Maryville TN

I was warm for my second Christmas by the fireplace at 2517 West Oak Street in the expansion of Col Christie’s Fort, Louisville KY. My dad was cooling it at a Belgian vacation. Bastogne 1944.

In 1946 the Corps of Engineers finished with Arnold Weyler who helped convert Muscle Shoals from ammunition to fertilzer production. Arnold had his electrical experience with Louisville Gas and Electric interrupted by 86th Engineers helping Patton ashore at Cherbourg. They walked across France to the Austrian Alps with vacation stops at the Bulge and Remagen, wiring, plumbing, rigging, repairing, and bridging along the way. TVA liked Weyler’s resume and needed repairs at Wilson Dam. When they were done, they needed operation of links between TVA, Carolina Power, and Alcoa systems. That meant the switching station in Mr. Ross’s pasture off Big Springs Road.

Maryville was Uncle John Craig’s town near SN1754’s Newell’s Station. Craig and Newell were much closer together at Kings Mountain than later on south of the French Broad. In 1946, SN1754’s great great Grandson Oscar Newell Jr was in Fountain City with a Cyrenious Wait grand child. Virginia Newell liked to be near the brother who had moved to Col Christie’s Louisville with her. Both had snared spouses there. Uncle Oz was a sharp shooter, but TVA declared him a super sharper vital electrician, so he stayed home from the war to keep Alcoa and Oak Ridge running. So Maryville it was, on the edge within walking distance to Alcoa Switching Station on snowy days. That meant Sunset View. Mr. Boling’s woods and Farris Moore’s field were outside the Maryville city limit. Tapoca ended at Maple Street. Fairlawn Circle was filled with vines, trees, briars, and a swamp. Arnold found a house with three lots in Sunset View. Virginia wanted space for a garden. 410 North Maple Street was an old house with enough engineering projects for the Corps, just right for Arnold. The GI Bill put up most of the $4000 when dad promised to pay it back plus 3% per annum. Dad brought me from Tuscumbia to decorate inside in August 1946. Then we went to Oscar Newell’s in Bronston KY where my baby sister, Karen, made her first appearance. Mom got to see her house furnished instead of empty.

It has not yet been four decades camping out in Mt. Juliet. Sunset View still feels like home. I betcha it is the same feeling for John Frye camping at the Villages, Mary Knoll Russell at Cape Canaveral, Eddie Harmon in Atlanta, Karen Smith Edwards in Friendsville, and Butch Farmer in the Boro. At Kings Mountain SN1754 was a block around the ridge from John Sevier. Karen Weyler and Lloyd Bell moved a block from John Sevier School.

Gail, Jerry, and Eddie moved from Houston and Broadway to Maple (actually Farris Moore’s Lane) and Tapoca. I got to play on their porches of both houses. I let them play with my car. Dad made me a new larger one with the Mercury torch hood ornament from a junker in Bronston. I was about eight when Mary or Jerry or Larry was Simon. Simon said one giant step backward. I tripped on a hose and fell back to let the torch burn inside a hole in my abdominal wall. Hernia repair was my first and only trip to Blount Memorial Hospital as a patient. I missed the first Little League season and never caught up. But Dad added a backboard over the homemade swing set. I got right good at HORSE after I outgrew the horse Dad mounted on chains.

In 1950, I was strong enough to stop traffic on two federal highways at one time with one hand, both US129 and US411. My West Side safety patrol station guarded pedestrians from Gilbert’s Noah’s Ark to Tony and Carole Speers’ side. Half of Maryville didn’t cross. Laner and Roy helped them cross Washington at Fort Craig instead. Weaklings, just one highway, TN 73.

Half of the West side half didn’t cross at my station either. Sims, Shields, Mizell, Darryl Williams, Sonny Mac, Buddy and Gail were already on the right side. Sam Bill Hitch, Linda Sutton, Diane Johnson, Helen Barnes, James Dover, Archie Anderson, and David Rhyne were among my customers. Trudy Cochran wasn’t. We could not afford Ks yet and we had Sam Houston when she was big enough for 1st grade. Judy Francis was my best customer. She lived up the sidewalk steps by Noah’s Ark. That was back when New Providence was Old Providence. Dee Roach could have taken over my station, but he wouldn’t have had many customers. What we left of West Side underwent the demolition of the East Side gang.

I will identify one of these. Curtis gets the chore of identifying my other customers from this inside shot of West Side.

