Fishing

by
Fred McCaleb

Picture above of Bettie Cline McCaleb left, wife of Fred McCaleb (middle) and Ruth Roby Moore (right). Ruth's husband was Arvil Moore and she was a sister of Louie Roby who was the first husband of Verla McCaleb. This picture was taken on the Bigbee Belle on a trip on the Tombigbee river at Columbus, Ms. 1988

Atomic Bomb Dropped on Japan August 1945

by
Fred McCaleb

I was on Saipan with the 428th Army Ordinance Tire Repair Company for a time
during the last months of 1944 and in 1945 until WWII ended. The following are
some of my recollections concerning the trip to Saipan, a description of the
devastation seen on Saipan, etc.
We boarded the Dutch motorship SS Japara in Honolulus, Oahu, Hawaii for the trip
to Saipan. It was a grey ship and took a left front position in a seven ship
convoy. The convoy was escorted by three destroyer escorts that were running
about twice the speed of the troopships. The escorts were checking for
submarines to the right, left and in front of us as we proceeded. We were given
practice abandon ship lessons ever so often. That way one would never know if a
practice or the real thing. The convoy was halted at Eniwetock Atoll for about
ten days until conditions got better in the waters toward Saipan. At Eniwetok
we saw the remains of some Japanese ships that had been bombed and were still
sticking partly out of the water. At Eniwetok most of us slept on the top deck
on our blankets with life jackets as the pillow. Here the stars seemed to rock
in unison with the rocking ship. One fellow on our ship got deathly sick while
there and had to be taken away to a hospital. I hope he lived. The sun beamed
down very hot in the daytime. Finally we left. Our ship had a short wave radio
that was hooked to the loudspeaker system and that tuned to Tokyo Rose. She
would play American swing music and tell the married soldiers that their wives
were right now out with a 4F. That didn't bother me since I was unmarried at
the time. But then she said that there was a 7 ship convoy proceeding toward
Saipan that wouldn't make it. That sort of shook things up. The destroyer
escorts increased their activity. We started changing direction every few
minutes, and the ships in the convoy closed in next to each other when night
came. We came through without any ship getting torpedoed and arrived safely in
Saipan. We heard by the grapevine that the Japara was sunk on the next trip.
Whether that was true I will never know.
On arriving on Saipan we were treated to a good meal by Japanese prisoners of
war as KPs. I found one could speak English and that he was from Utah,U.S.A.
Saipan had been almost totally wiped out. There were a few house foundations
and a bronze statue to the man that had introduced sugar growing to Saipan.
These were in what had been the city of Garapan. The statue had many bullet
scars. In the city of Charan Kanoa there was left the twisted steel framework
of a sugar refinery. Everything else was gone. The U.S. bombers and naval
ships, the marines and infantry had done their job. An estimated 15,000
Japanese soldiers had been pushed to one end of the island where there was
nothing left but a cliff and ended their life by jumping into the Pacific
ocean. A few Japanese and natives had surrendered, and they were in a
concentration camp surrounded by barb wire and with no bathing facilities.

