Don Locke: Lookin Thru Bifocals
Coming-up, my boyhood friend, Amos, Amos Jennings, was an enigma, wrapped-up in an ambiguity and sealed by a riddle. He either had a screw loose or heard a different drum… perhaps a good bit of both.
Like most boys, he liked things that went BOOM! And he was inventive when it came to putting off shots. Fire crackers under tin cans and in bottles and such didn’t excite like it once did, so Amos upped the ante. He got an automobile time pump and took the plunger out. From that he concocted a combination bazooka and/or mortar- Depending on whether or not you wanted to hold it or set it on the ground. Here, bravery came into play. Or stupidity.
Back then you could buy cherry- bomb fire crackers. Big dudes- about the size of a green walnut. And Red. Fiery Red. For the powder charge he twisted an extra fuse on to the existing cherry bomb fuse. For the projectile, he used two large flashlight batteries. He’d then light the fuse and drop the bomb down the tire pump tube- followed by the batteries. Once he claimed he shot the batteries clear over Greenville Court House. When Amos grew-up, he got a job with the State. I trust it had nothing to do with explosives. I hope not.
- “My cousin Charlie, the Dynamite Expert.”
Until the day he died at 70, I called him that; He was missing a thumb and two fingers to prove it- on his hammer- hand. That being the hand he hit the dynamite cap with- on a Halloween. Charlie only had the mind of a fourteen-year-old, because he was fourteen. And he knew as much about a dynamite cap as a hog does the plan of salvation. The concussion blew him all way across the street. He later admitted he had both pockets crammed with dynamite caps. Charlie survived to marry his high school sweetheart, and own his own radio station. Charlie Stovall… The arsenal in his pockets didn’t go off… Thank Goodness.
- Poor Sentence Structure (college student):
“ Get a dog with a keen nose, because you can teach a dog to point. But you can’t make him smell good.”