.>>>>>The story of A Place Called Shirttail Creek.>>>>>The poem passes over this tiime, and actually doesn’t pick up again until January of 1961, but there was so much that I remember happening in 1960. What you read, is real.>>>>>>Okay. Bob and I are working at a veneer mill in Willow Creek, up in Trinity County in Northern California. Did I mention that Bob was a womanizer? He was the innocent cause of the first event. I noticed some guy talking to the lathe operator and looking around at the green chain. Then he came over by me and said something threatening about Bob,and me before he left.and I told him we went to the only cafe open late at night, and to come see us there.When we broke for lunch at 7:00, the lathe operator told Bob and me that Ray, the man hwo had talked to him, said he was going to shoot a couple of beatniks that night. He also told us that Ray had a gun in his pocket.>>>>>>Bob drove us to the cabin we were staying at and I got my Ruger single-action 22. long pistol. I wrapped it in a jacket(In early July on a hot night,) and kept it beside where I worked. At midnight, the crew wanted to walk out to the cars with us in the midst of them. I told them to take Bob out with them and I’d follow. I didn’t want to be watching over my shoulder all the time, And while it was only a 22.,, I was good with it. I practiced a lot, drawing and firing. So I walked out alone, gun tucked in my waist. Nothing. The cafe had a long counter with afive or six stools that were behind the door when it opened, and I sat down in the stool closest to the door. which was glass, while the rest of the crew went to the back, like always.>>>>>>Now on most crews like those at the mill, there is usually a “clown”. Our crew had one. Ebvery time the door opened I would look around to see who it was. I was drinking coffee, with my left hand (not normal way) to keep my right hand free. All of a sudden the door burst open. and I whirled around to see the “clown” with a sick smile on his face as he looked at the barrel of my pistol. Ray never showed that night, The next day was Saturday of the July Fourth weekend, and I was sitting on a grassy slope outside the cafe when I saw Ray coming toward me. I didn’t have my gun, and the smile on his face didn’r ease my concern. He sat down beside me and told me that when he’d gone back up to town, his friends told him it was a joke they had pulled, telling him that Bob had seduced (not the right word, but GC…. Then he told me he’d been packing heat that night. There was a bit of shock on his face when I told him I knew that he had a gun and, so did I when I came up to the cafe at midnight.>>>>>>We wound up becoming friends, and eventually left town together headed for Montana. And this has been more than enough writing for now. I will pick up the next time inMontana, and another strange event that could have turned ugly. Even deadly. And I sold mygun in Montana.
Good morning, Vagabounds. Here I am on an island near Stavengar, Norway it s about 12 noon on Saturday, I ve already been to Holland and Germany, where I took a train ride to Salgitter-Ringelheim – that was quite an adventure in itseelf – details on another day. I,m overlooking a fiord from my friend. s home and where going to make shish kebab on my frien s balcony.
My friend s name is Marden – he s an Uyghur and we ve been emailing anf skyping for several months and now we ve finally met in person – Marden will write a few words here>’hi vagabounds my name is marden and live in norway.i come from uyghur .
We’ve got Handbell Choir practice this morning. It’s a make-up because of the thunderstorm last Tuesday that knocked out all the lights in the county. We’re playing next Sunday and we need the practice.
Couldn’t help but drop by to say hi to everyone! Glad you are having a good trip Arye. Cool that you are meeting your pen pal.I will slip out quietly now, :-D
Good morning Vagabonds. Slim, I’m sorry I didn’t respond last night, but I didn’t read your post until just now. The seven day forecast here is 103, 106, 105, 103, 107, 109, 107 Saturday thru Friday. I think I’ll stay inside next Thursday.
Speaking for myself, Slim, I always enjoy your stories. You have had an interesting life. While we all have limited memories, and minor mistakes are bound to happen, I have never doubted the truth of anything you have told us. There are times when your storytelling is so vivid that I can almost see the scene and action. And sometimes wish I had been there.
Arye, I hope you are having an absolutely wonderful time. And Marden, welcome to our Village. We’re a varied and interesting group and always looking for new Villagers to join us.