After being on Saipan a week or two, I and three other members of the 428th
company were sent to Guam to help the Navy Seabees set up a tire repair shop.
The B-24 bombers were bombing Iwo Jima at that time. Our tent was at the end of
a naval pursuit plane field. The planes came over about 20 feet above our tent
while we were trying to sleep at night. While we were on Guam we saw the
marines and infantry leave in troopships to take Iwo Jima. About two weeks
later we saw a big white ship with a red cross on its side come back with the
wounded and the dying. They were the lucky ones. The rest had been killed. We
also had a bombing scare while on Guam. In the bombing scare we turned all
lights out, shut down the shop, and waited for the Japanese to attack. It
turned out to be one of our own bombers that had been to Iwo Jima and his IFF
wasn't working. The airports were all shut down and he had to land on the
beach. One Seabee operating a bulldozer was killed while we were on Guam. We
got a weapons carrier and toured the island while there. Some of the places we
went were dangerous spots. My best elementary school friend, Marvin Johnson,
was killed while helping take Guam. on the airplane trip to Guam the plane was
overloaded when it left Tinian and took a mile or two to get off the ground,
and when about halfway over near the Japanese island of Rota one engine quit.
The wing immediately slanted down and I thought to myself,"This is the last of
me." Fortunately the pilot got the engine going again, and all was well.
On arriving back on Saipan to our tire repair company a month later, the
landscape had completely changed. Where two cities had been were now row on row
of warehouses. Super roads, filled with thousands of army vehicles, had been
built. There were floating piers for ship landings built with 8 foot hollow
cubes of steel. The B-29 field had been constructed in record time. A mountain
had been removed, and the end of the runway was a 200 feet drop into the
Pacific ocean. Our tire shop occupied four of the wirehouses. An underground
telephone system had been installed. I was told the Japanese dead were pushed
into the same ditch as the cables. The signs of the horrors of war were gone.
While on Saipan I visited the cliff on the Pacific ocean where thousands of
Japanese soldiers had jumped into the water when our marines and infantry
pushed them to that end of the island. I visited the marine, infantry, and
Japanese cemeteries. There were ten or fifteen thousand dead soldiers in each.
I was told there were only rounded markers in the Japanese cemetery. War had
been devastating and without mercy for the participants. The Japanese, by
bombimg Pear Harbor, had started something they couldn't handle. One of my tent
mate's hobbies was he was going back into the forest and collecting gold teeth
fillings from Japanese skeletons. He also supplied us with bananas. I didn't
take up his gold teeth collecting hobby, but ate the bananas.
When the B-29 field was finished on Saipan, one hundred and fifty B-29's left
for Japan about every third day. There was also a B-29 field on Tinian, and 150
planes left there at the same time interval. The trips were staggered so that
Japan got an almost continual bombing. Before leaving each plane loaded up with
seven tons of bombs and 5000 gallons of aviation gasoline. There was a fuel
pipeline from the piers to the B-29 field. There was always an oil tanker ship
parked at the pier. When it left, another took its place. Our shop was near the
piers. Japanese prisoners driving military trucks loaded with bombs passed by
every few minutes. They were being forced to help finish off their homeland.
On the side of the hill where we had our living qu arters was an outdoor movie.
Here I saw many of the Hollywood movies that were produced in that era. While
on Guam I saw an outdoor movie about the Pacific war. The B-17s were returning
from a raid in the movie and at the same time planes were returning from a raid
on Iwo Jima. There were bombers on the screen and bombers overhead at the same
time. I thought that was unusual. Several of the B-29 crew members came to the
movie on Saipan where I attended. They used to tell us how much of Tokyo had
been bombed and burned during the last raids. The B-29 crews lost hardly any of
the planes in combat, but operational difficulties claimed about five percent.
The trip to Japan was 18 hours long. It was boring, and fuel was very low when
they arrived back. Every plane that didn't make it back was replaced by another
one that flew in from Hawaii. The field always had its quota of planes. The navy
had flying boats to pick up downed crews.
About the first of August 1945 a soldier from Tinian visited his friend in our
company. Tinian was across the strait about 6 miles from where we were on
Saipan. He said, "Boy, they have a big bomb over on Tinian they are going to
drop on Japan." I thought it must be a TNT bomb about twenty feet long. About
a week after his visit the first atomic bomb in history was dropped. Hiroshima,
Japan was gone. About three days later another was dropped on Nagasaki and
another city was gone. After that the Japanese started talking peace. The
Emperor made a speech telling the troops to surrender. His speech was
rebroadcast every day and night from the military radio station on Saipan. The
war was over. Nearly everyone on the island celebrated by firing off what
ammunition they had. I instantly realized the danger of all this. I put on my
helmet and walked up and down the center aisle of the prefab barracks we had by
this time. Three bullets fell through the roof of the barracks. I never knew if
anyone got killed celebrating victory. Anyhow I had been shook up.
Before the atomic bomb was dropped, we had been given instructions on the
upcoming invasion of Japan. Every technical man was going to have to go as a
soldier. Winter clothing was discussed. There was an estimate that at least
600,000 soldiers would be killed. At least that many Japs would also be killed.
Truman's decision to drop the bomb had saved more lives than than the many that
were lost in the bombed out cities.
By my being on Saipan in August,1945 I had been near one of the big events of
all time. I think Truman made the right decision. I reached home Christmas day
1945 after leaving Saipan one month earlier. It took 17 days on a troopship to
reach the west coast, about 4 or 5 days to cross the southern U.S. and a few
days in army centers. When we reached the west coast, one soldier that had been
with MCArthur in retaking the Phillipines, put his hand up and said, "I have
returned." What a joy to be a civilian. Quite a few thousand didn't come back.
by Fred McCaleb

Diary of Nick Morris

by

Fred McCaleb

The Diary Of Nick Morris
of NE Fayette County, Alabama
1891-1930

This diary was written mostly one line for each day and a page for each month.
He put down what he did, where he had been, and who he had visited or who had
visited him. He even said when it had rained or when it was dry. Who preached
at the churches, what churches and schools were in the community.How many rails
he could split in a day, and how many loads of manure he could haul.
He seemed to be a very intelligent man for his day. His mother was Sally
Hackworth, the daughter of Nickodemus Hackworth. His mother was an early
teacher.Went to a school for women in Tuscaloosa that may have been part of the
University of Alabama, but no records of that school can be found now. He could
make or repair a wagon or buggy, or shoe a horse. He was a farmer, a carpenter,
a tax assessor and collector for the community. He was a local politician, and
associated and wrote letters to the high and mighty such as the Bankheads. He
helped with the bookwork in some of the local stores. He was a store clerk at
times, but didn't have that as his regular job. He was mostly a farmer.
He mentioned experimenting with a water telegraph for communication between
himself and William Erwin, a long time friend and Blacksmith. He cut and hauled
the poles, strung the wire. I never could tell by his notes whether he ever got
his telegraph working or not. He did say he made a drum with a crank on it at
the Erwin shop. Also a water tank which must have been some kind of battery.
Later he was stringing the first telephone lines for the community. He was the
repairman and fixer for the old crank em up short and long, telephone system.
The community begin to know what everybody else was doing. He also installed
the telephones, and replaced the batteries.
He faithfully wrote his Ma(Sally Morris) until her death. Later he wrote
regularly to his daughters and sons and in laws that had moved away from the
community.
My grandpa's brother Bird McCaleb seemed to have been his best neighbor and
friend. Billy Erwin was another big friend.
The first years of the diary is a good lesson on how busy the old farmers were
from 1890-1920.About what it took to make a living back then. He was very busy.
I would have hated to have kept up with him.
The rains seemed to have been about as uncertain and unpredictable then as they
are now.
When he became old and unhealthy in the 1920s he had to depend more on getting
a neighbor to help out with the hard work.
Nick appeared to have been a Civil War Veteran. He mentioned attending at least
4 conventions, two of them in Arkansas.
He mentioned seeing an airplane fly over in early twenties. Also riding to
church with his son Phil in a Ford touring car. He painted a truck cab. The
modern age was upon him and his life was at its end.His diary stoped before the
end of April 1930. Last entry said he had been to Jasper Hospital 2 weeks for
postate gland trouble and that's all he ever wrote. What a man.
Diary copied for posterity by Fred McCaleb & Patsy Box Johnson.

