My scribbled notes from 2021 named two friends I planned to visit. I waited too long for one. Viewing doesn’t count.

I kept a newspaper column by Lanier Roberts about an experience from his youth. He and a cousin were playing on a sawdust pile when a man with a knife startled them. They fled, never knowing if the stranger meant them harm or just wanted to scare them away. It reminded me of a local story that circulated during my childhood.

Sheriff Johnny Johnson made headlines in Dooly County after finding a moonshine still inside a sawdust pile. The ingenious setup had a gas cooker and a hidden entrance. Sheriff Johnson had earlier caught a bootlegger and noticed wood shavings in his car trunk. It didn’t take him long to find the pile. 

A scribbled note from June of 2021 demonstrated Mr. Emmett Stephens’ quickness in finding clever lines. His son, Charles, told me a story about a Vienna City Council meeting that Mr. Emmett attended decades ago.

Charles said his father wasn’t involved in politics, but he felt strongly about some proposal scheduled for discussion. After Mr. Emmett expressed his opposition, a member of the council asked, “Emmett, who pulled your string?” Mr. Emmett said, “Nobody. I’m a self starter.”

A. J. Jarvis, a former banker in Vienna, was mentioned in a note. He had suggested I write a column about old comics. Examples he gave included Smiley Jack, which I’m not familiar with, plus Dick Tracey and Snuffy Smith. As a longtime comic reader, I liked his idea. Liking without effort, though, doesn’t get things done.  

My favorites are gone from what Daddy called the funny papers, but I still read a few comics each day. When I was little Daddy would read them to me on Sundays and add bits of commentary. Snuffy Smith, Lil’ Abner, Beetle Bailey, and Little Orphan Annie were among his regulars. I don’t know how much reading the comics has impacted my life, but memories of sitting in my father’s lap are still a blessing.

A memo from April suggested Paul Harvey would be a good column topic. Years ago I was an ardent fan of his immensely popular radio program. I never wrote about him, but I do have a short personal story.

When Paul Harvey came to Valdosta State College in 1973 to make a speech, I was the Student Government President and had a chance to meet him. It surprised me when he asked if I knew Deke DeLoach and had I seen him. Deke soon joined us and was warmly greeted. I was impressed that Deke had never mentioned his family’s friendship with Mr. Harvey. It was a good lesson in choosing modesty.

After Mr. Harvey’s talk, he opened the floor for questions. A guy who was part hippie asked, “Do you think marijuana should be legalized?” Mr. Harvey flashed a huge grin. “I don’t think cigarettes should be legal!” he said. “Next question.” The audience, including a few aspiring hippies, laughed heartily. It was a splendid example of disagreeing without being disagreeable.

Deke DeLoach was a laid-back guy with an understated confidence. He had sort of a Peter Fonda vibe like in Easy Rider. I hadn’t thought about Deke in ages. Now I’m wondering what all roads he may have travelled. I’d love to know the rest of the story, but may have waited too long to ask. A scribbled note just became a sober reminder. Viewing doesn’t count.