Greensburg Memories: Life on Henry Street in the 1940’s and 1950’s

By Leo Wright

I am a Green County, Kentucky native, born on Locust Grove Road in 1936. Our family, (mom, dad and I) moved to Greensburg in 1942 and established a residence on Henry Street where I resided until 1954 when I graduated from high school and left to go to college.
The stories relayed here represent the memories and events related to my youth on Henry Street. All events are true and derived from memory supplemented by facts as recorded in various documents.
I write them to preserve the memories of my youth, pass them on to my family and others so they may reminisce of a quality of life gone by and provide for those who did not live in the era a history of the times and conditions of Henry Street during the 1950’s. In retrospect, I do wish those times were still existent.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Feb 5, 2021
• ISBN: 9781665511988

Leo Wright

An experienced military and business professional who spent his youth in a small Kentucky town and is now perserving those memories for future generations. He has traveled the globe in execution of his responsibilites. He attained the military rank of Colonel in the U. S. Army through active duty and reserve performances. His involvement in finance and organizational processes at the corporate level has provided him the basis for writing the history of the 1940's and 1950's.

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© 2021 Leo Wright. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or

transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse  02/04/2021

ISBN: 978-1-6655-1199-5 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-6655-1198-8 (e)

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or

links contained in this book may have changed since publication and

may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those

of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher,

and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

DEDICATIONS

To my lovely wife Joyce, who

left us much too soon.

To my children, Angela and Susan, for

whom I can express no greater love than

what I have for these beautiful ladies.

To my grandchildren, Woody, Cory and Casey.

Catch the Wind and Soar

To my great grandchildren, Mya and Trey,

"I hope my dairies will help you understand

my short time with you as you grow".

THANKS

To Lanny Tucker, a talented writer and friend

who helped guide me through this process.

To Laura Johnson, the greatest

researcher of all time. I could never have

completed this without your help.

NOTE TO MY READERS

This being my first attempt at developing a manuscript, I just wanted to preserve the memories of people and a time of my youth. The order in which this is presented except for the initial stories of (1) Birth And (2) Start of Life & School on Henry Street are random as they were developed just as the thought and subject matter became apparent to me.

You may find some overlapping of events in various stories, so forgiveness is asked for here.

I have more stories to write and hopefully I can get them published sooner rather than later.

ENJOY!!

CONTENTS

DEDICATIONS

THANKS

Greenburg Memories

Birth

Start Of Life & School On Henry Street

Riding With Dad On The Rural Mail Route

Baseball- Catching A Major League Pitcher

Baseball - Going To Owensboro, Ky

Mr. Buckles

Hobson Cemetery

The Railway Express Agency

Greensburg’s Most Interesting Corners And The Footbridge

The American Needlecraft, Inc.

