September 27, 2010

• The further you go up Paddle Creek.............

   

   

  We moved a lot when I was a kid. Seemed, as I remember, every year or so. We had moved 3 or 4 times by the time I started school in 1953, and I went to 1st grade in Raceland, 2nd in Ashland, and moved back to Raceland for the 3rd. Dad worked for the C&O Railway and was laid off more than he worked so I guess he was always looking for something more affordable on what little money he made.

  In the summer of '57 we moved to Paddle Creek, a little mile and a half long, lane and a half wide country road a little south of Catlettsburg off of US 23. He'd finally found a place he liked, and we lived there til after I graduated high school. It was out of the city and we could have some garden space and keep a little livestock.

  I used to joke with my kids and tell them, you'd better not mess with me, I grew up on Paddle Creek, and the further you go up Paddle Creek, the meaner they get. And I lived in the last three houses up there!

  This is the very end of the road.

  

  

  The first little two bedroom house we moved into used to sit here, right at the base of that hillside. We had lived there for about nine months when the hill started slipping in behind it and was pushing it off the foundation. Tickled mom to death because dad had gotten a bargain (free?) on a 5 gallon bucket of chartreuse green paint and painted all the rooms with it. Kinda made you a little dizzy when you walked in the door!

  

  That's my sister sitting on the porch of the doomed house and me in the side yard holding my first beagle pup, Spike. You can see the muddy hillside in the background.

   

  We were lucky and the second next to the last house on the creek had just became vacant so we got to move right in.

  

  It was a lot nicer and bigger place, but it only had plumbing in the kitchen and heat was a pot bellied stove in the living room. Dad put in a bathroom in exchange for a couple of month's rent and we stayed there about two years.

  

  Me and my buddies used to race tricycles we would 'borrow' down that hill and sleigh ride it in the winter.

  

  Where this nice little garage sits, there used to be a barn, outhouse, chicken coop, pig pen, and rabbit pens. We kept all of them in use, even had a couple of steers. Dad had three gardens and we raised most every thing we needed. Went to the A&P in Ashland every now and then for coffee, tea, flour and sugar.

  

  That's my brother John standing about half way up the bank on the left side of the garage picture. You can see his rabbit pens and part of the old barn in the background

  Must have been late '59 or early '60 that the Martins moved out of the third house from the last on the creek. It had one more bedroom, and already had indoor plumbing upstairs and down, so we moved in there.

  

  We lived in this one til I graduated. I talked to the older lady that lives there and told her I grew up in this house and asked if I could take a few pics. We talked for a bit, she remembered Mrs. Farley, the lady that owned every house on both sides of the creek from the dairy barn on up.

  Her doggie liked me, but I can't say the same about her two grandsons. You can see one of them back by that pickup in the last pic.

  

  

  My dad made these screens on the side porch so mom could can out here in late summers without heating up the house too much. They've been there for 50 years. Wow! They've held up well!

  Didn't realize til I looked at this pic on my puter that Spike is buried up on that bank by that tree where the flowers are growing. Kinda put a tear in my eye.

  While I was taking this pic, the guy by the pickup came over and stood behind me. Didn't say a word, just stood there with his arms hanging limp at his side and staring at me in a slack jawed kinda way. Creepy.

  Wanted to get a pic of the front of the house and this 2nd guy stepped out.

  

  He hollers at me "whudda you takin' pitchers fer, mister?" I swear to God, I heard Dueling Banjos playing in the background somewhere and the hair on the back of my neck stood up!

  I told him I grew up in this house and wanted a few pics for my own memories, and he told me "we don need no pitchers taken here. You best be gittin on, now!"

  No problem, lil buddy!

  Would have liked to seen if my initials were still burned into the inside of the closet door in my old bedroom but with Red Neckerson and TooFast Fletcher hanging around, I might have had to shoot my way out!!!!!!

  Discretion be the better part of valor, Bud!

  Was thinking as I left tho, wonder what they might have growing in that big old windowless root cellar on the back of the house?

  Maybe there was more to that 'the further you go up Paddle Creek' line than I knew?

  

   

   

   

  • 8:18 am
  • 55 Comments