Well for the first time in history, Nik Wallenda made the walk on the high wire across Niagara Falls, last nite, so cool, he is now in the history book!
Thank you, friends, for your comments. I enjoy writing about my adventures because as I do, I see it again in my mind. So many more memories of these occasions; even the mundane parts. Actually, I leave out a lot of the trimmings or these storiesa would be far longer and boring to write. So I pretty much stick to the “action”,and only what minutiae is needed for details. If I were to tell the “whole story” of the summer of 1960, it would, at the very least, novelette size.>>>>>> I have often been told I should write a book about my life, and all the adventures I’ve had. I tell those who say that that I would become tired of writing in a hurry. Bits and pieces? Okay. A complete story? Not likely. But get me a little stoned, and while you would have to work out the proper order, I could sit and talk about my past for hours, each event giving rise to another, which brings up still anothe experience. (See, I tend to be too verbose) :-))
Slim, have you ever thought of having someone record your thoughts. My grandfather was a wonderful storyteller too, and a walking history of my hometown in Oregon. Some students from the local community college made it a project of theirs to interview him and record as many of his memories as they could. He loved it because he loved telling the stories (and my grandmother loved it because she didn’t have to listen to them again for the umpteenth time). Maybe you could interest someone in doing something similar. That way you would enjoy the telling and someone else could do the grunt work of putting it all in order. Tell a few of the same stories you have told us and you would have them hooked, I betcha. (BTW, Grandpa Lyle was in his 80’s when the kids interviewed him.)
shirttailslim over 12 years ago
Good Morning, Vagabonds.>>>>>>No feedback from last night’s posts?
shirttailslim over 12 years ago
.>>>>>The story of A Place Called Shirttail Creek.>>>>>The poem passes over this tiime, and actually doesn’t pick up again until January of 1961, but there was so much that I remember happening in 1960. What you read, is real.>>>>>>Okay. Bob and I are working at a veneer mill in Willow Creek, up in Trinity County in Northern California. Did I mention that Bob was a womanizer? He was the innocent cause of the first event. I noticed some guy talking to the lathe operator and looking around at the green chain. Then he came over by me and said something threatening about Bob,and me before he left.and I told him we went to the only cafe open late at night, and to come see us there.When we broke for lunch at 7:00, the lathe operator told Bob and me that Ray, the man hwo had talked to him, said he was going to shoot a couple of beatniks that night. He also told us that Ray had a gun in his pocket.>>>>>>Bob drove us to the cabin we were staying at and I got my Ruger single-action 22. long pistol. I wrapped it in a jacket(In early July on a hot night,) and kept it beside where I worked. At midnight, the crew wanted to walk out to the cars with us in the midst of them. I told them to take Bob out with them and I’d follow. I didn’t want to be watching over my shoulder all the time, And while it was only a 22.,, I was good with it. I practiced a lot, drawing and firing. So I walked out alone, gun tucked in my waist. Nothing. The cafe had a long counter with afive or six stools that were behind the door when it opened, and I sat down in the stool closest to the door. which was glass, while the rest of the crew went to the back, like always.>>>>>>Now on most crews like those at the mill, there is usually a “clown”. Our crew had one. Ebvery time the door opened I would look around to see who it was. I was drinking coffee, with my left hand (not normal way) to keep my right hand free. All of a sudden the door burst open. and I whirled around to see the “clown” with a sick smile on his face as he looked at the barrel of my pistol. Ray never showed that night, The next day was Saturday of the July Fourth weekend, and I was sitting on a grassy slope outside the cafe when I saw Ray coming toward me. I didn’t have my gun, and the smile on his face didn’r ease my concern. He sat down beside me and told me that when he’d gone back up to town, his friends told him it was a joke they had pulled, telling him that Bob had seduced (not the right word, but GC…. Then he told me he’d been packing heat that night. There was a bit of shock on his face when I told him I knew that he had a gun and, so did I when I came up to the cafe at midnight.>>>>>>We wound up becoming friends, and eventually left town together headed for Montana. And this has been more than enough writing for now. I will pick up the next time inMontana, and another strange event that could have turned ugly. Even deadly. And I sold mygun in Montana.
arye uygur over 12 years ago
Good morning, Vagabounds. Here I am on an island near Stavengar, Norway it s about 12 noon on Saturday, I ve already been to Holland and Germany, where I took a train ride to Salgitter-Ringelheim – that was quite an adventure in itseelf – details on another day. I,m overlooking a fiord from my friend. s home and where going to make shish kebab on my frien s balcony.
