Characters I Have Known: Reprise

My Grandfather, Decola Franklin, apparently enjoyed stories too. In the mid to late 1970s he published a series of stories in The Dawson Springs Progress. I am sure at the time he had the same vision for his stories as I do about this blog; and definitely had a larger readership. Nevertheless, aside from family photo albums, a view old reel to reel movies, and of course family stories; his own written tales are some of the only ways that I have come to know him. Decola died in 1978 before I was born. In so many ways over the years I have wanted to know more about this man, so these stories printed in the newspaper were jewels to me. From these stories I picked up that he and I had at least one thing in common; a sense of humor!

My Grandfather was born in December of 1920, the second child of Chesley and Orva Teague Franklin. His older brother died as an infant and he grew up with one sister Wetona. Decola went to school in Nortonville, a community very close to Dawson Springs, until his later high school years; when he attended Dawson Springs High School. He graduated in 1939. Decola received a teaching degree from Lindsey Wilson College in Colombia, Kentucky. When the United States entered World War II he enlisted to serve in the Navy, and spent his time in the service on a Mine Sweeper in the South Pacific and I am told saw quite a bit of action.

After the war he returned to Dawson Springs, he taught at Nortonville High School for a short time, until he joined his father in the family business of running the Chesley Franklin Coal Company and later the Decola Franklin Coal Company. This he did until the early 1970s.

My Grandfather's stories were titled: Characters I have Known. Today I would like to paraphrase one of those stories...I don't think he would mind.

Before Decola was deployed, the Navy sent him to New York City for a period of time. From what I understand; because he had attended college he was eligible to teach training classes, I think that this is where those classes took place. Regardless, the Navy had many sailors staying in the city.

At that time in Dawson Springs the mayor was Mr. Archie Purdy, a successful business man with a daughter, Cecil Mae. Cecil Mae was a few years older than Decola and was working for a modeling agency in New York City. As the story goes she had had pictures published in the likes of Vogue Magazine. Well, Mayor Purdy was going to visit his daughter in New York and he mentioned it to his good friend Chesley(Decola's father) in town. Chesley was delighted with the idea and told Mr. Purdy that he should try to get in touch with his son Decola while he was there. He knew Decola well and quickly agreed that this was a good idea and assured Chesley that he would contact Decola as soon as he got into New York City.

Upon arriving he rang him and invited he and some of his friends out for a nice dinner if they could break away. Excited to see a familiar face Decola accepted the offer. When he rejoined his friends he told them all that the Mayor of his hometown was going to be in New York visiting his daughter, a model, and he had offered to take them all to dinner. Now who could refuse an offer like this?

My Grandfather and his friends met Mayor Purdy and Cecil Mae at the decided time. Mayor Purdy looked very distinguished and Cecil Mae was gorgeous. The two escorted the gentlemen to dinner and they all had a wonderful time.

Eventually the night came to a close and they all bid farewell. As Decola and his buddies were walking away one of them commented that it was really something for the Mayor of his hometown to meet up with him and take him out of his vacation. And especially for his daughter, a model, who must have been very busy, the group was equally impressed that she would make time for him as well.

My Grandfather agreed with a proud smile but admitted later that he never told any of them the size of Dawson Springs.

The Waiting Place

Sometimes you just have to wait...

As life zooms by we find ourselves waiting and waiting and waiting. Long lines, being put on hold, waiting for an elevator or to get your hair cut. Waiting to turn sixteen, then eighteen, then twenty one. No matter what we do we are always going to have to wait.

Doctor Seuss describes it best in the book Oh the Places You'll Go, if you haven't read this ageless children's book buy a copy. Then memorize it. This book gives the reader such a neat way of looking at life's journey. Here is a excerpt of this piece of writing that discusses waiting:



You can get so confused that you’ll start in to race down long wiggled roads at a break-necking pace and grind on for miles across weirdish wild space, headed, I fear, toward a most useless place.

The Waiting Place…for people just waiting.

Waiting for a train to go or a bus to come, or a plane to go or the mail to come, or the rain to go or the phone to ring, or the snow to snow or waiting around for a Yes or No or waiting for their hair to grow. Everyone is just waiting.

Waiting for the fish to bite or waiting for wind to fly a kite or waiting around for Friday night or waiting, perhaps, for their Uncle Jake or a pot to boil, or a Better Break or a string of pearls, or a pair of pants or a wig with curls, or Another Chance. Everyone is just waiting.



We've all been there, the lobby of our life, the dead time. The time when we wait. We wait for answers, a break, we just wait. And sometimes after those periods we realize that what we were waiting for, might not have been as important as the waiting.

