Burger Trip
In Search Of Phillips Grocery
It’s been a year or more since
Shirley Hale asked me if I’d ever eaten a hamburger from a certain place
in Holly Springs. She said that she and Joel had done so returning from a
trip to Memphis. She was driving while Joel was napping or else she said
they wouldn’t have stopped. Joel awakened enough to get a look at the
place and decided he didn’t want to go inside and eat. Shirley bought
a couple of burgers, and they drove back home to eat them. Shirley remembered
the burgers were pretty good, even though they’d gotten cold. Joel
remembered the burgers were wrapped in paper and stuffed inside a paper sack
which was grease soaked by the time he and Shirley ate.
In spite of the description of the business and the greasy burgers, Shirley
had me hankering to try one of the burgers.
"We’ll have to make a trip up there, one of these days," I suggested,
and Joel and Shirley agreed.
Yet, with our busy lives, even the best of ideas sometimes get lost among
the clutter of events that fill the hours of the day. The burger idea was
almost forgotten until I passed through Holly Springs last month, driving
along old Hwy. 78 for a diversion from my routine. Leaving the court square,
I could almost hear Shirley’s directions.
"Leaving Holly Springs, you go down a hill and into a curve…" she stated.
"It’s near the railroad."
Well, I saw the hill, the curve, and the railroad, but I didn’t see
a place that sold hamburgers. So, with the burger idea rekindled, I made
a point of talking to Joel and Shirley the next Sunday, after church.
"Yeah, we’d love to go!" they stated. "Just tell us when."
"I’ll have to check with Barbara," I replied. "I think she’s got
something the next two weekends."
"They’ve opened up another location in Oxford, across from the hospital,"
Joel shared. "We can go there if you want to."
"Is it Phillips Grocery?" I asked, having forgotten the name of the business
in Holly Springs that Shirley had mentioned.
"Yeah, that’s it," Joel responded.
Over the next couple of weeks, I did some checking on the Internet and discovered
both locations feature a hamburger and cater to the lunch crowd. Also, Carl
Wayne Hardeman, after reading my article about Old Hwy. 78, wrote to suggest
I visit
Phillips Grocery in Holly Springs for a good hamburger and to stop in Potts
Camp for a delicious fried pie. Meanwhile, Barbara and Shirley talked over
our schedule and Shirley said they’d pick us up around nine-thirty Saturday
morning. I presumed by the early departure time, we’d be going to Holly
Springs.
Last Saturday morning, I got out early enough to drop off a couple of
hand-delivered newsletters and was back home by nine-thirty.
"Shirley called," Barbara related. "They’re on their way."
As Joel and Shirley got out of their van, I apologized for my cluttered carport
and the fact it hadn’t been swept in a couple of weeks. They didn’t
seem to mind the looks of things, and I didn’t mind the cantaloupe Joel
was carrying or the sack of ripe tomatoes in Shirley’s hands.
"I can smell this cantaloupe," I commented, raising the melon to my nose.
"I know it’s gonna’ be a good one."
Minutes later we were loaded into the van and on our way to Holly Springs.
"Does it matter which way we go?" Joel asked once we were on the highway.
"I thought it might be fun to go to New Albany and drive up old ’78
all the way to Holly Springs," I replied.
"Okay, we can do that," Joel responded. "I haven’t been that way in
a long time."
And, that’s the route we took, Highway 15 to New Albany, then left on
Bankhead Street, straight through downtown New Albany and all the way to
Holly Springs on the old highway. Joel pointed out the movie theater he attended
in his younger days.
"There’s the road I turned on to go to work, when I was working for
Three Rivers," Shirley noted, and then as we passed a furniture factory,
"That’s where I started to work…Futorian…had my first job
there."
We passed the time reminiscing with each familiar landmark. At Myrtle, we
noted the church and campground founded by Percy Ray. At Hickory Flat, Barbara
showed us the home of her mom’s sister, Aunt Frances. Near Potts Camp,
Joel showed us where the police had a speed trap setup and told us how he
got his first speeding ticket. He said he was driving the third car in a
long line of cars being held up by a slow motorist.
"We’d been following that guy for miles and miles of hills and curves
with no chance to pass. Finally, we started down a hill and had room to pass.