Every child in Suset View felt welcome through the back door of every house without knocking. We tested the cookie recipes of every mother. Big brother safety patroller decided to show little sister more of our world. It was raining, but we had new boots and rain coats. We visited Young Ave. Carolyn Cruze, Walker Johnson, Chip and Chub Hedge. We stopped to see John Nance. His mom had milk and cookies and read us his new book. We didn’t get to hear the end. Dad was rather unhappy when he knocked on the door. He had been driving around in the rain for a while looking all over West Maryville. He saw our new boots on the Nance’s front porch.

Five SN1754 ggggrandchildren in Sunset View. We played in Woody West’s workshop and monkey tree across the street. Woody was phyically slower, but mentally faster than the rest of us. Tiny West fought with the school board to keep him in through graduation. IBM was glad she did. Last I heard from Lexington, he still has IBM’s most patents title. Lexmark inherited his selectric typeball alignment technology and carried into their laser alignment devices. Nancy B and Win Alexander stand beside Karen and Wilma Weyler.

Hudson Dive was not the end of Maryville. Murvul extend four more houses past Don Palmer’s and crossed behind Ernie Cox’s dad’s Pope’s Power House. The city limit crossed Old Niles Ferry and went behind Johnny Harper, Keith Wilson and the Ginger Trundle’s houses. Buena Vista was not outside the city limit. It wasn’t anywhere yet. Later they added a Kayo station across from Chick’s Power House (Mt Chaddick bought from Pope Cox). We didn’t need Kay’s ice cream. Let’s twist again like we did that summer. We twisted the crank until the ice cream was so thick it almost broke the handle. We had to switch hands or take turns to twist enough. After all those Parris Island push ups, I was determined that I could twist all by myself with one hand until it was done. One tank of peach ice cream was enough to prove myself. After that I would again share a twist with the Air Force Sgt. Lloyd W Bell.

Before Doctor Dawson came to Tapoca, we had gravel streets. After they paved, Peggy, Sandra Kay, Harry, Tim Garner, and Lea had fewer bumps. When it snowed, it was almost impossible to obey the Maple Street stop sign at Tapoca. It was also tough for Doctor Dawson to respond to a call because you couldn’t get up the hill. In the name of truth, justice and the American way, Mom woke me up early on snow days. I cleaned at least two tracks from Tapoca to Doctor Isbell’s driveway. A few objected that I ruined their sled run. A few minutes later, they’d thank me for saving their lives by getting them out of the street and onto Mr. Moore’s hill. A block long hill stretched from Farris Moore’s back yard to Morganton Road. Half way down was a huge old stump. We piled snow on the up hill side to make a ski jump in the middle of our sled run. Mr. Moore loaned us his water hose about sundown so we could mand patches to slick down overnight with a hard freeze. The bottom was flat, but with each trip the track stretched closer to the fence. In one or two super snows, we had to lift the bottom of the fence to let us slide onto Morganton Road. We crossed it for a while, but cars soon messed up the snow pack. Archie and Donnie were deputies to keep people from walking back up on the good track. Walking beside on the way up would start packing a second and a third track. These kept the waiting line down. You had to wait until the one in front of you cleared the stump jump and stood up or emerged into the bottom. Sometimes a sledder would wipe out on the stump. If the next sled was too close behind, it could pile on.

I failed to shovel Maple Street while I was in the marines. Ed Knoll told me that was no excuse for lollygagging. He said I should make arrangements to come home on leave for snow days. I should be responsible to finish the job I started.

Our softball field was across Maple Street. Home plate was in the corner by the hedge nearest Hope and Butch Borah’s (later Bill and Don Sparks) back door. Third base was out Jimmy and Donnie Hill’s back door, but they were off playing football in Chicago. A good poke would put the ball at the edge of Tapoca and the Knoll’s yard. The left fielder was left with the decision to run around to Marilyn Taylor’s driveway and get on the top of the bank, crawl up the bank, or wait in the street. A left handed poke could reach our swing set across Maple.

We enjoyed when Fred Condry came to the game. He rode his horse down the median of Hudson. Then we took tourns behind the saddle instead of turns at bat. At the foot of the hill behind Mrs. Paul Beach’s house was a spring. It ran part way to Marganton Road behind Jerry Lequire’s, then went underground to join Pistol Creek somewhere around where KMart would come by the bypass. Maybe Lamar Russell can tell us more about that neighborhood.

