I moved to Egremont, Mississippi when I was six years old. We lived in the downtown business district, so you could call me a city boy. Egremont is a little hamlet between Rolling Fork and Cary on Highway 61. Before the advent of the interstate highway system through Mississippi, Highway 61 was a major road for north-south travel. Back in 1959, Egremont had two country stores. My family had just purchased one, and we lived in the back of the store. The floor plan in our house was a little bit odd; the designer seemed to have a penchant for doors. There were two doors from the store to the house portion of the building -- one was to the kitchen and the other to a bedroom. Inside the house, one room would open to another, but there was also a very small hallway that connected the bathroom, three bedrooms, and the kitchen. Basically the hall was a small rectangle with five doors. Although there was a front door and a back door, we rarely used either of them if the store was open. We, and any visitors, used the front doors of the store to enter and exit. The store was as much a part of our life as the house, so it was appropriate that they were so interconnected. You entered our home and our life through the store. Our store was Burns' Grocery. This is where I grew up.
From the back door of the house, you stepped into a yard and a nice plentiful garden. The soil was very fertile there because the prior owners had raised quail. The area had been completely enclosed. The quail droppings made for excellent fertilizer. My father was an industrious man who planted various beans and other vegetables. He had a garden that produced throughout the year. My dad’s tomatoes were the best! I remember going out with a salt shaker and picking a vine-ripened tomato and eating it right there in the garden -- with plenty of salt, of course. I did not even bother to wash off the pesticides my dad had used in the garden -- makes me wonder . . . . When we first moved there, the woods were very close behind the house. There were great places to explore for a young boy. I had trees to climb, forts to build, and make-believe battles to wage. Over the years, the woods were cleared and converted to farmland, but none of that could diminish the memories I made there.
Out the front door was the front of the store and Highway 61. Just 10 or 15 yards east of the highway were railroad tracks. When we first moved to Egremont, I really had to adjust to the trains. Those that came through in the middle of the night would vibrate the ground and house, causing me to awaken frightened that the house would fall down. Before long, I got used to the trains and slept through their rumbling past at night. For the trains during the day, we would race out of the house and get as close as possible to the tracks. If we were really lucky, the conductor might see us. At those times, he would throw gum and candy out to us. For a boy that lived in a store full of candy and gum, none tasted as good as that thrown by the conductor -- it was just special to get candy that way. I suppose there were times that he had none, because on occasion, we’d receive only a nice, friendly wave. In hopes that the statute of limitations has run out, I can admit that I remember putting pennies on the track for the train to flatten. Sometimes we could find them after the train went by, but at other times they were lost in the weeds. I was told I would be in big trouble if my penny caused the train to wreck. I stopped doing that for a while, but like any young boy, I wondered how they would know it was my penny that caused the wreck. I resumed putting pennies on the tracks. Thank goodness there were no train wrecks in Egremont!
In the house next to us lived the Williams. Mr. Williams was a farm manager and Mrs. Williams was one of the lunch-room ladies at school; she also drove one of the school busses. As I grew a little older, Mrs. Williams told me that if I could get up early to ride the bus when she left her house, she would let me be the flag boy. I felt really important as the flag boy. I got to hold that flag, step out of the bus, and guard the way for other children crossing the road. Some were even older than I. Mrs. Williams’s bus would head towards Cary picking up kids between Egremont and Cary along and just off Highway 61. Just north of Cary, the route took us up the east side of Deer Creek heading back to Egremont. If I didn't get up early to ride with her, I would be one of the last picked up. After a while, I didn't get dressed in time to be flag boy and as I got older, I wanted the extra sleep. My school service to the community soon came to an end.
Next to the Williams' house was an equipment yard where farm equipment was stored and assorted barns and sheds were scattered about. On the other side of Burns' Grocery was Egremont Store run by Mr. Smith. He also lived in the back of his store like we did. Years before, his store was a post office and the mail boxes were still there. We had lots of fun going over there to play, opening and closing the boxes. There was mail in some of them that had never been picked up. We probably broke numerous federal statutes taking that mail out. There were houses, stores, barns, woods, and all sorts of things that kept us entertained just on the west side of the highway. Once you crossed the highway, all sorts of other possibilities opened up. We also had the borrow-pits that flanked the highway on both sides. Young boys could really get in trouble in them, especially when it rained and they were full of water!
To the east of the railroad tracks was Deer Creek. There was a bridge over the creek to the road on the other side that ran along the creek north and south. Sojamax grain elevators were between the railroad tracks and the creek to the north. Between the railroad tracks and the creek to the south was a row of houses and at least one church. There would be families with kids who lived there at times, but no one seemed to live there long. Maybe, the houses were too close to the railroad tracks for comfort. So many people came and went that I don't recall many of the people who lived there. The only one I can remember is Cathy Prewitt. She was a pretty girl, or at least I thought so. Although she and I had started first grade together in Yazoo City, I did not remember her from there. She lived in Egremont when she was in fifth grade. I would go over to her house to play, especially when it was raining or too cold to play outside. She had a record player which was impressive to me at the time since we didn't have one. She would play on what I think was waltz music and make me dance with her. I would have been terribly embarrassed if anyone had known about that back then. But, I had a good time dancing with her. Maybe that is why I can remember her. She wasn’t there long before her family moved back to Yazoo City. I remember being sad when she moved.
