Christmas

Growing up, we didn't have a lot. I am not saying we were poor, but we definitely had times we did without. But we always had a good Christmas and knew how to do them right. Some of my favorite memories of Christmas in Smut Eye involve a hefty helping of imagination and another of fun.
On one occasion my dad assured me that he had seen reindeer tracks just out front. Upon further inspection, the sighting was confirmed and there were, in fact, reindeer tracks all over the front yard. I also remember him having to call Santa on the phone to tell him I had started questioning his existence and him talking to an elf by the name of Elroy or Leroy, which I am not sure.
We were usually out of school for about two weeks and to a girl with no aunts and uncles and only one set of living grandparents who lived right up the road, that meant lots of time to play. The vacation really began on the day of Christmas when I would call my best friend down the road and compare what we had gotten. Then we would meet up at one or the others' house and spend the night back and forth almost the entire remaining vacation. It would usually end with an amazingly extravagant (well, for kids anyway) New Year's Eve party involving handmade confetti, that we promptly would dustbuster up.
All of that may sound simple or dumb, but I have to tell you, those are where my memories live. I have read many poets who say we live the majority of our lives, comparing experiences and people and places to those same things first experienced in our childhood and fondly hold those childhood memories as better than anything we experience in adulthood. I have to agree in part. I hold those Christmas memories tightly. Those days in Smut Eye on Christmas vacation were definitely some of the best!

Smut Eye Hunting Dogs

The one thing most people know about Smut Eye and the surrounding areas of Bullock County is that the hunting is top notch. People have been coming here for over 100 years, just to hunt Bullock County wildlife. Needless to say, hunting has always been present in my life. I have heard many a story about the old days of hunting, where turkeys where the big game. I can also recall days of shaking squirrel's nests to get them moving. But one of my favorite memories of hunting involves a large group of people and what we call a "deer drive." I had heard the story of my parents and their good friends and neighbors, the Elliotts, going hunting as young couples. My dad and Uncle Mike would be posted at two points on a designated trail, while my mom and Aunt Maryann would be the "dogs" and make noise to move any game along the trail. We would laugh and laugh over Uncle Mike acting out the job the ladies did as "dogs." You see, good hunting dogs were expensive and took special care and time that we didn't have, so they made do.
The day my dad told me they were putting together another drive that spanned a mile or so across neighbors' property lines and involving those neighbors, I was in. I had no desire to kill a deer, I hated watching them cleaning deer, but I had to be involved in the "drive" to experience it first hand.
So here's how it went down. We all met, about 5 groups of two, including Uncle Mike, of course. We went over the trail and the rules. There were a few rules I had already picked up on that were not verbalized:
1. You do not want idiots hunting on a drive with you. Idiots might forget there's someone on the other side of the trail and end up shooting someone.
2. Don't be an idiot yourself and forget there's someone on the other side of the trail, and shoot someone.
The other rules where things like where we were to place ourselves, how long we were to stay on the trail, and how long after Uncle Mike (aka the dog) passed by before we were to shoot at anything.
The day began with excitement over this less stationary way of hunting-I hated sitting completely still in a deer stand. Throughout the hunt, we all listened eagerly for Uncle Mike's yelps and then attentively for any shots that might follow. I think maybe one person got a shot at a deer, but I cannot remember if they actually killed anything. What I do remember is the camaraderie that I felt as we worked as a team hunting and the wonder at how a drive worked as I watched it unfold.
To this day it is still my favorite form of hunting, mainly because you can be doing something without killing a deer and still participate. May sound dweeby, but it was my kind of hunting, focusing on people and fun, and not so much the big kill, although that would have been nice too! Oh, and the next time you really wish you had a hunting dog, you may want to think outside the box-just be careful and make sure you don't take any idiots with you!

Community Painting

Growing up, there were always people gathering at the small stores around Smut Eye. There were a few in the area: Smut Eye Grocery, Johnnie's Grocery, Blues Stand, and a handful of other small ones before my time. I remember walking across the road to Smut Eye Grocery to get Cokes and Sprites for $.35, walking back across to drink them, and walking back to the store to return the bottle for a nickle. I remember riding up to Mr. Johnnie's in the back of the truck to get a Little Debbie cake and drink. I also spent lots of my days there playing with my friends whose grandparents owned the store. There was an awesome dirt pile out front and a greenhouse where we occasionally got plants as presents for friends and family. I even got some fried bologna sandwiches a couple of times from Mrs. Eva.
Each time I stopped at any of the stores, I remember there were people. People who needed a gathering place. I was most familiar with Mr. Johnnie's, whose son, I call Uncle Wiley (He's not really close family, but a close enough friend to make family!). He has recently re-opened his restaurant down the road from my parents' house. He has a lot of the old signs and things from Johnnie's Grocery hanging up around the place. For the last 10 years or so, all but Blues Stand closed, leaving a large gap in the community. When Uncle Wiley re-opened, people were ready for a place to gather. Each Friday and Saturday night, Wiley's Smut Eye Grill is busy with folks from all around coming together to enjoy great BBQ and conversation with whoever happens to be in the restaurant at the time. Sometimes I get to help out by waiting tables and I love it! I get to see loads of folks I haven't seen in years and I get to see them enjoying the company of their neighbors and old friends.
Wiley's showed me how important the common meeting place is for rural Alabamians. Uncle Wiley's success is largely due to his great BBQ, but also has to do with him filling a need in Smut Eye for fellowship. It's what inspired me to go ahead and start to chronicle Smut Eye's history. The longer we wait, the more stories we lose. Just think of all the stories that were told in those old stores!
Here's one Uncle Wiley told me the other day:
Uncle Wiley was just a little boy, his dad a young man, when this took place. An old black man would drift around the area and paint logos and ads on vehicles and buildings. He was really good. Johnnie had just had his truck painted and wanted a few words added to the door to really polish the look. So, he commissioned the man to do the work. He went about his business inside the store. Johnnie's brother stayed outside with the painter. The wandering painter was an amazingly talented man, but could only perform his talent when drunk. So, he pretty much spent all of his money on liquor to get him through the next job, to make more money, to get more liquor-you see the cycle? Johnnie's brother knew this and thought he could have a little fun with the guy. As the painter finished the door, Johnnie's brother asked if he didn't think he could do the other door too. Well, of course he obliged and continued to work. When he finished that door, Johnnie's brother asked him if he didn't think he could do a little something above the wheels on each side. He thought he could handle this job as well, so went to work. After many more "jobs" all over the truck, Mr. Johnnie came out to survey the door he had commissioned to be painted. When he found the entire truck covered in ads and slogans for 24 hour tow service (which he did not actually offer) and his phone number and just about everything else you could think of, he shook his head. He knew what had happened and decided he better settle up with the painter. He asked how much he owed him. The painter said, "Well, Mr. Johnnie, since I did so much work for you, I'll give you a break. I think about $150 will do it." Now that might not sound all that climactic, but $150 was a lot of money back then. All Mr. Johnnie could do was pay and remember to NEVER leave his brother alone with the painter again!

