Bearcats on the battlefield

Lower color photo

by Clarene Evans

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Here are contrasting photos of Baldwyn guys at the Shiloh Military Park. One was made in 1955, the other in June 2008. The first was made during filming of the movie that is still shown at the museum/visitor center at the Park.

A number of Bearcats were involved in the filming of that movie. The top photo shows Lanny Outlaw (R) and Ted Hill (Wheeler) to his right. John Olan is also further to his right.

The lower photo was made at the mini-reunion last week and shows (L-R) Carl, John Olan, Ellis Wayne, Henry, and "Ace" McCary.

We learned a story about the cannon that we are standing by. Notice that it is still very brassy and new looking. There is no patina on the barrel. We were told by park personnel that previously that spot was occupied by a cannon that was used in the time era of the battle. Some people in the state of North Carolina wanted it back since it belonged to them, although it had been at Shiloh for many years. They enlisted the assistance of Senator Elizabeth Dole and after negotiations it was sent back to the state. The stipulation was that it had to be replaced by another one, and this is an almost new fully functional cannon. I am trying to find out more about it, the manufacturer and date, etc.

For you that are artillery enthusiasts, this cannon is in the Ruggles' Battery line, which was at the time the largest concentration of cannon ever assembled (62). That pinned down the Union troops at the battle of the Hornet's Nest, allowing the confederate infantry to encircle and capture many of the enemy.

Henry Outlaw was "killed" at this battle reenactment in 1955. More on that later...

Pool Hall Baby

by Jo Carolyn Anderson Beebe

The people in the town where I was born were hard-working, trustworthy, and caring. Some might say they lived a life of simple innocence—never locking doors, inviting traveling salesmen into their homes, and leaving their babies in pool halls.

When my mother went shopping, she would often drop me off at the pool hall where I would rule the parlor from my vantage point in the middle of a pool table. The proprietor was also the rural mail carrier and a good friend of my parents. I don't remember this of course, but I can imagine Mr. Palmer surrounding me with billiard balls which I rolled into the side pockets. From time to time, Mother would walk by and sneak a look through the plate glass window to see if I was okay.

When I was older, of course, I was never allowed to go inside the pool hall. By the time I was six or seven, the pool hall became a den of iniquity and remained so until I was a teenager, and we moved away. The same men hung out there, as they did when I was holding court; however, they now were labeled drunks and loafers, and the dandies with the bow ties went by another name.

Now if it seems that my mother was irresponsible for leaving me in the pool hall with the above mentioned men, nothing could be farther from the truth. Those men respected my mother and cherished me and would have fought each other to protect me from anything vile or harmful. And when I saw them at church on Sunday, I saw my friends.

There was another store where Mother found eager babysitters—Gordon's Department Store, staffed by Mr. M. Gordon, Mrs. Gordon, and Mr. Luster Williamson. Mr. Gordon was a Jewish immigrant from Russia. He and his wife and their son, Phil, were the only Jews in town, but no one ever seemed to think about that. Those folks loved for Mother and me to come into their store, and Mother said they argued over who was going to hold me. They would tell Mother to go do her shopping. They would take care of me. I can vaguely remember strutting around on the counters as if I was on a stage. Being dressed in copies of Shirley Temple dresses made by Mother probably prompted such showing off.

By the time I was nine or ten, my favorite babysitters were Mr. and Mrs. Claude Gentry. These were the years when Daddy worked at Oak Ridge, Tennessee, helping construct the atomic energy facility. At the time, no one knew its purpose. The men just knew the government was paying their salaries. So anyway, if Mother had a women's evening meeting at church, she would have me walk to town to go to the picture show. Mr. Gentry owned the Ritz Theater, and Mrs. Gentry sold the tickets. Mr. Gentry always stood by the ticket booth, and if he didn't think the movie was appropriate for kids, he wouldn't let us buy a ticket. I remember going back to the church in tears because he wouldn't let me see "Forever Amber." But if the movie was okay, I stayed happily for the previews, RKO News, a cartoon or short subject, and the feature show. Mother would usually be waiting for me in the lobby, but if she wasn't there, Mr. and Mrs. Gentry would watch after me until she arrived.

There are many reasons for not going back to the good old days, but memories of the days of simple innocence bring a longing in my heart.

