, or toilet paper. But Mom always had a Sears catalog in the bath room. We only had cold, water and was heated on the stove to take a bath. Most of the homes didn’t have a refrigerator, only ice boxes. My brother drove a horse and buggy and delivered ice. It was sold in blocks of 25, 50, and 100 pounds. He made ten dollars a week.

The 40’s came along, and things got a little better. Dad went back to work; my brother quit school and went to work in the foundry where my Dad worked. My Dad was born in West Virginia, went to work in the coal mines when he was 14. Later he came to Chattanooga and worked in the foundry at the age of 16, and, married at 17. All he knew was work. Never own a home, and never had a car until he was 60. It was a hard life raising three kids on twenty dollars a week.

I was sixteen years old now, and in my second year of high school. I cut grass and made money for movies. My friend, Harry Wise, on Saturday we would walk three miles to town and catch the first show. It was always a Western, and could have been Gene Autry, Roy Rogers, Tom Mix or Bob Steel. The show started at ten, and we were there with our 25 cents. The movie cost 15 cents, and we had a dime left for popcorn and a coke.

On December 7th the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor. People were mad and signed up for the Armed Forces. Harry and I quit school, hoping that my Dad would sign the papers for me to join the Marines, but he wouldn’t, so I found a job making wood coffins. I made ten dollars a week, and after six months I got a quarter raise. The most money I ever made in my young life.

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My birthday was April 20th, and on June the first, I joined the Marines.

And that was

THE WAY IT WAS

3

The Storm

Ed Robinette

Age 85

I read Thursday’s paper, and there was a craft show this weekend in Gatlinburg TN. It had been two years since my wife died, and I started wood carving again. I had several pieces I thought I could get a good, price. I had a Red Cross meeting on Monday but would be back on Sunday.

I packed several wood carvings in my car, called my son and told him I would be back on Sunday. My plan was to stay Friday and Saturday nights. I checked the weather channel and it was calling for snow on Sunday. That’s okay I’ve will be back before then, or I thought!

It was a pleasant trip, I did notice some light snow falling but not to worry the sky was clear. I made it to my motel and checked in for two nights, went to dinner and decided it was too cold to walk around. I checked some of my carvings and went to bed.

Saturday morning, I ate at the Pancake House and proceeded to the trade center where the craft show was being held. I paid for my booth, arranged my carvings and now open for business. There was a good crowd and I sold most of my carvings before noon. I wished I had brought more.

People were coming in and said it was snowing, and the paper said it could be up to 8 to 10 inches by Sunday. I gathered my items and went back to my motel. I told the clerk that I would check out early Sunday morning because I didn’t want to get stuck in town. I had a meeting on Monday.

The next morning, I checked out and the ground had 3 to 4 inches already. I headed down to Pigeon Forge and turned onto Ware Valley Road thinking it would be faster. Almost reached Townsend when I was blocked by a big truck stuck in the road. I turned around and went back couple of miles to a fork in the road and a store nearby.

Does one of these roads take me to highway 75? I asked the store clerk.

Both do, he said with a deep southern drawl. It depends how soon you want to get there.

The paved road is twenty miles to the highway; the dirt road is nine miles and with a few pot holes, but you can make it.

Sometimes a dirt road is better in the snow, more traction, he said.

Looked, is there a gas station close by? I had to back track for a wreck and now low on gas.

Nope! Not until you get to the highway, he replied.

Then I better take the short route. Are you sure I can make it?

Two cars took that route couple of hours ago, just be careful there’s not many houses along the way, he said spitting out tobacco juice.

I got back into my car and looked at my gas, gauge and cursed myself for not filling up when I left town. Hopefully I had enough gas for nine miles. I had no choice; I didn’t want to get snowed in. The heavy snow won’t get here until Sunday evening according to the paper.

I took the short dirt road and drove slowly to save gas. I drove about five miles and no houses in sight. I was beginning to get worried. What would I do if I ran out of gas, no extra blankets in the car and only one jacket I drove a little farther and saw a farm house; a light was on and I felt safe if I ran out of gas at least I could walk back to the farm house and I wouldn’t freeze.

I hit a deep pot hole and I was stuck. I pressed the gas and rocked back and forth for about 10 minutes then I was free. But I had used a lot of gas that I didn’t have to spare.

I drove another mile and then my worse fear came true, no gas! I sat there trying to decide to either walk back to farm house or continued, on another mile or two and hopefully a gas station would be open.