Christmas Letter 2006

by
Fred McCaleb

Hello everyone,

I will try to write a Christmas letter on my 91 first year of age. That is a
little hard to do but maybe I can manage to recollect a few of the times I have
gone through. In the early 1920s I was attending a one teacher school in a
dilapidated building and walking about ¾ of a mile to school. Country people
had to walk or ride in a mule drawn wagon. People in Fayette had maybe 3 or 4
wooden wheel t model Fords. A solid wheel truck or two. The only fast
transportation was on the train. You could catch a train in Fayette today and
be in Washington, D.C. tomarrow. T model Fords had to be pulled out of mud
holes on the country roads if it rained.

Things had improved a little by the late 1920s. We had moved to Miss. And was 3
miles from school where we walked over new graveled hiway 45. My brother and I
practiced with sling shots shooting glass insulators off the phone lines beside
the road. Once in a while Mr. Temple would pick us up in his enclosesd t Model
Ford if it were raining. Mrs. Temple was the sister of Senator Rankin of Miss.
At that time. She said the only time Mr Temple used his head was for a hat
rack. Us McCaleb children picked strawberries for them in the spring for 3c per
quart. Our house got on fire in kitchen one time and moma sent me up on roof
with a bucket of water to put it out. It worked. I rode in my first a model
Ford car in Miss at 50 miles an hour. I had already ridden in a model t ford
and an early ford truck in Al before then.

In all these early years we had no medicine except castor oil and
turpentine,and quinine for malarial, no penicillin, no sulfa drugs, no radio,
no intertainment except home made, no motorizedTransportation. If one got sick
with a bad disease he was a goner. My grandfather Hallmark got sick with
pneumonia and died with my uncle Arthur trying to give him drugs that were no
good. My little brother Thomas Raburn died with membrane croup in 1927. My
mothers nursing sister in Fla died same year. It was a terrible blow to my
mother. I can recollect her washing me for Raburn’s funeral nervous and
crying. About 1930 my father had a spell with malarial chills and nearly dying.
I had a small spell also and dreamed I was falling in a well and fell out of bed
on the floor. About that time my father decided he had had enough of Miss and
decided to move back to Al. We moved back in Arthur’s t model truck and dad
drove the team of mules back in wagon in 2 days.

Quinine was the malarial medicine back then and I took some of it in the first
year back.
Alabama had gone to Jr Hi School and home made t model buses and I didn’t have
to walk to school. I went through rest of 7th grade and 8th and 9th there. I
guess I learned a little about taking care of my health there. Then on to
Winfield Hi mostly in Bud May’s home made bus. Came out about 3rd in grade
level at Winfield. Had some good teachers, Miss Eigan history, Miss Guin
English, Mr Blanton biology, Mr Hunt agriculture and the principal taught
chemistry. Had to stay with my McCaleb grandparents one year and catch the bus
week days from there. Came home week ends on a Winfield bus and walked about 5
miles from there. My grandmother lived in flat woods section. She said never
let schoolteachers tell you the world was round, It was flat according to her
notion.
I never could quite believe that, but I didn’t argue. I took typing at
Winfield and was always glad I did that. Traded a young cow for a 2nd handed
typewriter which I still have. I learned a good bit about old times from
grandparents. The last year at Winfield the school was out, on account of
finances, for last 6 weeks. I transferred to Fayette and graduated from there
in a trying 6 weeks. I guess I spent the shortest time there for any one ever
to graduate. I only recall 3 people. They passed the sales tax the next year
and said the schools would never be without money again. They have increased it
several times since then and are still out of money most of the time.

