Emilee stayed
Friday night with her Nona
down at Dreka. With hunting
license and camo packed neatly
in her girly “Tote me
to Nona’s” pink
and brown overnight bag, she
departed excitedly for youth
weekend. Better luck next
time Em.
Now don’t tell Emilee,
but Big E and I had dinner
in town. As we were being
seated, I noticed Lizanne
Burke and Roy Blackshear.
I went over to congratulate
them on the new grandboy.
Who just happened to be napping
in his infant carrier beside
his parents, but the little
darling himself. Lizanne was
beaming. Roy said he was boring.
And the mother of CJ’s
mini me told them they should
be around at midnight.
Que the unsolicited advice
from one pretend like columnist,
but real life mom. To give
my advice validity, I explain
to the young mother that I
once was a young mother myself
and that I had at a more mature
maternal age began a new family.
I tell her to enjoy those
nocturnal needs of her wee
one, because it won’t
be long before he not only
doesn’t need her, but
he probably won’t even
like her. It’s sad but
true.
Sadder but true, I remember
thinking in the middle of
the night when Zac and Liza
were babies, “What could
you possibly need now?”
“I’ll be so glad
when you sleep through the
night.” Isn’t
that horrible? It wasn’t
long that I got my wish. Then
when Emilee came along I’d
say to her as I scooped her
little squalling self out
of her baby bed, “Oh,
the little darling needs me.”
Same mom, different attitude.
Why, because I learned how
fast it all goes by and I
didn’t want to miss
a minute this time around.
Also, my then eleven year
old Liza told me one day when
I wished Friday would hurry
up and get here, that I was
wishing her life away. True
dat, Liza. Now if you’ll
just remember that for yourself
someday or maybe even today.

As
we were heading out to pay,
we stopped to visit with another
table of folks we know. Kevin
and Jennifer Jones were having
dinner with Terry and Alison
Scull and Dr. and Mrs. Collard.
Of course conversation turned
to weather.
I exclaim that we got over
9 inches at our house! Everyone
agrees that it was a lot.
Kevin says, “Hey Terrie,
remember that day when there
was flood when we were in
the first grade and you came
to school soaking wet up to
here?”, holding his
hands up to his waist.
Yes. Yes, I do. It was however
not first grade.
Here’s what I know.
Circa 1979, Hurricane Alicia
wreaked havoc on the southeast
and eastern part of the state
causing widespread catastrophic
flooding. This was in the
spring of that year. If that
is the case, then Kevin and
I would have been in the second
grade.
I’m thinking though
that our flood, which Mother
said brought 17 inches of
rain to Shelby County, was
in the fall. But let’s
delve a little deeper into
our history mystery.
Like most men, time is measured
by the cars they drove. Daddy
said he had a brand new 1980
Ford Highway Patrol car. If
he had a new 1980 state issued
Highway Patrol car, he would
have received it in the fall,
right Kevin? Perhaps he had
the vehicle for a few months?
This would then have us in
the spring of 1980. Daddy
also said he thought it was
in the spring. If that is
case, then this flood would
have occurred during our third
grade year.
Just the same Kevin, I do
remember coming to school
that day soaking wet up to
here.
That morning was a very dark
morning. The clouds were not
gray, they were black. It
was like driving at night,
but it was morning. I don’t
recall why exactly, but Joann
Scott (she was the wife of
Daddy’s partner Roger
Scott) was driving me to school
in my mother’s car because
they rode to school together.
I don’t remember the
make of the car, but I think
it was white and it was a
big as boat (except of course
it was not a boat). We had
dropped mother and the bigger
kids off at the Junior High
on Malone Drive where she
worked as a teachers' aide.
Mary Linda and Jennifer Scott
went to Head Start across
from the Junior High.
I remember the car creeping
through high water right in
front of Dr. Nethery’s
office. Then it stalled. We
had no choice, but to abandon
the car that was not a boat
and walk the rest of the way
cold and shivering in the
rain up hill both ways to
the Elementary school.
Our family could not go home.
The Scott family, who lived
in Timpson, was gracious enough
to take us in. The bridge
to our house, near Buena Vista,
had been taken out by the
raging river that had been
a barely trickling Flat Fork
Creek.
Daddy tells stories of working
in that flood to rescue people.
I remember how he would describe
removing his gun belt and
tying ropes around his waist
to wade out to folks. He tells
of feeling the asphalt being
pulled from under his feet
by the rushing water.
Somewhere on FM 1645, there
was a set of twin baby brothers
that were in desperate need
of an oxygen delivery. My
daddy braved the torrents
to get the badly needed supplies
to the tots. True story. And
one of the tots grew up to
be a teacher and told Liza
the story that had been handed
down to him.
Maybe that teacher, Mr. Raines,
could tell us what the date
or the year or the season
of this storm was. Alison
Scull suggested we ask Ms.
Mattie. I’d like to
know for sure. I’d also
like to know if this type
of flooding had occurred at
some other time. Let me know.
The only thing I know for
sure is that there were not
any injuries or lose of life
in our area during the recent
deluge. And for that I’m
thankful and hopeful that
we won’t have to experience
anything like it again.