I decided to walk back to the farm house; I could get warm and maybe get some gas there. I locked the car and started walking. By now the snow was really coming down and my feet were freezing.

It was an old rundown farm house with a red pickup truck in front yard and the house had broken windows with newspaper stuffed in them. The kitchen and front room lights were on. I knocked on the door and a middle aged dirty rangy old man came to the door, holding a shotgun.

What do you want? He said glaring at me. Don’t want to buy nothing. Now get!

I ran out of gasoline about a mile from here. Thought you might have some extra and I will gladly pay for it.

Ain’t got none! Now get, before I turn my dogs on you.

Look, I’m freezing, and I have walked a mile. The least you could do is invite me in and we could talk. Please?

He looked at me with a scowl look on his face. Just until you get warm and then you can leave. I’m keeping my gun on you.

Thank you, I replied. We walked into the living room sit down and he threw another log on the fire, while holding the gun on me.

I went to the open fire to warm my hands and feet. He never took his eyes off me.

"Want something to eat? He asked.

No, I said but I will take some coffee if you don’t mind.

Don’t have none. You want to buy a glass of whiskey?

No thank you, but I would like to buy some gasoline for my car if you have a gallon or two.

Don’t have any. He said.

We both walked to the front door and went out on the porch. The snow was coming down at a fast rate, with at least four inches already covering the ground.

I looked at him and said. You didn’t tell me your name, mine is Ed Robinson. What did you say your name was?

Didn’t say. Then he stepped off the porch and stuck a stick in the snow. five inches, looking at the stick.

Mister, whatever your name is. I can’t make it to my car in this snow, even if I could, I don’t have a warm coat or a blanket, and I would freeze to death. You don’t want that on your conscious, do you? I said, looking in his face.

Don’t matter to me, I didn’t ask you to come here.

I will pay twenty-five dollars for a room and breakfast, just for tonight.

Fifty dollars, and another ten for two, gallon of gas, and I will take you to your car tomorrow morning, and don’t come back, he said grinning at me.

I will pay it, but there goes the money that I made off my wood carving. When I get warm, can I go to bed? I’m worn out.

I warmed my hands, looked at him, and said, I was ready for bed.

He picked up an oil lamp and we went up some steps that led upstairs and into a tiny room with a single bed. The room was musty and hadn’t been used for a long time. The blankets smelled of urine, but at least there were two of them, for the room had no heat. There was one small window with newspapers stuck in the broken glass. I looked outside and saw his barn and the fenced pasture.

Breakfast at six a.m. coffee and eggs. He said.

Thank you, that will be fine. I said pulling the covers from the bed.

He left the lamp and went back downstairs, and I heard him throw another log on the fire. I looked at the bed and took the smelly blanket off and kept my clothes on. Took off my jacket and put it over the pillow and got into bed and wondered what tomorrow would be like. This would be the last place I would want to be snowed in, and then I fell asleep.

I was awakening by a scream, a woman’s voice. I looked at my watch and it was one a.m. I set up in bed and listen and then I heard it again, only this time in a muffled voice. I went to the door and listening for ten minutes, and I heard no other sounds. I went back to bed wondering if I had been dreaming but did not go back to sleep. I lay there half asleep, until six a.m. then got up and put my shoes on and went down stairs.

Mr. what’s his name was fixing some eggs and bacon. Looking at me said, coffee was on the stove, and help myself.

I drank my coffee and asked him, If he heard anything last night?

Like a woman screaming? he asked

Yes, I said. Like a woman was crying.

He laughed, and said that he heard the sound, and that it was a mountain lion crying. It sounds just like a woman, he said. I have been trying to kill it for years, but he’s smart. Killed one of my dogs last summer, he only comes around at dark.

After eating some eggs, I went to the door and looked outside. It had stopped snowing.

He Looked at me and said. Soon as we finished eating, I will get the gas and my tractor and take you to your car. The snow plow will have it cleared by then. I will drop you off, and then I’m headed to Knoxville. Need to get some parts for my tractor.

The eggs weren’t bad, and I needed that coffee. I paid him the money for the room and the gas, then we went to his tractor. The snow appeared to be five or six inches, and the sky was clearing up.

After getting to my car, he asked. Think you can make it to the highway now? he said.

Yes, with the gas and it has quit snowing, I think I can make it okay.

But I had not forgotten about that crying, and still I thought about