From the time I graduated I finally got a little start in life. Tried to join
army and navy and they said I couldn’t see. I sassed them and they told me to
get the hell out of the recruiting station. I applied 3 times at Berry College
and finally go accepted there. Graduated from there and got job a Tennessee
Coal Iron & Railroad Co. The biggest manufacturer of steel in the world for
about $90 per month with some overtime. They were rolling steel at ½ mile a
minute and plating rolled sheets with tin. I was analyzing tinned plates for
amount of tin. A phd was running hardness and softness tests for $125 per
month. Said he had worked at a filling station before that. The sound in the
place was nearly like roar of thunder. You could get killed real easy. I caught
the bus home on time off. My parents thought I was doing real well. I shared
some of the money with them. They were developing sulfa drugs and penicillin at
this time. My brother informed me that I could make $150 per mo at Radford
Ordnance Works. I went up there and got hired immediately. This was dangerous
if you didn’t make every move correctly. It was common to see a tin bldg.
that had blown up overnight. I analyzed nitro glycerin part of the time. It
reacted fast part of the time but none ever blew. I bought my first car at
Radford, an a model Ford. My room mate went with me to show me how to drive. I
drove from then on. Drove it to Al and back two or 3 times. I was going to give
it to my dad when the army finally drafted me after a tnt plant blew up where I
was working and was home in bed when it blew. My dad started to Fayette with it
and wrecked as soon as he hit the road. Busted 2 or 3 doz eggs and tore up one
of front wheels. I fixed the car and sold it. Wished I had it when back from
army.

I got back from the army in Dec 1944. They hadn’t started making new cars yet.
Helped my dad build a 2 car garage in Jan and Feb. They were making advances in
black & white tv. Advances were made in atomic energy in the 30s and while I
was in army. 3 atomic bombs had been dropped on Japan. Principles of computing
were being studied. We owned our first black & white tv in early 50s. The
transistor hadn’t been developed.
Tubes made them work and they were large. The transistor came into existence
about 1960. From that smaller and more reliable black and colored tvs and
radios were made.
E mail was being worked on and in early 80s got a big start with c64s.It is now
working
Great along with many other things such as aviation. Fred McCaleb

