The sky was clear and the lights from the city of Macon lit up Coleman Hill brightly. There were about a half dozen other familiar cars parked along the curb that Friday night. It was a popular “parking spot” among dating couples in the late 1950’s.

Suddenly the officer’s light flashed into Jack’s face and the knock on the window startled Jack and his friend. Just as soon as he rolls the window down, the officer begins chewing out the couple for parking along this popular public street. “I’ve a good mind to call your parents! Where do you live? What’s your telephone number”, the officer asked. Jack quickly responded, “I live in Twiggs County. My folks don’t have a telephone”. The officer continued, “What about her”? No sooner than Jack could answer that she, too, lives in Twiggs County, the officer fired back, “Then you need to get out from here and go back to Twiggs County. Don’t let me catch you chillun parked up here again.”

Whee! That was a close call! During times like these, living at Myrick’s Mill, 20 miles into the country down a long dirt road without a telephone wasn’t all bad. It gives a kid time to grow up, to learn what’s appropriate and what’s not, without parents always hearing about it, especially from a police officer.

Before Jack headed back home, he went by Ed Speirs Artic Circle to get a coke and some of those original and famous battered french fries. In addition to Felton Harris, the Fonz of the Artic Circle, driving his 1950 spit-shined black caddy, it was a pretty safe bet that there would be some Twiggs County folks hanging around Ed Speirs on a Friday night.

The old Jeffersonville Road drive-in eating establishment was a favorite hangout for teenagers and particular those from Twiggs County. Fats, the curbside waiter, was especially accommodating to Twiggs County folks. It seems that the Macon teens would get a beer or two, begin driving around the neighborhood and eventually start spinning tires and otherwise attracting unwelcome attention to themselves and the establishment. Mr. Ed himself occasionally had to come to the parking lot and ask them to leave the premises. Most Twiggs County teens had a pretty good reputation for behaving; remaining quiet and respecting Fat’s risk of selling beer to minors. It was a good arrangement for both Fats and his young Twiggs County customers, a kind of mutual understanding. Fats got a good tip for the illegal service and the Twiggs folks otherwise behaved themselves. I guess there was a good mutual understanding. Mutual understandings are important. The best are those that evolve naturally from mutual respect. In the absence of respect, mutual benefit or mutual fear seems to serve well, too.

The Pig-N-Whistle and the Varsity were also popular places on Friday and Saturday nights, but somehow the crowd there just didn’t seem as friendly. On this particular Friday night Jack, traveling alone, backed into a parking place to provide a better view of the place, ordered a coke then slumped into his seat to watch the coming and going. Duane Eddy’s popular “Rebel Rouser” was blaring over the Varsity’s PA system as car loads of smart aleck city kids were cruising around the parking lot at the varsity, showing off their cars with a guttural rattle coming from the exhaust. Cruising, seeing and being seen, I guess. A lot of folks seemed to know one another, but Jack didn’t see a familiar face anywhere. That’s often the way it was at the Varsity.

Oscar Leverette, Macon’s tough and well known motorcycle officer, appears and circles slowly through the parking lost a couple of times. It’s was amazing how reckless cruising, loud conversations and rowdy laughter would go dim when Oscar Leverette arrived. It’s time to go. Ed Speirs is a friendlier place with familiar faces.

Arriving for a quick stop at the Artic Circle before going home, Jack pulls up beside Dan’s classy white, 2-door hardtop, 57 Chevrolet. Dan was a high school classmate that seldom dated the local girls, although there were plenty of good choices available. Somehow or other, he always seemed to have a good looking Macon girl beside him, often a different one, every Friday night at Ed Spears. Tommie and Gena are parked on the other side of Dan; then further along was Wayne and Suellyn sitting so close they almost appeared as one.

Most of us could not understand why no one ever asked Dan the secret to his success in finding so many beautiful girls. Curiosity finally won and I finally asked how he managed such. “My cousin fixes me up”, Dan responded. Then I asked, “ Is your cousin a girl”? “Yep”, he responded. “Well, get me a date with your cousin”, I quickly said. Based on the selection arranged for Dan, I thought his cousin had pretty good taste, and odds were in my favor that she wouldn’t be a bad looker herself.

Well, my buddy responded by setting up that Sunday night blind date. Dan was quite fond and protective of his favorite cousin and wanted to ensure good behavior, I guess. First of all, he and his girlfriend went along, making it a double date. In additional, he took all of us to Tattnall Square Baptist Church for the evening service. I don’t remember a thing the preacher said. It was my first and last blind date! Hers, too! Bad experience? Not exactly.

I removed my blinders, married her about 8 months later, and took her back to college with me. That blind date has endured for 42 years. Some might say that Janice still has her blinders on!

©2003 - William C. Humphries, Jr.