Mini-Reunion, Spring 2008

A few photos of some of the attendees at the mini-reunion at Pickwick Lake last Thursday-Saturday. Starting with dinner Thursday evening at the Catfish Hotel, and ending with a rainy departure just before noon on Saturday, the group had a great time. Highlights were, of course, eating, and the Shiloh Park visit to see the movie and monuments. Friday evening we watched a DVD of old photos of the Baldwyn area.

Plans we discussed are to try to get together again in the Fall at Okelala Festival time. Henry has some unique T-shirts he thinks some of you might want to wear. He will describe them later when the design is worked out and available for you to see.

Thanks to all who came. It was good to see you-all.

_________________________

Coming Thursday: A story of a cannon, and a couple of contrasting Shiloh photos.

Please, let me have a do over……

By Clarene Evans Nanney
(Second from Left)

The names of the graduating class of 2008 are now forever etched in the annuls of time, in our hearts and probably hidden somewhere on a special wall of the greatest school in North Mississippi. Walking across the stage and receiving my diploma was as special for me as it was for any one of those 51 seniors who recently received theirs and the only difference was the number of graduates.

When my class, the class of 1963 assembled for our last big march down an aisle together as a group, there were only 33 of us. Can you imagine only 33 graduates making up a graduating class? At the time though, we were one of the largest classes to ever graduate from good ol’ BHS.

I miss those days and before you know it, some of you will as well. All too soon, your childhood will be stripped from your being like a limb is wrenched from a tree during a storm. When this occurs, you suddenly have to start acting and thinking like an adult. Now trust me on this one, that time, however welcomed at the moment, will last for a long, looooooooooong time. Never again will you be that carefree, never again will you be that vulnerable.

But, having said that, I still want to go back and be a kid just one more time even if get into trouble for talking, or being late for class, or for skipping school altogether and going off to the fair or even for sneaking into Mrs. Brown’s home economics room and hemming a skirt for my girlfriend who didn’t have a clue how to sew. I think I’ve told you that story already. It really is funny and I’ll probably live to regret sharing that one!

I want to go back in time and be able to climb the bleachers to the very top row and watch the homecoming football game from there and not care how cold it gets. I want to actually learn geometry. Mrs. Vandiver was right, I did need it after all. I want to actually go back and read the "House of Seven Gables" and not just the Classic’s comic book version by the same name. I want to recite the poem about Flanders Field where poppies grow, between the crosses row by row and draw a picture to illustrate it for Mrs. Floy Bludworth . She was the one who first introduced me to poetry in the sixth grade. I want to go back and tell Mrs. Eudora Grisham Kemp that learning to diagram a sentence really does have a place in the structure of a paragraph after all. And last, but certainly not least, I want to finally find Kenya on the globe in Mrs. Hoover’s history class and be able to tell her what crops are actually grown there.

I want to learn it all this next time around. I know now that I wasted so much of what was lovingly offered to me. Eventually the childish games that at the time felt neither childish nor like games, were replaced with adulthood and the many decisions that came with that phase. The gray hairs came and were covered over with chestnut brown hair color for a while but eventually were left alone because they became too many.

The next time around I promise I will actually pay attention in class and realize what is important and what is not.

I know now that I took my childhood for granted and thought my youth would last forever. It didn’t and I want a “do over”…….please………

BCR Battleground Scenes, June 1954

Top: The Greenes.

Second: One view of the actual skirmishes on the day of battle.

Third:The Hon. Bernard Coggins taking a break.

Fourth: Bruce McElroy, "commander" of the Southern Forces that day welcomes General Nathan Bedford Forrest's niece (or granddaughter) to the reenactment.

Bottom: A "field commander" inspects his troops before the battle begins.

Thanks to Larry Johnson and Jim Greene for the photos.

BCR 1954 Battle Reenactment Continued

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More Belles and Beaus. Seemed that the festivities were almost non-stop in the days leading up to the reenactment. The whole town and some nearby towns were anticipating the big day.

Battle planning was detailed by the group in photo 3.

The courtesy stand was kept open and had information for passersby.

Bernard and Paul Sr. were always having a good time!

