Stories about people places and happenings, growing up at Myrick's Mill
by Billy Humphries

 

 

 


You Don't Need a
Light to Listen
to the Radio


 

 

 

Home

Occasionally over the years, I've been asked if I remembered Mr. Charley, my grandfather. While at four to five years of age, one obviously doesn't remember a lot of things, there were quite a few memorable moments to recall. One of those was crawling up onto his lap as he sat in a giant sized leather covered rocking chair. My son, Richie, now has the chair and it isn't nearly as large as I remember it. Do you reckon it shrunk? Beside the big rocking chair was a big battery radio in a wooden cabinet, sitting on a table at ear level. Pa Pa enjoyed sitting in the big rocker while listening to radio programs, particularly the news and a pair of funny men, Amos and Andy. Of more interest to me was the sound of the William Tell Overture as The Lone Ranger rang out, Hi-i O-o-o Silver-r-r-r, the masked man rides again! Actually seeing as well as hearing the masked man was Pa Pa's dream.

Mr. Charley knew that plans were underway to construct electric lines through the Myrick's Mill community and he had expressed plans to buy a new invention that would be available at just about the same time the electric project was to be completed. The invention was called a television which was similar to a radio but with a picture screen where one could watch Amos and Andy rather than just hear them. He would actually be able to see The Lone Ranger and his horse, Bullet, charging across the badlands instead of just hearing the gallops over the radio. Mr. Charley died in the early fall of 1947 without seeing the dream of television come to Myrick's Mill.

It was Saturday evening in the summer of 1951, when Daddy closed the store for the night and walked up the path to the house. Mamma had supper on the table when he came in and we sat down immediately to eat. We always sat at the table for every meal. Daddy tells Mamma that JC and Thelma invited us over to their house to watch television tonight. Mr. JC and Miss Thelma were the first in the community to get a television; so, they had a lot of company on Friday and Saturday nights. The little picture in the great big cabinet always had a lot of white fuzz or snow on the screen that made the black and white picture hard to see and the screen was rather small. Many of the shows were comedies that included some man standing up telling jokes. Red Skelton was a funny man because he acted out his jokes through characters like Clem Kadiddlehopper, the hobo. Milton Berle was another. I was too young to think Ole Milty was funny but the grown ups liked him. Milty would tell jokes for a while then the jokes were interrupted so he could tell us about Texaco gasoline as they showed the big red star which, of course, was black and white on the television. Stop at the sign of the Star, he'd say. Hey! Do you remember the entertainer with the famous sign off "Good night Mrs. Callabash, where ever you are"; Jimmy Durante was signing off from the evening show. I remember Daddy concluding with "Pappa sure would have enjoyed this television; he had really looked forward to it".

Electricity along with the television brought the world to Myrick's Mill. Probably the greatest change for most was the fact that water could be pumped into the house. Prior to electricity, a family was dependent on drawing water from a well and the bathroom was scattered all over the place; the enamel wash pan for bathing was on a shelf on the back porch, while the john was an outhouse, a little building located out back somewhere. Keeping water buckets filled for the kitchen and the back porch bathing pans was a chore. With electricity, pumps could bring water into the house through pipes directly to the kitchen sink and to the outhouse, which was brought in-house. All bathing and necessary things could be done inside the house. That was particularly convenient and far more comfortable on a cold winter morning. Some folks, I overheard complaining, found that having the john in the house was not completely advantageous, but I won't elaborate.

While having a bath in the house was completely new to many, our family had enjoyed the convenience of indoor plumbing for a long time before electricity. How? Remember, the mill was water powered. So, there was a water pump installed at the mill. Pipes were laid underground and when the mill was running during the day, water was pumped to a huge tank just uphill from our house and Pa Pa's house. Gravity moved the water from the tank to the respective houses. The tank of water would last a couple of days, and then the pump was turned on to fill the tank again.

The millhouse actually had electricity long before the rural electric co-ops brought electricity to the rural areas. During the 1930's, water powered two electric generators used for making ice at the ice plant in a building adjoining the millhouse. The generators also powered electric lights in the mill, although no electric lines were run to service our families' houses. This would have required the mill to run until late at night, and well before light the next day which, in turn, meant paying a worker to monitor the operation. This, I reckon, was considered by Pa Pa and Daddy to be an unnecessary luxury and too expensive. After all, striking a match to light a lamp was a simple chore and the lamp provided all the light needed to watch a radio play.


©2003 - William C. Humphries, Jr.