One of My Kirkland School Teachers

By Fred McCaleb

On Wednesday September 16, 1998 I visited the corpse of one of my former
school teachers , Mr. John Hall Holliman , I had at Kirkland Jr. High School
in 1932. He was at Norwood Chapel Funeral Home in Fayette, Al. He had died in
Jefferson County, Al. at the age of 93. He had been around the most of this
century. I hadn’t seen him since attending Kirkland. He was an energetic
young man of about 26 or 27 years of age when I knew him and he was helping
to shape my life. I wanted to see him one more time and pay my last respects. I
thought he was an old timer at 26 while I was about 15. He managed to get my
respect long ago. Very few friends survived Mr. Holliman since he had outlived
nearly all of them. His wife was gone. His 95 year old sister was at the
funeral along with her caretaker. He had a daughter that lived in Colorado that
was present. She had already retired. It was a little lonely. A few like me that
used to know him were there.
We had moved from Miss. back to Alabama and I had the privilege of riding my
first school bus to school instead of walking. Ala. was ahead on transportation
but not on school. We rode a T-Model Ford bus to school . It had a long wooden
seat down each side of the privately owned and converted truck. It went very
slow up the hills and Murry Barns would sometimes get out the back, run along
behind, and make out like he was pushing. The sides and back had curtains that
were open in good weather but closed in bad. No modern windows. Murry was a
basket ball player and a comedian and got our attention. He would remark that
he was as active as a cow.
The thirties were the time electricity had not come to the farms in Alabama. I
was acquainted with a flashlight and its batteries and the ‘ring em’ up country
telephone hand cranked generator. Electricity fascinated me. I shocked my
little sister Clara Jean McCaleb with the phone generator. It’s a wonder I
didn’t kill her. The phone generator put out 90 volts AC I learned later. We
unhooked our telephone line when storms came up and threw it on the ground to
keep lightning from coming in on the house. If we didn’t hook back the line
was grounded and others on the party line had a hard time getting anyone else
to answer. Therefore no spread of community news. We had kerosene lamps to
give light for studying by. On arriving from school I helped with farm chores
such as slopping the hogs, feeding the mules and chickens, chopping stovewood
and firewood and drawing well water. We had running water. The farm boy or girl
ran to the well with a bucket or the spring if they had no well and ran back
with a bucket of water for the kitchen dishes, drinking, washing dirty feet
etc. Our toys were all home made by a boy like me that thought he needed
something to play with. I made truck wagons for us to ride down steep hills and
dodge trees around here. We shared them with the Dodson boys which were younger
and sometimes they would hit a tree with them. It’s a wonder they didn’t
kill themselves.
One of my home jobs was to help my dad clear ten or 15 acres of land near the
channel on Saturdays by pulling one end of a cross cut saw to cut down trees
and wielding a chopping axe to trim up the brush and pile into brush piles We
did 3 or 4 acres per winter and had log rollings in the spring. The neighboring
men and women came to the log rolling. Men to help pile the logs for burning and
the women for helping prepare the big dinner feast for the rolling. Everybody
got to talk and work. It took strong bodied men. I could shoulder a 200 lb sack
of nitrate of soda and walk across the field with it at that time. Some men
could pick up a 500 lb bale of cotton. Not much concern was given to being
safe. I was going bare footed and plowing a mule and wearing short hair in the
summer and wearing long hair and a pair of brogan shoes for the winter. We
warmed by a wooded fireplace. One side of you would burn while other froze.
Stiff warning from my dad was not to burn up your shoes or you might have to
finish the winter barefooted. Our standard week day clothing wear was a blue
chambray (or something) shirt and blue denim overalls We had brown or black long
stockings to wear with shoes in winter.It was an era of make do on your own or
die. Not much choice- “do or die.” This was an era of ignorance and
adventure for me. I picked up in John Hall Hollimans health class that we were
to keep our room well ventilated. My brother Hubert and I kept our little back
room ventilated winter and summer. We slept together on a home made cotton
mattress in the summer and a feather mattress in the winter. Plenty of home
made quilts and the feather mattress kept us warm in the winter and summer heat
kept us warm in summer. I learned in the health class things that stood by the
ignorant farm boy for the rest of my life. Things like not drinking alcohol,
catching veneral diseases by messing with opposite sex, getting rest at night
etc. One just about automatically got his rest at night. The world was not lit
up at night back then. At least the country wasn’t. The small oil light
became tiresome by about 8 pm. And one hit the bed. My dad required the ones
going to school to get up about 4|30 each morning in winter to start a fire in
the fireplace and in the kitchen stove. It was below his dignity to get up and
do that when he had a couple of big boys. My mother helped us in our school
work until we got above the 7th grade. That was as far as her schooling
knowledge went. My dads school knowledge didn’t go near that far, but he knew
lots about using reverse psychology on his children though he had never heard of
psychology. We grew up as a family in poverty and never knew the difference.
Everyone was in the same boat. Such fellows as Rockefeller, Mellon, Carnegie,
and Vanderbilt had the money. My mother said Rockefeller’s money is tainted,
it taint for you or it taint for me.
The John Hall Holliman days are gone. His early days were before sulfa drugs,
penicillin, the radio for everyone, motorized transportation for all, before
television, before computers, before any income to amount to anything, before
degrading of women’s rights, before pay above $21 per month for armed services
and pay to bring spouse along. It was before most everything we think we have
to have today. There were no refrigerators, but a block of ice could be bought
to make ice cream for the 4th of July. We had ice cream if it snowed in the
winter and most of the time on the 4th of July. We kept from starving by eating
our home grown products. .
One thing John Holliman asked in a science class was “If something that cant
be stopped hits something that can’t be moved then what happens.? I could not
answer that question then. During my life I decided there might be an atomic
explosion. A similar thing to that happened in Siberia when an object from
space came in at 240 thousand MPH. It leveled the forest for several miles
around. Another question asked was “If a tree falls in the woods and there is
no one around to hear it Did it make a noise. “ I couldn’t answer that one.
I think the scientists decided the tree made waves and the waves struck the ear
and made sensation of sound.. Maybe Mr. Holliman succeeded in arousing some
curiosity in me. I didn’t know much back then and still don’t claim to know
very much after being exposed to advances of most of this century. My brother
Hubert and I got interested in parachuting. We jumped off the barn with
momma’s umbrella. It turned wrong side out and ruined. We got punishment for
that. We survived the 10 feet jump.
At the funeral home visit of John Hall Holliman I met one of his nephews named
Theron Holliman that was in my class at Kirkland. I hadn’t seen him since the
30’s either. He informed me of the Kirkland bully named James South. Said
James South started bullying me. I got a brick bat and supposedly used it on
James. I am glad I didn’t hit him in the head and kill him. He said James
said I would kill a fellow and James cut out his bullying. I didn’t
recollect being that mean back then. I wasn’t in the habit of bothering
anyone and didn’t expect to be bothered. Sometime along about that time I
became a member of the Church of Christ at Mt. Olive . Maybe I was trying to
atone for the sins I had committed as a youngster. Who knows? Anyhow the
Kirkland and Mt. Olive days are gone and most of this century is gone and the
John Hall Holliman and Fred McCaleb era is a thing of the past. Maybe 1929
stock market failure will not repeat itself. There was another boy I recollect
being at Kirkland named Theron Black. He was smart and decent. He Joined the
Navy and was on one of the ships that the Japanese sunk at Pearl Harbor. The
ship is a memorial there. His name is on a monument in front of the Fayette
Court House. He enjoyed very little of this century. Maybe that will not happen
to someone’s future schoolmate.
Written by Fred McCaleb during 1998.

Morningside Assisted Living Home

by

Fred McCaleb

I will try to report a little about what I have learned about people living
here.

One man at the end of this end was put in here after he slept day and night
after drinking some alcohol. Put in for safety. His 3 sisters are faithful to
come and see him every day and bring him cheer. He eats with me but doesn’t
say much. He is about 68 years old.

A real slim old lady rooms across the hall from him. She never bothers anyone. I
say Hi to her and ask her how she is doing. She always says she is doing just
fine. She didn’t seem to eat as much as she should at first but seems to eat
ok now.

The next lady in the room next to the man that eats with me is nervous and sickly.
She eats a quart of ice about every 40 minutes or an hour. First I ever saw
anyone do that. I told her she would freeze herself to death. She didn’t pay
much attention. She is getting more complaining of health problems every day.
She asks for special things to eat. She got a cart to roll to walk and rolls it
real fast.

On the next room the other side of the hall is a man and woman from the other
side of the isle living together. He is an electrician from around here and
from Fla. And from WWII navy that did jobs free if they didn’t have money He
has 2 wives still living, went broke in business and is 88 years old. Live in
is the daughter of a Methodist preacher. She is having to lift him up from
table now. She can’t hear very much except with hearing aid. He claims he has
always been religious. Told some of us at AARP that he was same as Christ. Live
in walks by herself now. She seems to be true to him.