The L&N Depot

The Foot Bridge

Buddy

Paw-Paw

Heading Methodist Youth Group

My Loving Parents Part 1 Dad - A. T. Tom Wright

My Loving Parents Part 2 Mom - Morton Earl Blakeman Wright

Senior School Trip

Basketball Goal And Ball

Croquet Court & New Bicycle

Boyhood Dream

Mr. Charles Bloyd

Thief/Liar

Barber Shops & Distinctive Owners

The Most Admired Men Of My Youth

Working For Mr. Gabe Taylor

My First Crap Game - The Learning Process

High Banks – Swimming & Camping

Cattle Cane

Omar Lyle Shuffett-Veteran

Murder At High Noon

Baseball & Fall Over Cliff

My First Trip To Fort Knox

Dad - Piglets – Policeman - And Bear

Lost

Hard Young Deaths

Next Door Neighbors

Mr. Tom Marcum

My Winter Coat

Basketball And Green Hair

Weighing Tobacco

Mr. John Allen Blades And Mr. Bill Mcclintock

Bennie And Mike

The Old Out House And The Airedale Dog

Job At Houchens Market

BOOK 1

Greenburg Memories

Life on Henry Street

BIRTH

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The community consisted of a grocery store, a few houses, the sulfur springs and a hotel that that sat on a hill overlooking the countryside and served as a popular vacation spot for excellent food and great accommodations. The main attraction was the hotel, which was developed from upgrading Mr. Neal’s home. The hotel had a large front porch stretching the length of the building and was stocked with white rocking chairs. Great food, sulfur baths and drinking water had filled the hotel to capacity on this particular Sunday in August. This path from the hotel to the drinking site has one walking a short distance down the hill and walks onto a convenient swinging bridge over Little Barren River which was about fourteen feet wide with rope sidings topped off with a wooden railing on top. This route would take one to a fountain for drinking the sulfur water.

On this day, at approximately two pm the swinging bridge, loaded with frolicking folks enjoying a beautiful summer afternoon broke from the moorings and came crashing down into the creek. No one was seriously injured, just a few bruises and egos along with a soaking of one’s Sunday best clothing. I’m told that there was a lot of laughter as most considered it an exciting event on a hot summer Sunday afternoon. After recovering from the shallow water everyone who had fallen made their way back to the hotel for a quick change of clothing and continued celebration.

What significance does this have, you say? Well, it just so happens that when traveling about ten miles away in Green County (neighboring county) about two miles off Highway 68, in the Thurlow, Ky community then down Locust Grove Road for 1000 feet past moms old home place and perched on a grassy knoll on the right side of the road was a small four room farm house on a grassy knoll was where my dear sweet mother was about to give birth to her first and only child. The physical surroundings of a birthing at that time was rudimentary at least. No anesthetic, no air conditioning, no attending profession nurses, no hospital bed, no birthing suites, no attending hospital aides and on and on. Rather than go further about this process of which my knowledge is obviously quite limited, I’ll just move on.

Conversations in later years confirmed that at the time of the bridge falling, Mrs. Morton Earle Blakeman Wright was giving birth to her one and only son, one Arvin Leo Wright, ME. The delivery was made by Dr. Simmons a likable and most respected practicing physician in the community. The front yard of the small home was crowded with, of course, my father Arvin Thompson (A.T.-Tom) Wright and other family such as my uncles Lyman Blakeman and Edwin Blakeman, Earl Wright and Fred Wright. According to my birth certificate my exact time of birth was 1:15 pm and weighing in at 7 lbs. 6 ounces. When discussing my first few months and years with family members I was very pleased to hear that I was very much loved and was well attended to. Mothers female friends obviously would talk about how cute I was and what a good baby while dad would be somewhat proud in discussing me to all his co-workers and family. As most farm children in those I had few but sufficient baby clothes. I was breast fed and was the common practice. My parents obviously took me everywhere with them. I did not spend a night away from them until I was some three years old and then only one night with Grandpa and Grandma Wright. According to mother, three of the most notable occurrences in my young life stand out from the others.

First Occurrence: When I was about six months old, mother was at the old home place just up the road from our house visiting. This was the home of Leo and Maderia Blakeman, mother’s parents and my grandparents. Along with her that day was my aunt Francis Blakeman, wife of mother’s brother Edwin and the house maid for my grandparents by the name of Aunt Millie Haskins as well as a few other neighbors. My Mom and Aunt Francis were two young women who were related and were of course good friends. I might add here that Ma and Pa Blakeman were already deceased both dying at a very early age. From the stories I have heard over the years, I missed a great deal in life by not knowing them. As the story was relayed by my mother, she had just gotten me to sleep and placed me in the center of the double bed in one of the downstairs bedrooms. Retreating to the kitchen for some cold iced tea and conversation, the ladies talked and laughed for a few minutes. Unbeknown to my mother, Aunt Francis had quietly slipped away from the group, made her way to the bedroom where I was sleeping, picked me up and hid me behind a rocking chair in the corner and returned to the group for more conversation. Shortly, mother declared, I’ve got to check on Leo. With that she returned to the bedroom where she had placed me on the bed only to immediately realize I was no longer there. She was frantic to say the least. Aunt Francis then came into the room with a sheepish grin on her face and mother, in a not to pleasant voice asked, What have you done with my baby? Getting no answer and in a much louder and more determined voice she again demanded, WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH MY BABY? Aunt Francis confessed that she had hidden me behind the rocking chair. Mother then retrieved me from behind the rocking chair and all was well, I think. I know mother was totally devastated and angry. However, after finding me unharmed, all was forgiven as a practical joke. In later years, as an adult, both mom and Aunt Francis would tell me of the occurrence and laugh at the whole incident. Time and love for your sister-in-law forgives a lot!!!