Cycling is more interesting with hills. That is why Rick and Roy go to Fontana, the Cumberland Plateau, or the Blue Ridge. Sunset view had the Hudson hills. Another run started in Karen Smith’s driveway, ran down Tapoca, then turned down the hill in front of Bill Orr’s to Butch Farmer’s corner. Left on Hudson in front of Ernie Cox and back to Tapoca. Then there was the loop into Marilyn Taylor’s driveway, behind Mary Knoll’s house and down her driveway. That was where I learned that the back wheel could outrun the front wheel. I was gathering speed to the corner of Maple and Tapoca where the cars had been piling a triangle of gravel. They slowed the front wheel, but the back held speed over the top. I remember seeing the basket ball goal from above the rim. The next thing I remember was the ceiling above my bed.

Arnold Weyler engineering projects at 410 N Maple included knocking out the back basement wall for a door to a new patio and driveway off Tapoca. He installed attic windows and made a sewing room and my bed room upstairs. He knocked out the back bedroom wall and built a new bedroom wing with two new bath rooms so that Grandma Weyler had private quarters. He dug and burlapped root balls for two sizable oak trees to make mom’s garden lot. He hired a wrecker to move the trees to the front yard. He diverted the drain from the laundry to a pipe through the wall with a hose to water the lawn. Both of the oak trees had blistered bark on the west side from the afternoon sun. He covered them with tar. One of them made it. The single tree and the little holly sprout from Cumberland Falls now fill the yard.

Children of the depression, Mom and Dad were always looking for material and ways to put it to use. Dad went to surplus auctions from TVA in Knoxville, the Aluminum plants in Alcoa, and AEC at Oak Ridge. He got electric heaters and rewired the house with Square D breakers to replace the fuse box. Everyone was switching from coal furnaces to electric heat. That kept the soot levels down, especially nice on a cold laundry day when the clothes might come back off the line dirtier than when they were hung to dry. We had a chute in the center hall for dirty clothes. It had a retaining box downstairs with a door to drop into a bushel basket on a cart. Mom found some rebberized table cloth fabric and made liners for the bushel baskets. Dad found some TVA pipes and bent frame for the cart. He used rods and grill from the old refrigerator to make sides and floors for the two level cart. He used axle and wheels from a Radio Flyer wagon so mom could roll the cart to and from the clothes line. AEC blue paint kept the pipes from rusting.

But with the new 220 circuit mom got a dryer. She still kept the clothes line to get fresh air for quilts, blankets, and sheets. Grandma had an ice box on her back porch. The ice man put a new block in twice a week during the summer. She kept it after she got a Frigidaire to use for holiday food that overflowed the little electric indoor box. The coil on the top of the Frigidaire sometimes rattled when the motor came on. The ice trays were cumbersome and the cubes stuck to the tray. She kept the ice pick and chipped off the old block for THanksgiving iced tea.

As more and more housed switched to electric heating and cooling, Blount Ice and Coal Company business was shrinking. On East Edison Street in Alcoa, the plant was located near a rail line to receive coal and Pistol Creek to receive water. It used the creek water for brine, not for edible ice blocks. Ed Knoll decided to liquidate and get into the teaching and coaching business. Dad went to the auction and bought some pipes and tanks. I stlll have some file and rasp handles and ice picks. One has a nine cent price stamped on it. Another has Blount Ice and Coal stamped on it. It was free advertising.

Arnold removed the old coal furnace ducts and replaced registers with hard wood flooring. That made more room in the basement for his projects. Surplus aluminum plates, surplus Oak Ridge acid, and surplus TVA tar paint were material for some projects. Win and Nancy Alexander’s grandpa was an FDR recovery leader who spread “precious cookers” around souther farms so people could preserve something to eat. He retired to a plantain on the road between Duke in Durham and UNC in CHapel Hill. He named it New Hope Farm. Arnold sketched outlines for lettering and pictures on a big rectangular aluminum plate to make a sign for “New Hope Farm.” He painted the inverse, then etched the pictures of horses. After cleaning and shining, he lettered the name and address as neatly, but much slower than a J Ed Harmon sigh. The sign was so impressive that it didn’t last long on Uncle Will’s post. It found a place on a frat house wall in Chapel Hill.