On the other side of the creek lived both the Spencer and the Barnett families. The Spencers had two sons -- David and Mike, both younger than I. David Spencer's father built a tree house in a persimmon tree in their back yard so that they would have a special place to play. I really liked going over there. We had lots of fun playing in that tree house. Once we made a cannon out of an old pipe and firecrackers. A hole was drilled in the pipe near the end with a screw cap. We would put a firecracker in the pipe, stick the fuse out the hole, and screw the cap on. Our ammunition was the persimmon fruit from the tree. The fruit was then stuffed in the open end of the pipe just before we lit the fuse. This contraption would shoot the persimmon a great distance. Once when we were in the tree house shooting our cannon, David's father challenged us to try to shoot him with our cannon. He was dancing around about 30 yards from us when we shot. The persimmon hit him right in the middle of his chest. He let out the most god-awful scream – I’m thinking it must have hurt pretty badly. He then warned never to shoot at a person again -- it was dangerous! What was he saying? He was the one who told us to shoot him in the first place! He must not have thought our aim was good. The Spencers moved from Egremont while we were still fairly young, but they stayed in the area and continued to go to school in Rolling Fork.
The Barnetts had several kids, but the two boys were Randy and Robert. At the time, we referred to them as Randy Carl and Robert Lynn. Randy was a year or two older than I while Robert was a year younger. We played together a lot. I was good friends with both boys. We played a lot of baseball together, hanging out at home and in organized sport. Randy and I had a thriving business empire going for a while. We caught little turtles in the creek and sold them at school for 10 cents each. We had a small plywood boat. It was fairly sea-worthy so we would paddle into the creek and catch the turtles with a net. Once when I was plying my trade, I maneuvered the boat among some old dead trees in the water. I look up and looming over me was a huge water moccasin coiled up on a dead tree limb. It was eye level with me, directly over the bow of the boat. Someone was surely looking over me that day, for if the snake had dropped off the tree limb, it would have fallen into the boat with me. To say I was scared would be a gigantic understatement. I paddled that boat faster than I had ever before. Once I made it safely to shore, I vowed never to catch another turtle; that lasted for a couple of weeks. The positive side of all of this was that we made enough money to buy Mother's Day presents for our mothers that year. I still remember the look on my mother’s face when she opened that talcum powder from me. She was very pleased.
Robert and I played Little League baseball together. While I played first base, I believe he was a shortstop. I admit that he was better than I in the field, but I think I was a better hitter. We won some games and lost some games. It was just fun to have something to do in the summer. Coach Cain was our coach. To get to practice and games sometimes proved to be a challenge. We were a bit creative. At times we hitch-hiked, but most of the time we could just catch a ride with someone we knew who stopped at the store. Often it would be a farmer heading into town; we would just hop into the back of the pickup. Later, I fixed up my brother's old moped, and I could use it to go to practice. The moped was my ride up and down the road on the other side of the creek. It wasn’t exactly highway worthy, and I surely wasn’t licensed to drive. I would ride the moped to Cary to go to Boy Scout meetings and just to visit with friends. That moped was quite trustworthy until I got my driver's license, and I felt that I no longer needed it. Sadly, the Barnetts moved away from Egremont and the area. Once during college, I remember seeing Robert at an SIA football game. That was the last time I saw him. Robert has reconnected through our Facebook reunion page and so has David Spencer. I saw David last year; I have hopes of seeing Robert this year.
The Williams -- our next door neighbors -- had grandchildren who would often come to visit. Eddie Flowers was a year older than I was and Ricky was two years younger. When they were around, we would spend a lot of time playing on the farm equipment. That was such fun. I also remember us playing in a barn that held cotton seed. We made tunnels in the seeds and would sink down in it as though it were sand on the beach. Of course, as with most fun things there was a downside. We would itch for days after our adventures. It seemed that there was always something to do. I rarely remember being bored. We would play touch football in the Williams side yard and play hide-and-seek when it started getting dark. We had weekly wienie roasts during the summer. That was always fun. The Williams had a big cottonwood tree in their front yard. There was a utility pole nearby and there was a guy-wire running through the tree to the ground. We would climb up into the tree, scoot out onto a limb, grab ahold of the guy-wire, and slide down the wire. For protection, a heavy piece of cloth was wrapped against our hands as we sailed down the wire. It was such fun. The Flowers moved to California for a few years before moving back to Rolling Fork. It seemed that no one stayed in Egremont for long, except us.
Do kids in the country still get to do the kinds of things that we did as kids? Egremont was a fun place to grow up! And, I have great memories that I will cherish forever.
What was it like to grow up in your neighborhood?
by Kenneth Burns
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