Second Occurrence: The old farmhouse where my mother and her two brothers were raised was quite old, having been constructed sometime in the early 1900’s. It was of wood construction with stone fireplaces. As relayed to me in later years, the old home was quite drafty, hard to heat with open windows to obtain cool air in the summer. One must remember that this was a standalone farmhouse some two miles from the nearest neighbor (mom’s uncle Lallie Blakeman lived who was just down the road). Crops were planted and harvested very close to the house. Outdoor critters such as snakes, frogs, foxes, field mice, various bugs, etc. were quite prevalent.

My mother was at the house in the afternoon of one early fall of 1936 canning some late harvested garden vegetables. She brought me along and while she was working in the kitchen would lay me on a pallet in the floor nearby. She has related to me that obviously under a watchful eye and I would make all the sounds that babies make and would eventually go to sleep. A short time later I went to sleep and she moved me from the floor to the nearest bedroom which was next door to the kitchen, where she laid me in the middle of the bed and placed pillows and rolled up quilts around me to keep me from turning over and possibly falling off the bed. As she continued her canning she would periodically look in on me obviously being a new mother and concerned about the welfare of her only child.

Going to checking on me for the third time, she exited the kitchen and entered the bedroom. Immediately when glancing at the bed, she erupted in louds screams and was shaking in almost an uncontrollable manner. The reason for her elevated concern was that lying next to me on the bed was a huge black snake coiled and moving its head but not its body. Recovering quickly from her fright, she ran to the bed retrieved me. The snake, disturbed by the commotion quickly slithered off the bed, across the floor and into a crack in the wall next to the fireplace. She quit canning and went back to our little on the grassy knoll.

When dad came home from work shortly thereafter, she relayed the story to him. He went to the old farm house and looked quite hard for the snake and others that might be found. He found nothing. Crisis resolved I guess, as no snake was never seen again, but mother related she never let me out of her sight when she would go to her old home place. Her and dad both thought that the snake had just entered from the outside seeking a cool place to sleep. They were concerned at the time that snake eggs might be in or near the house but as I said no black snake was ever seen again.

Third Occurance: Since my birth a few short months ago, mom and dad had pretty well been restricted to the farmhouse. Soon after, they decided that it was time to make their first trip with the new baby. One Sunday in mid-September they went to church at Mount Lebanon Methodist church when they were both members and were their families had been members and had attended regularly throughout the years. Mount Lebanon church was at that time and still is pretty much a focal point in the Thurlow community. Wanting to be sure I was clothed in the best manner possible, mom dressed me with all new stuff. I’m told the attire of the day was diaper, shoes, socks, dress (yes, a dress) and hat. The story goes that while getting me dressed I began to fret and cry and the more mom and dad tried to calm me down, it was to no avail. Well, now it’s time to go to church and away we go, me still fretting and my parents were obviously not pleased with my demeanor made the short drive to the church. Upon arrival, we exited the vehicle and people began to gather round to see the new baby. I was not helping the introductions by still continuing to fret and cry. My mother was at her wits end and somewhat embarrassed that her new baby was not cooperating with the new introductions. The weather in early September was rather warm, hot in fact I’m told. Being outside with everyone carrying on a conversation with mom, needless to say, my mom became a little bewildered and remarked to dad, I just don’t know how to stop him from crying. Mom says at this point one of the ladies told mom, Morton, you have too many clothes on that child. I guess she must have realized that wanting to make a good impression and wanting me to be presentable she had put too many clothes on me. She immediately excused herself, got back In the car and proceeded to remove clothing, hat, shoes, socks, dress, etc., and lo and behold I was asleep in less than two minutes. Mom stated to me in later years that she was very relieved to have seen me go to sleep and vowed to never overdress me again. She was the best mom ever.