The next room up is the one legged lady that travels fast in a wheel chair and
lived next to my wife. She is a good lady as far as I can tell. She plays rook
with us sometimes and has her right mind. Her son and daughter in law come to
see her pretty often. Her son planted the pretty flowers next to her and my
wife’s room.

The next room on my side contains the one elected Queen last year. She is hard
of hearing and I have a hard time talking to her. She is sort of like my wife
on eating cereal part of the time. Her sister and brother in law come to
see her every few days. They don’t have any trouble talking.

Mr. and Mrs. that used to run Anderson Hardware living in my wife Bettie’s old
room. They are both OK mentally but older than me by two years. I enjoy talking
to them .They both went to college and met teaching school in Miss. Mr. told me
about Indians that used to be in the part of Miss. Where he lived. It didn’t
mention Indians there when I studied history in Miss. Mrs. Is a daughter of A.
M. Nix that used to be a Baptist preacher at Bethel above our house and other
places. She said he was about halfway a Primitive Baptist like my Grand Pa
Hallmark was. He preached hell fire and damnation sometimes when I heard him.

The next room on left is the one that I stay in. I have my troubles. Can’t
sleep at night very well. Doesn’t seem to hurt me very much to turn and toss
in the bed all night and not sleeping. I can sleep pretty good in a chair made
to relax in with my feet on the floor but don’t do too well with it raised.
Don’t complain too much about eating, but eat too much. Can’t sleep if
anything is making a noise at night. Guess I am too sensitive about that but
don’t seem to be able to help my sensitivities.

Next two rooms on the right have had a door cut in wall between. A Mr. and Mrs.
Live in them. The wife has a power vehicle to move around in. The husband is
sort of on the sick side and has a wheelchair. She pushes him wherever they go
with her power machine. He seemed to be bad sick when arriving here. Was very
nervous but somewhat better now. They always wave at me at meals. That’s all
I know about them.

Next on the left up from me is a Mrs. That has a son that runs the Frog Level
Internet. He is a very bright son. I once was in his net. Stayed in it a year
or two. Bought my first hard drive from him. His mother just barely can walk
slowly. She had a bad swelling In her ankle, but that is about gone. They give
her a dose of anti swelling medicine sometimes and that makes her feel bad. She
is the slowest walker on the place but doesn’t like to admit she needs wheel
chair. She has one that was her mothers but hates to use it. I get her walker
to her after she eats every day. She doesn’t understand me too well.

The next on left is a woman that has gone crazy from smoking cigarettes. A
friend of mine says it is from sleeping pills. She was smoking 10 or more
cigarettes a day out on the porch when me and friend were out there. Said it
wasn’t hurting her. She didn’t have much memory then. Said she was going
back to her hometown to her house. My friend didn’t convince her that it had
been sold. Finally her sister told her it was sold. She still thought that she
could go back. After that she went to sleeping all time and not coming out to
smoke. Her sister said she gave the last two packs to her and said keep them.
At the first of this week she slipped off from here and started walking, got on
highway 43 and cops brought her back. Her sister came and got her and took her
to Winfield Hospital. Don’t know if she will leave there with any sense or
not.

Next room on right is deformed sons. He is in a wheelchair all time now. The
crew pets him. He is getting very fat in the belly. They give him a coca cola
once or twice a day. He talks by sign language. He always gets what he wants.
He won’t eat food with any lumps in it. Takes him a long time to eat but he
always gets enough. He has a pretty good mind.
Can solve a certain type of crossword puzzle. He smiles at you when you do what
he wants. Quarrels at you and makes a big noise if things don’t suit him.

The last ones on the left side are the couple from Winfield. Her husband has
some kind of disease that mind gradually goes bad in old age. She is somewhat
disabled herself and has to wear an oxygen mask. He was doing pretty good a
couple of years ago when I came. Would join in church songs sometimes. Was very
friendly and named same last name as a teacher I used to have at Kirkland. She
is a clay artist and has made many beautiful things from clay. They are a very
friendly family. He got to where she could not even get him to the dining hall
lately and she had to send him to the hospital In Winfield. Hope he improves
and gets to come back.

The last one on the right on my end is hard to describe. She had many gripes
about the place when I came. About 6 months ago she was so fed up with
everything that she decided to starve herself to death. Mrs. Below me had the
same idea. Mrs. Below me left .I don’t know if she starved or not. This one
kept dieting for about a month. I told her she had better start eating if she
didn’t want to starve to death. She started eating a little 3 or 4 days later
and survived. She’s not as alert as she was before.

I will start on the aisle to the left today. The first room contains a lady that
tries to be real friendly. She is in the middle 90s and used to shake hands with
me before she fell and broke her hip. She stayed in the hospital about 2 or 3
months but finally came back. They roll her in a wheel chair part of the time
and let her walk part of the time. When walking she groans about every step.
She still has her mind more or less. She always eats real well. She is one of
the few that have survived hip fractures.

The second room on the right houses a blind lady. Her sister comes and helps her
eat part of the time. Some of the time she eats at a table in the dining hall.
She ate at the other end of my table for a month or two. She needs to be told
where she can find things to eat. I tried to help her find things she had
missed at end of meal. Some days she is feeling bad and doesn’t want to eat
at all. The aids just take her back to her room. I feel sorry for her. They
walk her to eat sometimes. She tries to walk around sometimes and has her hands
in front of her. She can’t find anything.

