"Uncle Clarence" and "Aunt Hattie"

(You will have to forgive my rambling and possible poor grammar, it is late!) From my earliest memory until around the age of 10 I lived beside a small country store named Taylor’s Grocery. However it was more than a country store, it was an information hub for those who lived around Plymouth. The owners of the store were Clarence and Hattie Taylor, but to me they were “Uncle Clarence” and “Aunt Hattie.” Now “Aunt Hattie” was always “Aunt Hattie,” but to most people, “Uncle Clarence” was “Bulldog.” They had a daughter named Bertie and she helped take care of me when I was a kid. Now you may ask, “Why in the world are you rambling about this tonight out of the blue?” Well, I will tell you. Tonight I went to the freezer to see what kind of goodies we had, and what should I see, but Brown Mule popsicles. Brown Mule popsicles are vanilla ice cream coated with a hard chocolate shell and was my FAVORITE snack at “Uncle Clarence’s.” It was even better if I could have a chocolate drink too! As I sat down and savored every bite, I thought about all of those days I spent hanging out at the store. I would watch all the “old” farmers come and go but not until they had sat down and talked for a while. It wasn’t the items in the store that were the attraction; it was the sitting area to the right as you walked in the store that was the focal point. One of the areas to sit (and I call it that because I don’t know what exactly it was) was a spring type cot with a thin cushion located right and in front. I can still hear the squeak as people would sit down and get up. I also remember a stove against the right hand wall that heated the store. Now, any one and everyone were welcome to sit anywhere, but you DID NOT sit in the rocking chair in the corner. That was “Bulldog’s” chair. Now don’t get me wrong, he was not mean about it…. as a matter of fact, I cant remember him ever being mean, but it was just understood. Some people would sit there, but just as soon as “Bulldog” was through waiting on customers, they got back up and let him have his chair. To the left of the door were the goodies and the cooler that held my Brown Mules. Against the wall was the drink cooler with glass bottles and tops that had to be pried off with the opener built into the drink box or by a hand opener. My family, like most around, had a charge account at the store. It was a pad with our name on the spine, and I was allowed to charge my snacks and drinks. This was also the place I had my first “job.” I was paid a quarter to pick up the drink tops that “Uncle Clarence” would throw out the back door when he emptied the drink box bottle opener bin. They were thrown there to fill in the holes in the driveway. I mean, who needs rocks when you can have Sunkist, Pepsi and Mountain Dew in it’s place. I remember picking up those tops, getting my quarter from “Uncle Clarence” and then I would head home. One day, I saw him take all the tops I picked up, and throw them right back out. It was not until later that I realized that he had me pick up those tops just so I could have something to do. He threw them back, just so I could have some more the next day to pick up…and of course fill in the holes. So as I sat back and ate my Brown Mule, all these memories came flooding back. So I raised my Mule to you, “Uncle Clarence” in tribute to a great man and all the other great men that helped form so many memories of my childhood.

Bill Askew Motors

(The following are my memories and are told as truths. Your memories may vary) Spending time back in my hometown of Plymouth always brings back old memories. Whether it is time on the river, eating at Little Man or riding by the ball park, the memories flood back into my mind at every turn. I was able to spend the night at my parents last night in order to leave this morning for a hunting club work day in Beaufort County. Driving down Highway 32 I passed a house I have passed many times in my 44 years. It was the house of Bill Askew, a used car dealer there in town. Now when I say he was a used car dealer, he was not the stereotypical used car dealer. As I remember, he was always eager to help and if you had a car in mind, he would either find it for you or let you go with him to “the sale” to be able to pick out your own. His used car lot was a piece of property adjacent to his house that was always lined up with 5, 6 or 7 cars. To my recollection, every car my parents and I had until I graduated high school came from Bill Askew. I can see him in my mind, sporting his gray “G.I” haircut, sitting at the counter on the green bar stools working out a deal on a “new” car for our family. Today, however, there were no cars, no customers and no building where he kept countless records of sales and what not on that lot. Mr. Bill passed away sometime back and I am sure that I have passed by since, but today the emptiness of that lot seemed to strike me. Its not like there are no places to buy and sell cars anymore, Plymouth has Feyer Ford that will sell you a new or used car but Bill Askew was the “old school” used car dealer. The man that would buy a few cars to resale and put a little extra change in his pocket. There are very few of these “home used car lots” left around. These lots have given way to the big dealer in small towns...much like other small businesses. So tonight, here is a toast to Bill Askew Motors...used car salesman and memory maker for a little boy in a small town.