While living in that farmhouse I grew to the age of five. I played by myself as there was a scarcity of other children. In other words, to my knowledge, I was the only small child on Locust Grove Road. One thing I can distinctly remember is the cold water spring located near the house. The spring was located to the left of our house and down over a small bank. Mom and dad would take buckets for the water and go down the incline on some wooden steps built into the bank. Cold water emerged from an underground spring around the roots of a huge oak tree. Dad built a wooden box and placed it at the mouth of the spring to be used as a makeshift refrigerator to store the milk, butter and vegetables in the cold water. As previously noted, there was no air conditioning in our house in the 1936. In addition to using the spring for a cooling space for food, it was used also for fresh drinking water and for doing the laundry. I would accompany mom or dad down the incline to the well as they would retrieve a bucket(s) of water to be used for whatever use was needed at the present time. I would get to wade in the shallow cold water downstream from the spring. I remember my dad always being with me and in later years when asking him about the spring, he said was always concerned about the possibility of a snake as a lot of big shade trees near the making the ground cool to lie on and fresh water from the spring which makes an ideal place for replies to congregate. I don’t ever remember seeing any snakes or other animals at the spring.

So was the country life in the late 1930’s. I can definitely remember living there and observing the normal activities of a household. Mother stayed home to care for me, cook and clean as most housewives did. Dad worked on a threshing machine crew going from farm to farm and threshing wheat. Threshing is a process where the grain is separated from the wheat leaving the stalk which ultimately becomes straw which is used for cattle bedding. The grain is ultimately used in the production of products such as bread and cereal. He operated the tractor which in that time period did not have rubber tires but rather steel lugs on the wheels and made driving on hard surface roads very uncomfortable.

On Locust Grove road further down from out home was a rather steep hill which was mostly ledges of rock and very little dirt. I have viewed this very hill in prior years and it was a task to keep one’s vehicle or tractor on an even keel. My father and the threshing crew has been threshing crew had just gotten thru with threshing add Uncle Lallie’s at (mothers uncle) farm and were exiting the farm to go to another site.

As I said before, it was dad’s job to drive the tractor which would pull the thresher. Coming up this monster of a hill was a much harder task than going down it. Dad had driven that tractor up and down that hill many times. This particular day things seemed not to go well. In the middle of the hill was a large ledge of rock that always created a problem and careful maneuvering to clear the ledge. You will remember that the wheels of most tractors in those days was of a steel wheel construction with flat lugs protruding to the outside functioning as device for traction. Although rubber tractor tires was being used sparingly, this particular tractor was not equipped as such.

As dad proceeded to drive the tractor and attached threshing machine up over the big rock ledge, the tractor lurched and threw dad viciously sideways. He managed to hold the steering wheel to keep the front tires straight thereby preventing the tractor from overturning. In the process of hanging on, he severely injured his back. The tractor immediately stopped and the other workers came to his aid. He was taken off the tractor and laid down on a grassy bank nearby. He was in great pain and after a while was able to stand but not walk very steadily. He was taken home and put to bed. Dr. Simmons was called and it was determined that dad had somehow injured his back and was probably muscular. (X-rays and test several years later would prove this to injury was far more serious than originally thought.) He gradually recovered and went back to work without fanfare as do most great dads who have a family responsibly.