All photos courtesy of Larry Johnson

Confederate Ball, June 5, 1954

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These photos are of the Confederate Ball, held in the BHS gym on June 5th, the night before the re-enactment of the BCR battle in 1954. These are some that Larry Johnson sent to be included in the" week in photos" of the battle. Some well-known local people can be recognized. A band from Memphis provided the music for the ball.

Keep the "skeer" on 'em

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At the battle at Brice's Crossroads on June 10, 1864, General Forrest gave the Union cavalry one of the classic beatings of the Civil War. The following morning, Forrest said to his artillery commander "the way to whip an enemy is to get 'em skeered, and then keep the skeer on 'em". He then chased them all the way to Memphis.

That was said 144 years ago. The first reenactment of that battle was on June 6, 1954, and quite a few of the Bearcats that helped with the battle at that time are still around.

The "commander" of the forces, Bruce McElroy and his volunteers pictured above, put on quite a show. Movie studio cameramen were in attendance, and you can suppose footage of the skirmish was used somehow later. We don't have all of the names of the guys in the photo. Maybe someone will remember them. Some of them are...you!

This week we'll post all the photos we have of that event and the Confederate Ball. Hope you see something interesting.

Baldwyn Nicknames -List 3, 4, 5

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The final three. Some of these folks you may not remember, they were adults when we were in our teens.

I think number 242 is wrong - incorrect amphibian and last name spelling. Am I right?

Thanks again to Simon Spight for contributing the lists.

The Caldwell "Haunted House"

By Dave Heflin

The old Caldwell house on Water Street has always been accused of boarding "haints." Most of us have walked around it "safely" in the daylight while peeking in the windows. YEAH, SURE! Admit it, you saw a little more? Plenty of cluttered "treasures" were stuffed around every crevice. The biggest surprise was the ancient Chevrolet sealed in the garage by trees. Mr. Ben owned and operated the Chevy Dealership and Service Center on the future site of Dr. Mitchell Ford's Clinic.

Ben and Olga raised two children, Lucian (b.1903) and younger sister, Kay in this frame house on a large lot next door to the Kirk M. Heflin Sr. homestead. About 1938, Ben completed the construction of a large brick house facing the new Highway 45. Olga opted to allow Ben the total process including completely furnishing it. So goes the story. When the house was completed, she chained the old house doors and left, never to go back. This mystery could be verified if some of you vouched to see clothes in the closets including a military officer's uniform? The rest of the house was also left with supplies in place.

Do you know of the other "haunted houses" in Baldwyn? I think there were at least two more that were categorized as such. Sweet Ms. Ethel Simmons' home on Latimer Street was thought to have some strange powers unknown to "Mortals". Several of us have been trying to recall the others, but can't. We think they were on the south end of town. One that comes to mind was the McKay home on 45 south across from Henderson"s auto dealership. The McKays died suddenly a day or so apart, which led to sinister thoughts from the young folks.

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Photo (1961) also by Dave Heflin. The photo was in color, but converted to B&W to add the mood of gloominess as we remember it, and also an apparition can be seen in the right window. Some kids would swear they saw unknown figures moving about inside the house after dark. Some were even "chased away" by ghoulish figures outside.

I was recently told the old 1936 Chevrolet mentioned above was bought from Lucian and restored by Mr.Leland Roberts. It is in immaculate "show condition" today and was featured in a Baldwyn Weekly News article that was posted on this blog on 12 April. -CH

Baldwyn's Basketball Rivals: The Celtics

By Larry Johnson

1936 was the middle of the depression and hard times were everywhere. My Dad got out of high school after being a star basketball player for the only high school (at that time) in San Diego, California. He briefly went to Southern Cal to play basketball, but there was not enough money to survive. Leaving there he went to work for a bank, with his job mostly being playing basketball in the bank league. Alas, the bank fails and he's at loose ends again.

He starts to travel with a California barnstorming pro team that would arrive at different towns to play the local all stars and get paid with a portion of the gate. For the next several years this is how he survived, playing all over the country with different teams. In later years he remarked that he had played basketball in every state in the union plus Canada and Mexico. Two of the teams that he played with relate to the rest of the story. "Olsen's Terrible Swedes" were well known throughout the country at that time, and from them he got his nickname of "Swede" Johnson. The Pasadena Majors, with whom he played for a short time, were very popular in the West and with them he met a fellow player from Baldwyn, Forrest Grisham.