Arnold laughed. Alcoa had lots of surplus plates. He said that he had practiced and could do the next sign right. He mounted the New Hope Farm good sign and strung a wire from a telephone pole to it. The Tarheel frat boys never touched to see whether it was connected. Uncle Will’s big house was at the edge of the woods off the raod. It had big open space, pine paneling, and a trained Dalmation in or out. The Cartwright’s house on Bonanza had some of the same effects. The Feds removed the New Hope houses for a new interchange of I-40. I didn’t know where the sign went.

Some of the other aluminum plates were cut into perfect circles about four feet in diameter. Dad etched various designs into them and scalloped the edges up 90 degrees to make serving trays. Each of my aunts got a tray with artwork suitable to some event in their lives. I think Karen kept mom’s. I retrieved Aunt Nita’s from Ohio.

Winfred West was an engineer for Blount Electric in Alcoa. Mom told Dad that Mr. West had engineered a suds saver and hot water saver system. Arnold went to work again. He mounted a Blount Ice and Coal tank above the automatic washer level but within reach of the drain hose. The washer pump was strong enough to push the hot rinse water into the tank. He put the old wringer washer tub beside the automatic with two drain options. One went to the pipe through the wall outside. The other went to the sewer. Instead of just a hose to water the oak trees, he mounted another Blount Ice tank beside the outside wall. He put a little electric pump beside it with a hose to the upper back corner above the garden. He put a third Blount Ice water tank there. From it a “water soaker” hose could be moved among the hillside rows and gravity would water mom’s vegetables and strawberries. On laundry day, Mom had us moving hoses and changing valves and drains between washer cycles.
Half a tank of hat water gravity fed back into the washer would start a new load. It topped off from the water heater doing only half as much work. Maybe we saved a dime or two on water and electric bills. But that was six Coca Colas if you bought a carton at a time with returned empty bottles.

Arnold had hit some snags along the way to saving hot (and cold) water. He got curious about how Winfred had solved them. He went across the street to see Mr. West’s solutions. Winfred told him that he decided it wouldn’t work and abandoned Tiny’s water saver project.

A surplus TVA four foot steel man hole cover with some pipe legs made a welding table for the electric arc welder Arnold made with some surplus AEC transformers and a cage on wagon wheels, a heavy duty replica of Gin’s laundry cart. Dad welded surplus Blount Ice and Coal pipes to make a TV antenna tower. He got oxygen and acetylene tanks to make a cutter for surplus steel plates. He cut holes in the center of two and mounted bearing races from surplus wheels. He drilled various holes in the lower plate, put a center mast pipe in the bearings, welded a handle to the mast with a slot for the pin to lock through the right hole in the steel plate. At the top of the rotating center mast, Arnold placed an array of surplus Alcoa aluminum tubes, a highly directional antenna. Wired to a new living room addition, the last (so it seemed to us) house in Sunset View to have TV first tuned in to Mason City Iowa. We pointed toward Knoxville and got channel six. A twist on the mast cleared the shadows. Some experimenting with pointing and changing channels got Chattanooga, Asheville, John City, Atlanta channels. We waathced Havana that night, but snowy. We learned in the next few weeks that we could watch Fort Worth only part of the time. It would go from great to nothing, then back to good. With some studying, Dad learned that a Dallas sky scraper was between the transmission tower and Murvul. With the wind swaying, it blocked the signal until the wind let off.

Over time, Knoxville added stations and we settled in on ample programming. It meant adding some vacuum tubes and another rack of surplus aluminum tubes on the antenna to get UHF 26 an a VHF receiver. We watched the test pattern until cartoon time. We listened to the national anthem every night until it got old. For a while we still listened to Corbett’s WGAP 1400. Kerns presented Cicso Kid on Friday evening. Merita presented the Lone Rander on Thurday. I can’t remember who presented Gene Autry and Roy Rogers when. I missed Monday evenings for Boy Scouts and Wednesdays for Prayer Meeting. But I didn’t miss the mornings. Mom cranked it up for the Eddie Arnold Show. “Cattle Call” meant that the day could begin.

Dad installed outdoor outlets on each corner for the electric mower. I managed to cut the cord and shock myself often. Dad got a gas mower after while. The outlets were still there for outdoor Christmas lights. Arnold mounted boom box speakers and taped Gene Autry and others for a Christmas Medley. Mr. Harmon painted up a Rudolph array of characters and put up front yard flood lights to have video matching Dad’s audio.