At about the age of four or five I distinctly remember going with Dad in our truck to Hodgenville, Kentucky for a load of bagged cattle feed. The manager of the mill was talking with dad as I stood by listening. After loading and dad having paid for the feed the manager looked at me and said, Hold on just a minute, I have something for you. He climbed on top of large pile of bagged feed and picked up a small toy truck and gave it to me. I was very pleased to say the least to get the gift. Upon returning home, I played with that truck under a small tree in our front yard all summer. Making holes and roads around the small tree was pretty much my entertainment. The tree did not withstand all the digging and in later years died.

At the age of five we moved from out little house on the grassy knoll on Locust Grove Road to a somewhat larger house near town (Greensburg) The house sat back from the road and was located on property between the intersection of Highway 68 and Highway 61 which would lead one to the city of Columbia, Kentucky. It was a duplex and I don’t remember who lived on the other side. I have memories there of mom and dad taking me across the highway to the home who had boys in their teens and I could play with them or rather they put up with me. I would get to eat with them with I thought was a great treat. It was here with my neighboring friends that I got my first motorcycle ride. One of dad’s friends who had a motorcycle was visiting us one day and after some adult conversation, he asked dad if it would be okay to give me a ride on the motorcycle. Dad agreed and me not knowing anything about it, anxiously agreed. I do remember getting on the motorcycle and him seating me behind him and telling me to hold tightly around his waist. Of this is did, very tightly I can assure you. We went down highway 61 toward Columbia about 2 miles, past the rock quarry and across Pitman Creek, turned around and came back. I remember the ride as not being too fast and was rather enjoyable. In thinking back, there was no such thing as a helmet. Just let the breeze blow through your hair.

These experiences pretty sum up my Early Years. We lived there about a year prior to moving to Henry Street in Greensburg, where the rest of this story really begins.

START OF LIFE & SCHOOL

ON HENRY STREET

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Henry Street is one of four main streets in the residential section of Greensburg, Kentucky. The other streets are Columbia Avenue, Durham Street and Hodgenville Avenue.

Henry Street was originally named Main Cross Street, got its name when the Henry’s Addition subdivision was created. The street is located on the south side of the addition. Jeff Henry and wife, Josie L., sold the land to developers for $8,000. The land as then marked out in lots and sold by the Dixie Reality Co. beginning in 1921.

For me, a six year old and the son of A. T. and Morton Wright, this story began on Henry Street in August 1942 when mom, dad and I moved from our home in rural Green County, Kentucky to Henry Street in the city of Greensburg so I could begin my education process by enrolling in the first grade at the Greensburg Elementary School.

Our home was the last house on the upper end of Henry Street. It was a modest five room house with a front porch and within walking distance of school.

Henry Street was composed of seventeen house, three vacant lots, one cemetery and one sewing factory.

Henry Street ran from Depot Street at one end of the residential section of town to the uppermost top of the hill where the street turned into a curve which changed the name to McCullum Avenue. We lived here for two years where I could walk to school as did all others kids on our street. This was a community in the 1940’s where crime was practically non-existent, neighbors visited each other, sat on the front porch, and lived a life filled with peace and serenity. School days ran from 8am to 3pm. As I remember it, life was good, speaking as a six year old just beginning to venture into the world and entered into the first grade at the Greensburg Grade School on Monday, September 7, 1942.

The school was located only a couple of blocks away on Durham street. Our first grade classroom was on the north side of the first floor of the school. Our teacher was Miss May Simpson and I do believe, as do many other people and former students, she was the most compassionate, loving and caring lady and teacher I have encountered in grade school. No matter what your problem or concern was she would always manage to find the time to listen, understand and then by some magic, only that she possessed, all your worries would be blown away by Miss Mae Simpson. Her teaching techniques were such that you wanted to learn and she made it easy for you to do so. She would only be replaced in my high school years by Mrs. Fanola DeSpain, bookkeeping and typing teacher who was responsible for me going to college.

The configuration of the first-grade classroom was startling different from those of today, where electronics and computers