So, sometime in 1936, through correspondence with Forrest Grisham, Dad found out that a new highway, US 45, was being built from Corinth south through Baldwyn, and that the Baldwyn Athletics needed him as a player. If he could come, a job with the construction company building the highway could be had.

So this is how I came into existence. He came, met my Mother, worked on the highway, and played for the Baldwyn Athletics. He came sometime in 1936, and I think the two clippings are from early 1937. At that time colleges played semi-pro teams and playing Ole Miss was special to the Athletics because B.E. (Country) Graham, in later years the Ole Miss coach, and at the time the leading scorer in the SEC, was from Baldwyn. He was held to 4 points as the A's won. Other Ole Miss players of note are "Buster" Poole and "Bruiser" Kinard. From the Baldwyn roster, the full names I recognize are Milton Steele, my dad, and Tom Gordon.

The other clipping just serves as evidence that, yes, the Celtics did come to Baldwyn and play in the original gym that was owned by the merchants of the town and later burned. (Remember that there were no organized professional leagues and the Celtics, though famous, were barnstormers too). The local Baldwyn Athletics was an economic force, drawing people in from all around transported by the myriad of yellow school buses.

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Click on images to enlarge.

"Uncle" George Pearce, Baldwyn Icon

From the Memphis Commercial Appeal, about 1938(?):

Booneville, Miss. Jan 4. -

Fifty one years is a long time to work on one job, but that's the record ''Uncle'' George W. Pearce, porter, holds at the Home Hotel in Baldwyn, Miss. “Uncle George” is in his 89th year and has worked as porter and dinner-bell ringer there since 1896. During that time he has witnessed many changes and says, "times and folks are much better" than they were when he was young.

Recalls Battle

He recalls hearing his parents tell about the battle and the big guns at (Brices) Cross Roads, which was not far from his home at that time, and says "I was six years old then and I 'members hearin' them guns.'' This would make him 91, but 88 years is as far back as he says he can recall. When ''Uncle George” first went to the hotel he was given a fine Prince Albert suit which he wore with pride for many years. He grew in favor with the hotel guests and says he “came acrost” lots of travelers that “was hard to please, but none of 'em ever kicked on me or complained. Many a time they'd leave a pocket book under the pillow and write me a note to save it for 'em- and I did it, too" he said.

The railroad station in Baldwyn is near the hotel, and for many years, "Uncle George" used a two-wheeled cart for baggage of the guests. “Mr. Franklin Roosevelt came through here one time, “Uncle George” says, "but he didn't git off the train, so I didn't git to carry his baggage".

Looks to Good Book

Uncle George has rung the dinner gong at the hotel for 51 years, and if he should happen not to be at the post when it is time to ring the bell and someone else assumes that duty, he hurries there and rings it over again.

Many things of international note that are happening in the world today are "right there in de Good Book for folks to read" according to "Uncle George”. '' There won' t be no end of time until they gets peaceful all over the world" he declares. He says the preachers preach better than they used to.

Folks at the hotel were "sorter worried" about "Uncle George" last week when "hit seemed like my heart was gwine to take out on me'' he said. But he's back at his post, jolly as ever.

"I was sick with rheumatism when I first come here" he said. "But they gimme good care and a good livin' and I got well. I like my work and expect to be here 'til I cain't work no more."

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Claude Gentry wrote of the times that Uncle George, who was the son of slaves, and another former slave, Joe Stubbs, would sit around the hotel and sing some mournful songs; George played the fiddle, and Joe played the banjo. Joe was forcefully taken from the Stubbs plantation by Union forces and used somehow in the battle of Brice's Crossroads, but didn't go with the troops on their escape back to Memphis.

When Uncle George died in 1949, he was 100 years old. All the stores in town closed for his funeral.

His beautiful handwriting in the hotel log recorded the weather for that day, and the guests’ names were entered in Old English style. The hotel register can be seen at the Brice’s Crossroads Museum.

Many of you do not remember this old Home Hotel servitor. He was one of the most respected citizens of the town. The only time I recall being in his close presence was while sitting for a traveling photographer at the hotel when I was eight. The blinding lights and impatient photographer were more than I could stand, but Uncle George was distracting and prompting me in a way that we got the pictures right. –Carl H.

Thanks to Simon "Buddy" Spight for the material.