Butch Recalls Winter Days of His Youth

The furnace at our house has had a workout this winter. When it’s cold and windy, it runs almost continually. As I sit in my recliner, book in hand, I try not to think of how much LP gas is being used, but I also worry that the furnace might quit working. I do not like to live in a cold house! I grew up in a tenant house that was freezing cold in the winters. After I was married I told my wife that I would never live in a cold house again.

   However, during those growing-up years, my brother and I spent quite a bit of time outdoors during the winter. Like most kids, we always tried our hand at building snowmen . . . the bigger the better. We grabbed pieces of coal from the old shed to use for the eyes and mouth, sticks for the arms, and a carrot for the nose . . . and topped it off with one of Dad’s old hats. We built forts and had plenty of snowball fights, always trying to hit each other smack dab in the face. Both of us became pitchers on the baseball teams, so perhaps that snowball throwing paid off.

   One time when the snow drifts were packed hard, I cut off sections into blocks with a shovel and built an igloo. To keep warm, I placed small dried out twigs inside and lit them with a match…and the igloo’s roof melted. We had an old sled that had belonged to our cousin, so we took turns pulling each other around the yard. But the real fun was when Dad hooked a chain on his tractor or truck and pulled us on that sled all around the fields. One day, I took the sled to town. Behind the drug store on Main Street was a steep hill where other kids would slide down. Halfway down the hill was a flat spot, followed by a crest, and if you were going fast enough, you went airborne! The kids used their own sleds, bent sheets of tin, tire inner tubes or whatever they could find. One boy used an old refrigerator door!

   When it was really cold and ice formed on the creeks and ponds, many kids hiked up to the conservation club and skated on the frozen ice. I borrowed a pair of ice skates from my cousin and tried that one time, but could barely stand up straight on those skates. I also feared that the ice might break and I would fall into the water, so I never ventured very far out to the middle of the pond since I couldn’t swim a lick. Dad took me ice fishing on that pond one time, too. I sat there for two hours. I saw plenty of fish, but never had a bite.

   One snowy afternoon, I took my Daisy B-B rifle back to the woods to hunt for rabbits. As soon as I entered the woods, a rabbit scampered off and hid inside a hollow log. I had him trapped! I shot into the log about thirty times, figuring that I had that night’s supper for the family. But when I looked in the opposite end, the rabbit took off and hightailed out of sight. Just as well, I guess, as I would rather look at a rabbit than eat it.

   Sometimes I climbed the ladder up to the haymow and built a secret hideout with bales of straw. I often took a book and flashlight and read in my new warm and comfy quarters. And there were times that I just sat by the haymow window and watched the birds land on the nearby catalpa tree.

   Chores during the winter became more difficult at times. The outside faucets became frozen, and we would have to carry water from the house to the chickens and pigs. One time I made the mistake of trying to drink from an outside hydrant . . . and you guessed it . . . my tongue stuck to the faucet! I can remember Dad milking the cows, sometimes in the darkness of morning, and his hands would get very cold as the milk streamed into the steel buckets.

   The upstairs bedroom where my brother and I slept had no heat, except for what little came up through a floor vent from the fuel oil stove in the downstairs living room. We wore hats and coats and gloves to bed on many nights. But the worst part of winter, when I was very young . . . before we had an indoor toilet, was heading out to the outhouse to take care of necessary chores. Thank the Lord it had a wooden seat!

John “Butch” Dale is a retired teacher and County Sheriff. He has also been the librarian at Darlington the past 37 years, and is a well-known artist and author of local history.