My friend s name is Marden – he s an Uyghur and we ve been emailing anf skyping for several months and now we ve finally met in person – Marden will write a few words here>’hi vagabounds my name is marden and live in norway.i come from uyghur .
davidf42 over 12 years ago
Morning, Vagabonds!
Howdy! Marden. Welcome to Vagabond village!
Good, Slim. Keep it up!
We’ve got Handbell Choir practice this morning. It’s a make-up because of the thunderstorm last Tuesday that knocked out all the lights in the county. We’re playing next Sunday and we need the practice.
MontanaLady over 12 years ago
Good Morning, Slim, Arye, david and All Who Are to Come,
Great story, Slim. I’ll be waiting to hear of your adventures in Montana. Gosh……maybe you’ll talk about some of the places we’ve been……..?
Arye……so good to hear about your adventures, too. Good Day to Marden. Hope you like your visit with Arye!
Got all the way up to 71 yesterday……Woo Hoo!!!
Dry and Dusty Premium Member over 12 years ago
Couldn’t help but drop by to say hi to everyone! Glad you are having a good trip Arye. Cool that you are meeting your pen pal.I will slip out quietly now, :-D
JanLC over 12 years ago
Good morning Vagabonds. Slim, I’m sorry I didn’t respond last night, but I didn’t read your post until just now. The seven day forecast here is 103, 106, 105, 103, 107, 109, 107 Saturday thru Friday. I think I’ll stay inside next Thursday.
Speaking for myself, Slim, I always enjoy your stories. You have had an interesting life. While we all have limited memories, and minor mistakes are bound to happen, I have never doubted the truth of anything you have told us. There are times when your storytelling is so vivid that I can almost see the scene and action. And sometimes wish I had been there.
Arye, I hope you are having an absolutely wonderful time. And Marden, welcome to our Village. We’re a varied and interesting group and always looking for new Villagers to join us.
SWEETBILL over 12 years ago
GOOD AFTERNOON YA’LL
Well for the first time in history, Nik Wallenda made the walk on the high wire across Niagara Falls, last nite, so cool, he is now in the history book!
shirttailslim over 12 years ago
Thank you, friends, for your comments. I enjoy writing about my adventures because as I do, I see it again in my mind. So many more memories of these occasions; even the mundane parts. Actually, I leave out a lot of the trimmings or these storiesa would be far longer and boring to write. So I pretty much stick to the “action”,and only what minutiae is needed for details. If I were to tell the “whole story” of the summer of 1960, it would, at the very least, novelette size.>>>>>> I have often been told I should write a book about my life, and all the adventures I’ve had. I tell those who say that that I would become tired of writing in a hurry. Bits and pieces? Okay. A complete story? Not likely. But get me a little stoned, and while you would have to work out the proper order, I could sit and talk about my past for hours, each event giving rise to another, which brings up still anothe experience. (See, I tend to be too verbose) :-))
shirttailslim over 12 years ago
3:00 P.M. (PDT) Thunder and lightning in the sky. Just hope it will shake loose some rain. We really need it.
shirttailslim over 12 years ago
3:15 WHOOHOO IT IS RAAAIIINING. How long???
JanLC over 12 years ago
Slim, have you ever thought of having someone record your thoughts. My grandfather was a wonderful storyteller too, and a walking history of my hometown in Oregon. Some students from the local community college made it a project of theirs to interview him and record as many of his memories as they could. He loved it because he loved telling the stories (and my grandmother loved it because she didn’t have to listen to them again for the umpteenth time). Maybe you could interest someone in doing something similar. That way you would enjoy the telling and someone else could do the grunt work of putting it all in order. Tell a few of the same stories you have told us and you would have them hooked, I betcha. (BTW, Grandpa Lyle was in his 80’s when the kids interviewed him.)