Like most country kids, I started driving early. I was always excited when Daddy would let me drive his hunting truck in the woods. I could drive quite well by the time I was 12 or 13-years old.
I was actually 14 when I started driving our hunting truck around town; not on joy rides, but to pick up the food scraps from the school lunchroom. Daddy had made arrangements with the local school to use the food scraps to feed our deer hounds. It was a daily routine; after I got home from school, I would drive our hunting truck back to the lunchroom, pick up several trash cans full of scraps, then take them home to feed our hounds. I would scrub the cans clean and do it again the next day. It wasn't a fun job, but I'm sure it saved us a lot of money over the years.
I was on one of those daily runs when I encountered the Georgia State Trooper. I had stopped by the local drugstore on my way to the lunchroom. The drugstore was next to the only traffic light in town, it was a major highway intersection. You could get a fountain coke for 25 cents. I always had a shot of cherry flavoring put in mine. Anyway, I bought the drink and was getting back in the truck when the trooper pulled up next to me. He was waiting for the traffic light to turn green.
I was busted. I was sitting in the driver's side of the truck with a state trooper not more than 10 feet away. I know I look my age now, but at 14, I looked like a babe. There was nothing I could do at that point, I just froze. The light finally turned green and the trooper drove away.
The rest of my discussion with the trooper was much different from how it started. He told me a quick hunting story and to stay on the back roads. Then he was gone. Just like that, I went from a moment of terror to getting back into the truck with a mild case of the shakes. When Daddy got home from work I told him about my encounter. He laughed and said the trooper had stopped by his barber shop and told him, too. I'm sure Daddy invited him to hunt with us.
I guess I was just lucky to be stopped by a Georgia State Trooper with a fondness for deer hounds.
Mike's Tip: Don't ever stop for a cherry-flavored fountain coke. You never know when "Smoky the Bear" may be watching.
Mike Griffin, an old Ludowici boy from way back.
PS - All of my stories are true, mostly true or maybe just made up :)
The Daily Lunchroom Run
I was actually 14 when I started driving our hunting truck around town; not on joy rides, but to pick up the food scraps from the school lunchroom. Daddy had made arrangements with the local school to use the food scraps to feed our deer hounds. It was a daily routine; after I got home from school, I would drive our hunting truck back to the lunchroom, pick up several trash cans full of scraps, then take them home to feed our hounds. I would scrub the cans clean and do it again the next day. It wasn't a fun job, but I'm sure it saved us a lot of money over the years.
I was on one of those daily runs when I encountered the Georgia State Trooper. I had stopped by the local drugstore on my way to the lunchroom. The drugstore was next to the only traffic light in town, it was a major highway intersection. You could get a fountain coke for 25 cents. I always had a shot of cherry flavoring put in mine. Anyway, I bought the drink and was getting back in the truck when the trooper pulled up next to me. He was waiting for the traffic light to turn green.
No Where to Run
I was busted. I was sitting in the driver's side of the truck with a state trooper not more than 10 feet away. I know I look my age now, but at 14, I looked like a babe. There was nothing I could do at that point, I just froze. The light finally turned green and the trooper drove away.
After calming down a bit, I drove to the lunchroom, picked up the scraps and headed back home. Just to be safe, I took a back road, North Macon Street, avoiding the drugstore and traffic light. I was just about home when blue lights started flashing behind me. It was that Georgia State Trooper.
Panic is a mild word. I was terrified. No one ever messed with a Georgia State Trooper. They were all over 6 feet tall, 200 plus pounds, armed, and never without their smoky bear hat and sunglasses. I was 14, skinny for my age, no drivers license, and in a world of trouble. He "told" me to step out of the truck.
I was always polite to my elders, but I immediately said, "Yes Sir" and practically fell out of the truck. He asked for my drivers license, which I confessed to not having. He then wanted to know how old I was. You can imagine his facial expression when I told him I was only 14.
At that point he said, "Son, what are you doing driving this truck?" I told him about picking up the lunchroom scraps every day to feed our dogs. He then looked in the back of the truck at the trash cans and asked who my Dad was. I told him, thinking this is it. He then gets this big grin on his face and said, "I know Bennie Griffin. Are these for his dogs?"
Panic is a mild word. I was terrified. No one ever messed with a Georgia State Trooper. They were all over 6 feet tall, 200 plus pounds, armed, and never without their smoky bear hat and sunglasses. I was 14, skinny for my age, no drivers license, and in a world of trouble. He "told" me to step out of the truck.I was always polite to my elders, but I immediately said, "Yes Sir" and practically fell out of the truck. He asked for my drivers license, which I confessed to not having. He then wanted to know how old I was. You can imagine his facial expression when I told him I was only 14.
At that point he said, "Son, what are you doing driving this truck?" I told him about picking up the lunchroom scraps every day to feed our dogs. He then looked in the back of the truck at the trash cans and asked who my Dad was. I told him, thinking this is it. He then gets this big grin on his face and said, "I know Bennie Griffin. Are these for his dogs?"
The Rest of the Story
The rest of my discussion with the trooper was much different from how it started. He told me a quick hunting story and to stay on the back roads. Then he was gone. Just like that, I went from a moment of terror to getting back into the truck with a mild case of the shakes. When Daddy got home from work I told him about my encounter. He laughed and said the trooper had stopped by his barber shop and told him, too. I'm sure Daddy invited him to hunt with us.
I guess I was just lucky to be stopped by a Georgia State Trooper with a fondness for deer hounds.
Mike's Tip: Don't ever stop for a cherry-flavored fountain coke. You never know when "Smoky the Bear" may be watching.
Mike Griffin, an old Ludowici boy from way back.
PS - All of my stories are true, mostly true or maybe just made up :)
No comments:
Post a Comment