Broken-Down Smut Eye Train

Smut Eye is simple. That's probably why I love it most. The people are simple. They lead simple lives. Their days are simple. You get the picture.
True simplicity of day to day life has almost been completely lost. I can remember all I had to do each day was go to school, come home, do homework, play outside, eat supper, and go to bed. As we got older, we occasionally got to pick a sport or an activity to participate in, but it was limited. You see, when you live in the middle of nowhere, you really have to monitor how much you go, how far you go, and if it's really important enough to actually "go" anywhere.
You might think that sounds boring, but oh, it was simple! My family's days now involve so much activity my head spins and I have have many friends even busier than we are!
In Smut Eye, we had to go, and my parents still have to go, 45 min-1 hour to a Wal-mart, movie theater, major grocery store, retail stores and 15 minutes to the Piggly Wiggly, post office, or bank.
All that said, maybe that's why I love going back "home" to visit. With things so far removed, you don't feel pushed to join in all the commotion. You are compelled to take a rest when you need it. You actually want to go outside and enjoy the peace. Maybe I romanticize it because I long for it so often, but it really is different.
I'd like to think that I have accomplished preserving a little bit of this in my life in "the big city." When it does get overwhelming and I have lost a bit of control over how busy we are I often think of the Jack Johnson song "Breakdown." Here are the lyrics:
I hope this old train breaks down
Then I could take a walk around
And, see what there is to see
And time is just a melody
All the people in the street
Walk as fast as their feet can take them
I just roll through town
And though my windows got a view
The frame I'm looking through
Seems to have no concern for now
So for now
I need this
Old train to breakdown
Oh please just
Let me please breakdown
This engine screams out loud
Centipede gonna crawl westbound
So I don't even make a sound
Cause it's gonna sting me when I leave this town
All the people in the street
That I'll never get to meet
If these tracks don't bend somehow
And I got no time
That I got to get to
Where I don't need to be
So I
I need this
Old train to breakdown
Oh please just
Let me please breakdown
I need this
Old train to breakdown
Oh please just
Let me please breakdown
I wanna break on down
But I cant stop now
Let me break on down
But you cant stop nothing
If you got no control
Of the thoughts in your mind
That you kept in, you know
You don't know nothing
But you don't need to know
The wisdoms in the trees
Not the glass windows
You cant stop wishing
If you don't let go
But things that you find
And you lose, and you know
You keep on rolling
Put the moment on hold
The frames too bright
So put the blinds down low
I need this
Old train to breakdown
Oh please just
Let me please breakdown
I need this
Old train to breakdown
Oh please just
Let me please breakdown
I wanna break on down
But I cant stop now


If you can read that and identify at all (I am sure everyone can), then maybe you need to go "home" and rest. I just hope your "home" is as good a place at being simple as Smut Eye is! If it's not, maybe you need to visit!

Welcome, Alabama (as long as you're not a stranger:)

The stories being told of rural Alabama aren't all being heard. The ones being heard aren't always the most accurate. For a history of a people to be fully gathered, that history must be gathered from several sources.
I like rural Alabama. I love the people. I love the way they talk. I love our story.
The origin of Smut Eye, Alabama, is one of the stories that needs to be fully told. Until now, you have only been able to find one version of how it got it's name. If you use google, you get a nice little story of a blacksmith shop where men gathered to drink away the night and tell stories. That's nice and I have heard it many times. But there's another story. The Phillips family, Mose Phillips being the owner of the Smut Eye Grocery for years, was a rough crew. They did in fact hang around the Grocery and did have a lot of soot and ash, but they also didn't like strangers. If you came through Smut Eye, then called Welcome, you needed to keep on moving or you were likely to be "roughed up" by the Phillips family and given a "smut eye". Quite the opposite of a welcome!
So, there it is...what I feel is the real origin of the name of Smut Eye. Take it or leave it!