The TV antenna tower was so secured to the house that I could climb past my bedroom window to caary aluminum to Dad above the roof. Hmmmmm. If I left the window unlocked….. So when I was out past curfew…….. A few times I was in bed without coming though the door to confront Mom or Dad asleep waiting on the couch to mete out the lecture and appropriate punishment.

About 1958
We had a problem entering Broadway from North Maple Street when John and Jodie Davis neighbors came flying into town. There were also the Buckeyes coming back US 411 from Florida vacations. Twice the speed limit was not unusual. For the sake of Anne Talley and Jimmy Cate crossing to visit the Alexanders or Ramseys, my dad bought an old tank. Actually it was a Ford which he didn’t care how many dents it carried. He’d wait on a speeder, then pull onto Broadway in front of them at the speed limit instead of his usual five or ten over.

A Davis neighbor would nearly skid into the Hayworth’s yard to avoid a nick in that shiny big Olds 98.

It was Sharon Bean’s grandmother who made our cars (plural) ready for the Wal-Mart car show. I washed the Plymouth in the front driveway and moved the Ford out in the yard by the telephone pole next to the driveway. I was back in the house getting a glass of water when I heard a noise. I looked out to see Mrs Bean’s Edsel making a wide arc from Tapoca into the flower bed across Maple.

She proceeded toward Larry West’s (Richard Kiethley’s) house with the wide arc. Mrs Bean then crossed Maple leveling our mail box heading toward our front porch. The arc continued back toward Tapoca and the wall beside our driveway. She barely missed the big flower pot at the end of the wall and jumped the wall to land on the trunk of the Plymouth. Sliding off the cushion of the trunk away from head on crash into the big Maple tree, the arc continued back toward the telephone pole. The Ford kept the Edsel from a head on crash into the pole. Mrs. Bean pushed the Ford six feet and made it two feet thinner collapsing one door with her bumper and one with the pole.

For the next few months, before I mowed, I’d sprinkle more dirt over the two ruts Mrs. Bean dug grinding the Ford into the telephone pole. Some neighbors helped jack up the Edsel to get it out of the ruts and pulled it to our driveway behind the Plymouth. The Edsel hardly had a scratch. Mrs. Bean drove it to Florida the next day.

The Ford was totaled. Dad was able to crawl through the window to get in and out. The Plymouth was drivable if you didn’t need to put groceries into the trunk and it didn’t rain. Both could have qualified for the Wal-Mart car show.

I brought groceries on my bicycle until Dad bought Mom a replacement and got a new second for him to drive to work. Rhyne’s grocery on Marganton Rd was closer, but there was that washboard hill. Benson’s was handy at Broadway and Melrose. I used Mr. Cate’s J&K across from West Side or Glenn Brown’s White Store. I used saddle bag bike baskets and my Knoxville News Sentinel bags for all but the loaf of bread in my front basket.

Mr. Benson often cut his price for a 10 cent loaf of bread to three for a quarter. I got all entreprenurial and added my fifteen cents to Mom’s dime. I put two loaves under my bed. I pocketed her next dime and saved a trip to Melrose and Broadway. I pocketed the next dime with one candy bar profit. Mom wanted a fresh loaf of bread on my way home from school. She couldn’t believe that Mr. Benson was so bad about rotating stock. The truth came out. Mom let me continue earning a nickel every three weeks, but put the spare loaves into the freezer so they would be edible two weeks later.

When Belle Newell succumbed to cancer as a guinea pig for Duke’s research hospital, Oscar was heart broken. He kept running the Bronston Post Office but didn’t eat right. In a year or two he was so puny that Virginia brought him to Maryville to recover. I thought he was looking better in a few days. When I came down Tapoca after Kaaren Smith’s birthday party, there was an ambulance in front of the house. Granddaddy didn’t come back from pneumonia. He rejoined Belle in spirit and bodily beside her by the lane on the John Beaty farm. The 1882 connection to SN1754 was gone except for the parts he put into my cranial storage.

In 1959, Harry Hammontree never put five dollar worth of Super Golden Extra Ethyl Dino Crest Esso with tetraethyl lead into his mom’s 57 Ford. It didn’t hold that much. A dollar got enough for the week-end and a clean windshield. Allison’s Esso across Cumberland from the Ballis Billiard Hall charged more than Kidd’s on Broadway.Gatlingburg prices were much higher, maybe up to a quarter per gallon. Tony and Carol Speers neighborhood was the place to shop for gasoline. It was a penny per gallon plus tax, 12.6 cents at their corner. And it was Pure. Everett Hill Road at Broadway crept up to over 20 cents per gallon while I was in the Marines, but you got free dishes with your purchase there. We never dreamed that people would pay over a nickle for an RC Coke Cola or pay money for air or a drink of water.