I experienced one of those periods that was all to horrifying at the time but also proved to be a period of time that shaped my life in more ways that one. A time when I was able to renew old relationships and settle old scores. A time that seemed to have been set aside just for me, to wait. So I waited, and while I waited I got to spend a year of my life with my Granny that turned out to be the last year of her life. I brushed up on my Canasta skills as we played game after game and learned a lot about her life and plenty more about my own. During this time I learned not to get in any hurry, to try to take my time and enjoy life moment by moment and not day by day. Waiting for me wasn't fun all the time, but it was valuable. Waiting helped.

If you break life down into sections, you might find some of your own waiting times. It might occur to you that you spent some time in that lobby of life too. Was it all that terrible? If you are ever there again make sure you enjoy the scenery...you never know, you might be waiting for a reason.

Home

I have lived in Austin, Texas for over a year after moving here from Nashville, Tennessee. Man, do I have some stories about these two cities. They are both great towns and the destination to many pickers and grinner's too. In my own time I nestled into my own niche in both of these music capitols and loved every minute of it. However, when asked where I am from I never hesitate to say Dawson Springs, Kentucky.

I grew up in the town of Dawson Springs, Kentucky. Nestled into the curves and turns of the Tradewater River this piece of land has been home to Indians, pioneers, farmers, entrepreneurs, and a Governor.

Upon entering Dawson Springs from any direction you are greeted by a sign that reads: "Dawson Springs, Ky "A very special place." No truer words have ever been spoken. On my way back home from Nashville(now from the airport)when I reach Hospital Hill and make my decent into town, I admit that my eyes get misty at the thought of being Home. Driving through town I can usually name the folks that live in each home along the way with a smile; and a big wave will extend if they happen to be in the yard.


Since I usually make it home around the holidays I know that I am not the only one who has come from far and wide to be in this little town for a few days. Around these times this town fills up with cars with out of state plates.

I think a lot of life's journey consist of going home. I am so familiar with the streets and faces of this town that I can't help but smile when I think of it. Dawson Springs to me represents a Modern day Mayberry. This is a place that people really care when they ask: How are you? These are the people that know your life story without you having to tell them. The folks that remember your grandparents even if they have been gone for years.

Kentucky's Governor is a favorite son of this town and a few short years ago the towns people rallied around one of their own to help elect him to the highest office in the Commonwealth.

This town has a riveting history that dates back to 1874 when it was officially established. It was named Dawson when the railroad came through and town leader and major land owner's name was given to adorn the first depot. As the railroad began to draw it's lines across the land railroad workers in Dawson claimed that the water from Washington Irving Hamby's well eased their aches and pains and thus began Mr. Hamby's wheels turning. These were the sparks that lead to the spa era and the addition of Springs to the town's name.



People came from far and wide to reap the benefits from the spring water and hotels with sprawling porches, orchestras and beautiful parks began to pop up through out the town. Hotels with names like: The Arcadia, The New Century, The Summit, and what a grand time it must have been as the town rode high.


In the 1930's the depression hit and put an abrupt end to the spa era and times were hard in the region I called home; just as they were all across the country. My Grandfather (Step) Buddy Cato, recalled the hard times vividly. He said no one bought suits for graduation, they borrowed them. Times were hard, but as always, they made it through.

When the United States entered World War II many Dawson Springs boys enlisted and where spread across the globe protecting our country and others. The war and the increased need for coal to move supplies created another boom and the town began to crawl out of the depression. My Great Grandfather, Chesley Franklin, was one of the few people in the area that owned coal mines. These times proved to be good ones, and when the veterans of World War II came home, they settled in, built homes and started families; and the rest is history.

I don't think President Obama will mention Dawson Springs in his address tonight. But he should. And other towns like it. These small towns represent everything that is still good and decent out there. These are the places where a family of four sits around a table to eat dinner every night. Dawson Springs is a place that's faith is strong, a group of true blue Americans...and I do mean blue. Do I even have to make reference to the Kentucky Wild Cats?

Dawson Springs...why hasn't anyone written an anthem for you? Dawson Springs...my beautiful home.

Gone to Carolina in My Mind

Have you ever really over thought something?

Something that makes you upset or mad...something that you can't change. I think our generation expects quick fixes and solutions. We want answers and we want them now! Regardless, as The Stones so eloquently put it: "You can't always get what you want...you get what you need."

Alzheimers Disease affects approximately five million people in the United States; a disease that none of us are a stranger to. Alzhiemers seems to come like a thief in the night to take away our memories and our bearings; and in many ways I feel that it is a disease that can be just as painful for family members as it can be for the victim.