I fell in behind the car in front of me and we got on it pretty good. I let
up after passing him, but it was too late, because the police had caught
us speeding. The officer went around me and after the other car, but when
that guy took off up a dirt road, the officer pulled me over and gave me
a ticket. I told him I had broken the speed limit to get around the slow
driver but the rest of the time I wasn’t speeding. It didn’t do
any good…he wrote me a ticket. When I went to pay the ticket I told
the Justice of Peace my story, and he reduced the ticket from $32.00 to $19.00.
Still, that was about a week’s pay."
Joel showed us the bridge where the speed trap was set up and even remembered
the house where he paid his fine.
In Potts Camp, I mentioned Carl Wayne’s recommendation of a place that
made some good fried pies, but I didn’t remember the name of the restaurant.
Thinking we might be in the mood for a fried pie after lunch, Joel pulled
in front of a business named Granny’s. I went inside and asked the
proprietor about fried pies. She told me I’d found the right place but
the "pie lady" was in Colorado and wouldn’t be back for a full week.
I told her we were from out of town, but we’d heard about her homemade
fried pies and to expect us back in a few weeks.
Our next stop was Holly Springs. Those of us able to remember the congested
traffic that once traveled two-lane ’78 continue to be amazed at how
peaceful and serene the old road has become. Joel was especially awed with
the lack of traffic.
"It’s as though the only people who travel this highway are the ones
who live along it," he observed.
"And the curious ones like us," I added.
When we arrived in Holly Springs, I saw the familiar curve, hill, and railroad
trestle Shirley had described. Somehow, the part about turning off the main
highway, that I was told to do, had gotten misplaced. But, once Joel made
a right turn and drove up the hill a quarter-mile or so, we found Phillips
Grocery right where it was supposed to be, by the railroad track and across
the street from the old depot.
To be continued…
Dance Craze
Of The Devil
In the mid-fifties, with the emergence of a new style of music called Rock
and Roll, many folks found reason to shun it. My parents, who had grown up
in the roaring twenties and had seen the likes of the Charleston and later
the Jitterbug, probably weren’t shocked by what they saw and heard.
However, it wasn’t "their" music, and as far as I know they never danced
to a Rock and Roll tune. Nor did Dad add any rock songs to his fiddle repertoire.
I was a member of First Baptist Church, Pontotoc, when Elvis came on the
national scene, but I don’t remember any of my Sunday School teachers
or Training Union leaders having much to say about the evils of Rock and
Roll or that dancing was a sin. In fact, I don’t recall any discussions
pertaining to Elvis or dance. However, another influential person in my life,
Miss Sara Wright, Bible teacher at Pontotoc High School, had a lot to say
on both subjects. She described the sort of dancing that accompanied the
music of my generation as "of the Devil" stating its origins were from the
Dark Continent, Africa. To her way of thinking, Christians should distance
themselves from dance.
Not all of my classmates took her admonitions as seriously as I did, but
for me, I never even tried to learn to dance during my high school years.
It wasn’t until I was dating while attending Northwest Junior College
in Senatobia, MS, that I attempted to dance. As I recall, my first efforts
were limited to "slow dancing" to an Elvis tune named "Can’t Help Falling
In Love." Ah, sin never felt so good.
I’m no better dancer today than I was the first time I tried dancing,
as apparently one must practice in order to become accomplished. One of these
days, perhaps when I retire, Barbara and I may sign up for a class in ballroom
dancing. I’ll need the exercise; I’m sure of it.
Truly, dance can be beautiful, unprovocative, and artistically performed.
Yet, I have to wonder how Miss Wright might have regarded the sensual, even
erotic forms of modern dance. No doubt, the wiggling and jiggling of Rock
and Roll are tame, if not lame, compared to what passes for dance today.
It is with no small alarm that I view dance as the next "traditional" barrier
to crumble in Christian worship. As church leaders continue to promote
Christianity via entertainment, there will be many who advocate dance as
an extension of praise. I’m no soothsayer, but I’m certain dance
is coming to First Baptist Church, Pontotoc. After all, it’s already
found in many churches in this country, and once the entertainment gap is
opened there’s no limit to what’ll run through.
I’m aware that the Bible notes instances of dance being used as a form
of worship, but I would note the examples are sparse and the evidence weak
in support of praise dancing in a Christian church.
I predict we’ll, first, see dance incorporated in a children’s
musical program as something to make parents and grandparents beam with pride
and joy. There won’t be much, if any, resistance to small children dancing
in church. Perhaps, the next phase will involve youth, but the proponents
of dance may skip right past our youth into that which contemporary worship
calls the "praise team," as these are already singing to a beat foreign to
that of traditional worship. And, from praise team to congregants is but
a small step to have believers dancing before the
LORD.