Dr. Kintner recruited Gin Weyler and Kay Hultquist to be girls sount leaders. Their troop observed that the Cades Cove loop road was a long hike and the Buckeyes and Hossiers were all driving. Soon Dad and I were gathering abandoned bicycles from Blount County garages, back yards, barns, and dumps. We didn’t find surplus inner tubes chains, and spokes. We did have surplus sand paper and paint. A front wheel from this a frame from that, handle bars from another. Some store bought chain links and handle grips. We had a dozen fir for the Yankees in a hurry. Some surplus pipes were turned into a rack. Bill step’s surplus pad lock was security. A surplus tarp was shelter. Five days a week, Kaay and Gin took turns going to the Dept of Interior authorized bike stand across from Cotton Cate’s store. Once or twice a week, they carried a new unit to add to the fleet. Dad joined two frames and welded up tandem bikes which became the units with the waiting lists. I forget how many it took before there were idle bikes on Saturdays.

Damned Yankees. The girls didn’t charge to make a profit. It was more like loaning a bicycle with a contribution to cover expenses. I still got to circle the loop picking up abandoned bikes from the ditches. Even some hiding behind trees. The Park Rangers helped some. The girls started getting deposits which were sometimes abandoned as easily as the bikes. They eventually went to holding a driver’s license for security.

Cades Cove welcome station then and now.

Dad made a camper top for the truck and installed some equipment and supplies including a slightly chopped down full size mattress. In good weather a shift of bike duty became two days. Tuesday and Wednesday was first shift. Thurday and Friday was second shift. All hands for the Saturday shift. A few years of public service was a sufficient tour of duty. Gin and Kay got a sizable contribution from Cotton Cate for the Girls Scouts. They retired to work on horticulture and a Pistol Creek path. Cotton was in the bike rental business. I noticed that the old fleet survived years of abuse, but shiny store bought units replaced the retired units.

When we were Boy Scouts, we could camp on the left before the welcome station where now only picknickers are allowed. Troop 89 camped there one night when there was a roar like the back stretch of Talledega. In a few minutes, the creek was flowing between our tents. The little trenches we dug around them were like pea shooters in an artillery fight. We didn’t wash away. Neither did we dry out before we got back to Murvul.

Another trip to Cades Cove, there was a roar in the night. Then there was a rip. Then just the babbling music of the creek on the rocks. The next morning we saw our supply tent torn open. Our strings of hot dogs were among the bear tracks heading back to the woods. We had a limited menu for the rest of the week-end. Thankfully we had enough tube steaks that the bear did not eat us. First Baptist would have had empty pews.

All the big churches had scout troops. A Prebyterian could be in a Methodist troop. We all knew each other’s denominations and could even distinguish Methodists between First and Broadway. The color of hair was almost as well known. We have such good recall that a “which church” test was passed by every student at a recent MHS61 gathering.

Davis, Norton, Perry, Shore, Stafford, Weeks, Weyler. After graduation, some Red Rebels became Volunteers. If every graduating class of every school sent the same ratio to USMC as did MHS61, the Marine Corps would have to add divisions. Semper Fi. We sent soldiers and sailors, too. Marching band, boy scouts, football practice and other Murvul influences made us ready. We suffered some wounds, but no casualties.

Next generation of SN1754, Ginny Lynn Weyler visited the 410 N Maple house of Gin Newell Weyler in 1977. Grandma Enid Weyler was the same size as Tiny West. She was a bit shaky with a camera by 1980. Standing back to back with one of them was a rite of passage for measuring growth of Sunset View children until 1982. That suit is the one which the News Sentinel showed on the front page of the Sunday after SN1754 classmate Samuel Carrick’s university homecoming game where I carried the slushpump for the alumni band. Their photographer got the angle to show the piping on the pocket edge forming the U around the T.

In 1981, I visited 410 N Maple St, Murvul, to train a 2001 Marine for mess call.

Jimmy Cate’s memory outruns mine. We also need artistic input from Friendsville, so Gladys, Beccie, and Karen need to speak up.
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