My family as millions of other American families is experiencing Alzhiemers disease among one of our own. And as the disease becomes more of the elephant in the room; I have read more and more in an effort to learn as much as I can about Alzhiemers and it's effects. I am never pleased. I did however recieve beautiful insight from the novel by: Lisa Genova, Still Alice. The novel takes you on a journey through the mind of someone with Alzhiemers; this gave me an idea of what it might be like for the person that I have been so concerned about. Pick it up if you are dealing with the same type of situation in your own life.

Nevertheless, I turn to music for solace in so many personal situations. Music seems to be my generations poetry. Through lyric and note I can usually come to terms with whatever is breaking my heart. And that is just it. Alzheimers, just like so many other diseases, is a heart breaker.

The following are the lyrics to one of James Taylor's greatest songs: Gone to Carolina in my mind; I have highlighted the last verse since it seemed to be so relative to Alzhiemers. I know that Mr. Taylor did not write this song to illustrate the onset of a terrible disease, but I am sure he didn't rule out the possiblity that listeners and fans might interperet their own meanings to his verses. That we might love his song as much as he did and give it meanings that could only apply to how it touched us. Gone to Carolina in My Mind debuted in 1968 long before I was born, but it's message, however it may be interpreted still pleases the ear.

Gone to Carolina
By: James Taylor

In my mind I'm goin' to Carolina
Can't you see the sunshine
Can't you just feel the moonshine
Ain't it just like a friend of mine
It hit me from behind
Yes I'm gone to Carolina in my mind

Karen she's a silver sun
You best walk her way and watch it shinin'
Watch her watch the mornin' come
A silver tear appearing now
I'm cryin' ain't I
Gone to Carolina in my mind

There ain't no doubt it no ones mind
That loves the finest thing around
Whisper something soft and kind
And hey babe the sky's on fire,
I'm dyin' ain't I
Gone to Carolina in my mind

In my mind I'm goin' to Carolina
Can't you see the sunshine
Can't you just feel the moonshine
Ain't it just like a friend of mine
It hit me from behind
Yes I'm goin' to Carolina in my mind

Dark and silent late last night
I think I might have heard the highway calling
Geese in flight and dogs that bite
Signs that might be omens say I going, going
I'm gone to Carolina in my mind

With a holy host of others standing around me
Still I'm on the dark side of the moon
And it seems like it goes on like this forever
You must forgive me
If I'm up and gone to Carolina in my mind

In my mind I'm goin' to Carolina
Can't you see the sunshine
Can't you just feel the moonshine
Ain't it just like a friend of mine
It hit me from behind
Yes I'm gone to Carolina in my mind
Gone to Carolina in my mind
Then I'm on to Carolina in my mind
Gone to Carolina in my mind
Gone - I'm gone - I'm gone
Say nice things about me
'Cause I'm gone south
Carry on without me
'Cause I'm gone

Facebook. Where can you beat it?

Has Facebook taken over our lives or has it enhanced them?

In my opinion it has made some aspects of my social life a little easier, but the jury is still out. Lend me your thoughts...

I became a Facebook member in 2008. Until then I was a member of Myspace.com. A good friend encouraged me to come on board with Facebook...and has it been a ride!

This network has it's own language, and tones. There are Facebook romances and Facebook fights. It seems to be an ever-changing and ever-improving social network and I will have to say that it has helped me to keep up with friends, relatives and classmates.

It is so much easier to write on someones wall than to pick up the phone and call when it has been too long. And on the receiving end it is great to get those messages from friends that you haven't talk to. This year will be my high school class's ten year reunion and in an effort to wrangle all twenty eight of us in, to start the contact and planning process I have been able to start a class page through Facebook that I can facilitate through my own account. That's a big help!

There is the option to post messages on someones wall or for more private content you can send a message to their inbox, which is essientiall a Facebook e-mail. For the frequent Facebookers you can post an update on what you are doing every five seconds for all your friends to see if you wish. These updates may include a range of content from, I am getting a haircut, to, I'm just about to be wheeled into surgery!

Did I mention pictures! Wow, where else can you have a photo album that only has good photos. Yes that's right, you get to pick and choose. What's even more fun is looking at other peoples photos, especially if you haven't seen them in a while. I have some friends that have a cute little boy and I am getting the chance to watch him grow through Facebook photos, whereas I am not able to see him in person as frequently. These photo albums allow users to see what their friends did this past weekend, and in a sense be more involved in their lives, virtually. I know it sounds scary, but many of us are guilty.

As for me...

Facebook has given me the forum to catch up with old friends, relatives,and classmates. It has also been a wonderful tool for me to network with new friends and collegues in Austin. I don't post things on my own wall frequently but I do comment on friends pages a great deal. Whether it be on their photos, or their post it makes me feel connected and in a sense we are able to have a conversation via the web.