The first one on the left past laundry room is a woman in 60s with mental
degeneration. She doesn’t know where she is, where her room is or anything.
She is one of the best dancers on the place. The one on the other end that
sleeps with his girlfriend danced with her and he is a good dancer. She had a
bowel movement in the middle of her bedroom floor one day. They don’t let her
outside for feat she might walk off. She generally smiles at me when I wave at
her.

The next one on the right is real reserved. She speaks to very few people and
seems to not trust many of them. I judge to be in the high 80s. She was in the
hospital for a while back in the spring. When the aid tried to get her to walk
she told her she would see her in hell. But they got her to walk anyhow. She
goes to her room when meals are over and stays there generally to mealtime
again. I believe it would help her if she would figure that everyone liked her.

The next one on the left is a comparatively new lady that is 90 and in a wheel
chair. She is friendly and rolls her own wheel chair most of the time. She
smiles every time I speak to her. She is trying to do the best she can. Eats
what she wants of most every meal. I believe she thinks that everyone likes
her. I believe she may have some similarities in disposition to me.

The next one on the right is a relative new lady I don’t really know. She
seems to be happy eating in the dining hall. Comes in a walker roller and has
trouble getting out but leaves in a fast pace. Seems to me she walks to fast
for her age. I tried to talk to her once. She finally gave me her name which I
promptly forgot. She didn’t seem to hear too well.
If I had advice it would be to slow down and be lazy.

The next one on the left can communicate with one, play cards, do most anything
and she has had a triple bypass and the Dr. didn’t give her long to live. She
has already lived 2 or 3 years and looks as if she may live a few more. She eats
well and with 3 other ladies that can communicate. She is like me she likes to
eat too well. I play cards when she is playing sometimes. She told me not to
get mad if I lose and I haven’t got angry a time yet.

The next one on the right is a one that I knew the family she married into. Her
husbands dad was a farm man under Roosevelt that came along and measured
dad’s cotton land and had my dad plow up part of it. That made my dad angry.
Her husband used to tell me hello at eating place. He died a year or two ago.
She is in a wheel chair most of the time.
They have to keep her tied down so she will not fall out. She is friendly and
doesn’t talk unless asked something. Aids have walked her a small amount.
Some of her husbands brothers and sisters went to school with me at Kirkland Jr
Hi.

The next one on the left is a man. He was a salesman and worked 2 jobs most of
his life before having a stroke. He knew a lot of the people in the county that
I didn’t know and a few that I did. I enjoy talking to him. He is like my wife
on the food. Not much of it any good. He knows about some of the businesses I
knew about. Like at Hubbardville. He said working 2 jobs before he had stroke
caused him to have it. He didn’t know about the saving power of aspirin
before stroke. He is a big sportsman. To me the one that wins is the best.

The next one on the right is a lady that lived up the road about 2 miles from
me. She is one of the ones still in pretty good health at 96 or 97. I used to
meet her and husband walking the road in her neighborhood. She eats pretty good
at the table. It takes her about 3 tries to get up and into her walker. Her
daughter helps her one day and stepdaughter the next day. She didn’t want to
be moved up to a closer room. Said the ones up there died quicker. She may make
it to 100.

The next one on the left is a famous one. She apparently has plenty of money.
She doesn’t seem to like the food here too well either. She has not eaten
here more than a tenth of the time. Her husband was some one associated with
foot ball coaching at the University of Ala. She hasn’t been here in a couple
of weeks. I don’t know if she is with her daughter or sick. I guess she is
still paying for her room. She always spoke to me. Some said she wasn’t
friendly. I assume everyone is friendly whether they are or not.

The next room on the right is a woman or about 96 or 97 years herself. She
always walks to the dining hall with a walker. She didn’t want up front
either. She eats with 3 others she can talk to. She has a daughter and a sister
that come to see her very often. They don’t help her get up and in and out of
walker. She is a real old timer. She takes the Birmingham News and reads that
part of the day. She doesn’t seem to worry when it doesn’t get to her room
on time. Maybe not worrying has helped her to live a long life.

The next one on the left is the wife of a Chiropractor of Winfield, Al. Her
Daughter comes to see her nearly every day. She is Hard of hearing but very
friendly. Her daughter shouts at her and she can hear that. If she could hear
she would be able to talk to one. I wish she could. Her daughter said she could
tell a wonderful story of history.

The last one on the right is a man that has been here many years. He was 97 this
year. He always rolls his walker like mine to meals. Puts it aside outside and
walks on in to the first table. He comes to all the bingo games and generally
wins one or more tickets. He talks if you ask him something and he hears it. He
is a little hard of hearing. Everyone there thinks he is a great man. He has
some automatic lifts in his room.

The last one on the left is a woman. She used to be a school teacher. My man
friend said she was very smart in her youth. Her son runs a business across
road from college. He seems to be doing fairly well. He comes to see her on
Sunday. She has had a bunch of operations that have left her nearly without a
mind. Sometimes she doesn’t know where her room is. She has been known to go
in someone else’s room and start taking off her shoes. I was walking down at
her end of hall one day and she came out of one of the rooms on her right
stripped from waist on down. I told her that her room was on the left. That
didn’t excite me. I felt sorry for her.