In hindsight, I’ve concluded Miss Wright was right about Rock and Roll
being "of the Devil." And, from a societal point of view, Rock and Roll may
have spelled the beginning of our country’s moral decline. That dance
now threatens to invade the sanctuaries of Christians is but further evidence
that the Devil continues "seeking those whom he may devour." (1 Peter 5:8)
By Wayne, "don’t save the last dance for me" Carter.
Airport
Security New And Improved
Worse things could happen than a person being delayed by security at an airport
following officials uncovering a terrorists’ plot to blow airplanes
out of the sky by smuggling bomb making materials on board certain flights.
One could be on a flight that was blown out of the sky.
Thus, it is with some rejoicing that RRN subscriber, Linda Ball Reeves, her
husband Martin, and another couple traveling with them recount the frustrations
of the day when a recent terrorist plot unraveled. Linda and her party were
scheduled to return from a European vacation on a flight from London, on
August 10th. The flight was scheduled to depart at 10:00 a.m.,
but it was 7:00 p.m. before airport security had completed passenger screenings
and "sweeps" of the aircraft. Of course, once arriving in Atlanta, well behind
schedule for a connecting flight, everyone was forced to spend a night in
the terminal prior to departing to their respective final destinations.
"I was never for one moment afraid that we were in any danger but was just
concerned about loved ones back home who I knew would be worried
half-crazy about us," Linda shared in an email. "We knew that many people
knew that we were
returning Thursday and would be praying for us. From now on, when someone
asks me to pray for their safe travel, I'll be a lot more serious and fervent
about it!"
Meanwhile, anyone expecting to travel by air in the foreseeable future is
advised to check all liquids as opposed to retaining them in carry-on luggage.
Bodock Beau Kids
Of Yesteryear
Actually, we’re not sure the kids of the 70’s qualify to be included
in the generational musing that follows, but we’re leaving it as sent
our way courtesy of Kenneth Gaillard.
TO ALL THE KIDS WHO SURVIVED
the 1930's 40's, 50's, 60's and 70's
First, we survived being born to mothers who smoked and/or drank while they
were pregnant. They took aspirin, ate blue cheese dressing, tuna from a can,
and didn't get tested for diabetes.
Then after that trauma, we were put to sleep on our tummies in baby cribs
covered with bright colored lead-based paints.
We had no childproof fasteners on medicine bottles, doors or cabinets and
when we rode our bikes, we had no helmets, not to mention the risks we took
hitchhiking.
As infants & children, we would ride in cars with no car seats, booster
seats, seat belts or air bags.
Riding in the back of a pick up on a warm day was always a special treat.
We drank water from the garden hose and NOT from a bottle.
We shared one soft drink with four friends, from one bottle and no one actually
died from this.
We ate cupcakes, white bread and real butter and drank Kool-Aid made with
sugar, but we weren't overweight because we were always outside playing!
We would leave home in the morning and play all day, as long as we were back
when the streetlights came on.
No one was able to reach us all day. And we were okay.
We would spend hours building our go-carts out of scraps and then ride down
the hill, only to find out we forgot the brakes. After running into the bushes
a few times, we learned to solve the problem.
We did not have PlayStations, Nintendo's, X-boxes, no video games at all,
no 150 channels on cable, no video movies or DVD's, no surround-sound or
CD's, no cell phones, no personal computers, no Internet or chat rooms...we
had friends, and we went outside and found them!
We fell out of trees, got cut, broke bones and teeth and there were no lawsuits
from these accidents.
We ate worms and mud pies made from dirt, and the worms did not live in us
forever
We were given BB guns for our 10th birthdays.
We made up games with sticks and tennis balls and, although we were told
it would happen, we did not put out very many eyes.
We rode bikes or walked to a friend's house and knocked on the door or rang
the bell or just walked in and talked to them!
Little League had tryouts and not everyone made the team. Those who didn't
had to learn to deal with disappointment. Imagine that!
The idea of a parent bailing us out if we broke the law was unheard of. They
actually sided with the law!
These generations have produced some of the best risk-takers, problem solvers
and inventors ever!
We had freedom, failure, success and responsibility, and we learned how to
deal with it all! If you are one of them, congratulations!
Copyright © 2000 - 2006 RRN
Online.