I do keep updated photos, and dated albums to help show my Facebook friends who I am, and what I am about. And in turn I enjoy viewing other peoples photos. I even go so far as to think that Facebook is a good place to store digital photos.

There are all sorts of applications that are associated with Facebook that allow you to interact with your friends in a more gaming sense. I am only a member of Farmville, which much to my dismay was quite addictive. An although I don't devote a great deal of time to Farmville, it is a pretty cool game. There are others that compare such as: Cafe` World, Farm Town, and Mafia Wars, just to name a few.

Since it reaches so many people it is a prime place to advertise. There are a constant stream of advertisements that I view on Facebook daily. Some that apply to me and some that don't, but they are viewed just the same.

Regardless of what your use for Facebook is, you can so easily make it apart of your daily routine and it's only true down fall is that it sucks you in and can be time consuming. That said, in my opinion, the pros out weigh the cons on this one!

In closing...

Dear Facebook:

Thanks for everything!

All the best,

Jonathon Storms,
A Loyal Friend

Our Very Own Rosie

People coming of age during World War II were labeled members of the greatest generation. The war sent our military all over the world not only to protect our freedom and liberties but also to protect all humanity from discrimination and destruction. Most specifically my great grandparents had four members of their immediate family that served in the war and for the war effort. They had two sons that enlisted and served in the United States Army, Raymond and William Russell, and two daughters, Rudell and Brunette Russell who took up the cause in the factory and the shipyard to do their part. Brunette was my Nannie, young and beautiful she headed to Evansville, Indiana to Republic Aviation to work as a riveter. Her older sister Rudell had already been there for a while working as a welder in the shipyard. Nannie was trained to become a riveter, similar to Rosie the Riveter.
Republic Aviation was built in 1942 on Evansville's North side, the factory's goal was to build the P47 Thunderbolt; a nimble fighter aircraft. The factory produced around eight thousand jobs and built half of the P47 Thunderbolts that flew in the skies over Europe during World War II.
When I think back on good memories of Nannie and stories that she shared with us, I always remember her talking fondly about the years she spent in Evansville working. She and my Great Aunt Rudell (who later became Rudell Clay) stayed with their Uncle and Aunt, and in their off time helped out with the housework, and watching their young cousin. They also found time to hit up the stores, and shop for new dresses. One particular story that Nannie told a few times with a laugh I will share:

Nannie was from our home town of Dawson Springs, Kentucky, which is a very small place. When she left for Evansville her Dad gave her a roll of quarters to keep in her purse for protection. One day while she and her sister were getting off a bus they were approached by a friendly sailor. Shortly after some guys came up and began to get rough with them. Quickly she remembered the roll of quarters in her purse. She swung her purse around and hit one of the bullies and before she could make it to the next, they had quickly headed in a different direction. She saved the day.

Nannie saved the day in so many ways over the course of her life. After the war she returned to Dawson Springs and married my grandfather Decola Franklin, who had served in the U. S. Navy on a Mine Sweeper in the South Pacific.
They had two daughters, Patricia and DeNell ( my mom). Nannie was always finding ways to do nice things for others and contribute to some cause all her life, just as she did back in the early forties. That is one of the reasons I know first hand those people truly were a great generation, because she was so great. As a group the majority of those people stepped up to the task of supporting or serving their country at great sacrifices to their personal lives. She always spoke fondly of those years during the war, and I felt the need to share a little about her service as a tribute to her. Nannie passed away in 1995, her name was Brunette Russell Franklin Cato, and in 1942 she became one of many Rosie the Riveters.

The Message

I'm sorry but you've missed me. Leave a message at the beep.

{Beep.......}

Well it seems that I have missed you, and what timing.

I was really hoping that I could talk to you, but I guess this message will have to do.

You see, I was calling to let you know that I am going to be moving.

Today actually.

I hate to just spring this on you, but it was a spur of the moment decision. In fact, I just decided today.

So I guess this is the last time you will hear from me, unless you plan on making it to Guadalajara.

Yes, that's where I'll be. The plane actually leaves in an hour, and that's why I called. I am leaving the things that belonged to you here on the back porch. The house has been sold to a really nice crippled man that sells crackerjacks out of a vendor in the park. He gave me an offer that I couldn't refuse. He will be moving in on Monday. He said it would take him a while being crippled and all. So that should give you some time to come over and grab these things.

Oh, and by the way, I hope you don't mind but I kept that Sombrero you had. I thought that I could probably use it more that you ever will. I will never forget that night that you got it at Crazy Chi Chi's. What a blast!
So much fun and so many margaritas.

Regardless, I just needed a change of pace, and I found this flyer on my way to work...so I thought what the hay!

Sunny Guadalajara...yeah!

So good luck to you and maybe our paths will cross again.

{Beep........}