Anybody Can Write

by

Fred McCaleb

Saying that anybody can write wouldn't be quite true. One would need to know how
to form the letters of the alphabet with a writing instrument such as a pencil,
pen, typewriter or computer keyboard. He would need the use of one arm, hand
and fingers. He would need to know a few simple words.
What would one write about? The first choice would be to write about something
he knew about. He could write about his friends, about his parents, about his
possessions, about his brothers and sisters, about his shortcomings and about a
thousand other areas. There would be many unique areas in which he had
experiences he wished to record. One of my favorite subjects to write about is
the history of my ancestors. Another favorite area is principles of good
living. I sometimes write about unpleasant experiences in WWII or in other
places. The area of doing positive thinking is a good place to pick a subject.
Who would be interested in your writing? Probably there would be no one
particularly interested in what you had to say even if it were very good. Write
down what you have to say for your own satisfaction and keep a copy of it from
now on. Somewhere down the line someone may read it after fifty or a hundred
years have passed and think it is old and unique and out of the dark ages.
Writing in the present time is sort of like talking. The fellow talking is too
busy thinking of his point of view to pay any attention to what you have to say
and your point of view. Many good newspaper articles are written and very few
ever bother to read the article. The author spent serious time researching and
writing the article, and then the article is only read by a few people. Most
readers are like my grandpa McCaleb when the editor of the Fayette Banner was
trying to sell him a year's subscription. My grandpa told him, "One could read
the Fayette Banner and eat a bait of popcorn and have nothing on his mind or
stomach either." He also told an early radio salesman that he wouldn't have his
radio because he (grandpa) wanted to half the talking. My aunt said he wanted to
do all the talking. So grandpa did the talking, and he did no writing, and I
have none of his writing except his signature to his marriage license when he
and grandma ran away and got married at Aberdeen, Ms.

One of the most interesting pieces of writing I have run into in my family is my
GG grandma Zilpha Galloway Hollingsworth's fifty page notebook. She was the
second wife of the first John Hollingsworth of Fayette County, Al. The first
wife Matilda White had died after having seven Hollingsworth’s. The second wife
Zilpah had seventeen children and kept a notebook. Her penmanship is beautiful.
The births, deaths, marriages, grandchildren, Civil War service, family
transactions and everything is right there. Her grammar wasn't perfect, but
there was no trouble knowing what she had to say. I am so thankful for her. She
was the only one of my ancestors that wrote anything down. The writing in old
deeds and wills is interesting, but that was done by county court house clerks.
The earliest writing I have was done by a priest in an English Church about the
time Christopher Columbus sailed for America. It is in Latin and concerns the
Hallmark branch of my family.
Do you have to write perfect to be a writer? The answer is no. If you are
striving for perfection you may never get the first page written. The diary is
a good place to write if just writing for your own satisfaction. Do most people
think their diary is important? Most I have asked about it don't think so. But
the older a diary becomes the more valuable it is. I recently copied a diary
written by Nick Morris of NE Fayette County, Al. from 1891 to 1930. There is
some very interesting and valuable information in that diary. He probably
thought it worthless. He wrote one sentence per day for about 40 years and
mentioned things that can't be found anywhere else. What one writes is or may
be important sometime. Unfortunately, I have never kept a diary. Some events in
my life have been written down.
The letter is a good place to practice writing. Write your congressman about
your thinking on some political issue. A letter stating your views in your own
hand writing has more influence than your vote. It doesn't have to be perfectly
punctuated. If the letter looks too perfect the congressman may think it is a
form letter composed by someone else. Write your parents, brothers, sisters,
and friends. Save the letters they write you.
The letters will become more important the older they become. I have old letters
received through the years including the V-mail I received while on Saipan in
WWII. It didn't seem like much then, but now I can revisit with my mother again
as I read her old letters of concern about me. She was always disappointed when
she went to the mail box and no letter from me was there.
I have tried to be a writer, but haven't become perfect at it yet. There is
always a comma, a semicolon, a colon, too many words for the meaning meant to
convey. The thoughts are poorly organized and paragraphed. But still I write. I
am sort of dumb on writing. I guess I am also stubborn, have an ego, or
something. So far I have never let anyone convince me that I couldn't write as
I did with speaking and singing. If you think you can, you can. If you think you
can't, you can't. So far I am too dumb to know I can't. I do realize I need to
improve, so some day there may be hope that I will be a good writer. But I
don't have too many "some days" left, so I better get busy and write something
of my times down.
I have written in my own way a family history of my ancestors. The main part of
this took up about 650 pages. It remains far from complete, but each time I get
something new I insert the new info into the book. To keep the book from being
trashed I have given copies to about ten libraries across the country including
the Mormon Library in Salt Lake City, Utah. Generations a hundred years from now
will know that I existed and thank me for the work I did. I get genealogical
phone calls and letters concerning common ancestors every few days. My
genealogical writings are in the Fayette and Winfield Libraries in the
genealogical section.
If you want to write, pick something you are interested in and start. Don't let
anyone stop you. You may become an authoritative writer in that field some day.
You may want to write about dolls. There are many varieties of them.