I grew up as the nearest neighbor to Pap and his family. He was called Pap by all of the children in our community, including me. There was good reason why we all picked up on the term. Pap was a character. He lived in a four-roomed plank house, the description given to a house made of unplained lumber with no weather-boarding and a metal roof. He had raised his family in this same house with his wife whom we fondly called Mam.
When I was a teenager, Pap was in his eighties as was his wife. He was not a big man. He was maybe five feet seven inches tall, but there was no question of his authority within the family of children, grandchildren and in-laws that lived in that four-room house. He always wore the same type of clothing: overalls, a denim button-up shirt, and a second-hand suit coat which Mam got from the mission for her berries or vegetables. Pap didn't wear any underclothes. And I don't ever recall seeing him with socks on. The only time you'd ever see him without his hat, though, was during church.
Pap attended the Regular Baptist Church every month and sat up front with the preachers. The rest of the family also attended, but sat back among the congregation. They seemed to be a religious bunch, and I think it was their opinion that they were. Yet, to this day, I have never heard vulgarity that compares to what I heard many times coming out of family arguments at Pap's. Vile and vicious are mild descriptions. Even so, they believed most literally and simply in God, heaven and hell.
There were eight of us boys in my father's family. We didn't go to bed nearly as early as Pap's family did. Early to bed and early to rise was something that Pap had taught and required of all who lived with him. The chores and meals were completed by five o'clock; bedtime was no later than seven whether anyone was sleepy or not.
Since there were always two or three female members in Pap's household that were in their teens or twenties, the situation between the two households readily lent to, at best, mischief which Pap so vehemently disliked. And the fear that most crossed his mind seemed to be the idea of us boys courting one of his eleven daughters and grand-daughters.
Despite his many attempts, he could not keep the two bunches from mixing. Many times he, along with Mam, came by my parents' house complaining of capers involving my oldest brother Jed. I'll never forget the time I heard Mam describing to my father how she had caught Jed "standing o'er m' dear Mollie wid 'is fixins in 'is hands whilest Mollie laid 'ere all sprauled out on de bed."
No one person got a bigger kick out of those two than my father did. It never failed that once Mam and Pap got started, Dad would have to leave the room and go outside to laugh, leaving Mom to stay there and keep a straight face. She was good at that.
Couples could do all right if we could keep the dog from waking Pap up. As you would figure, when Pap woke up, all hell broke loose.
We'd run out and hide close by so we could hear the fuss. Pap always had the same argument.
"I'ms can't put up wid 'is bunch o' hoors in mine house," he'd begin in a loud voice, though he always managed to get louder as the racket heated up.
"I'ms not gonna let me be sent t' hell fer lettin' the likes o' this go on in mine house cause I'ms gonna hafta face judgement day.
"Em dag-damned hoors er gonna hafta find 'em anudder roostin' place – an' I means 'ight now."
Mam always came to the rescue of the girls. "Now Pap, 'em youngins hain't done nuffin wrong. You hain't seed nuffin. You hain't heard nuffin. So ye jest gonna hafta hush on 'em youngins."
"'Em summabitches er a-layin' out 'ere right now a-listenin' t'me and a-snickerin'," Pap would argue.
"Pap, ye've 'most lost ye mind. Ye girls git back in 'is house. Pap tell 'em t' git back in dis house."
"OK, but I'ms no damned foo'. De only dagdamned fing I'ms can believe 'round here is dat dog," Pap would growl. The girls would complain about being called "bad women" but would mind Pap and go back in the house.
Every year there was a Fourth of July celebration planned for the community by the missionaries down at the school. The year I'm talking about was no exception. Games were planned with teams from throughout the county, and Pap's girls were allowed to go. This year's Saturday afternoon activities lasted up until around eight o'clock before the trophies were handed out, and we all knew that there would be hell to pay at Pap's house. The girls didn't seem to mind, though, so we took our time getting them home around nine or after.
The girls had reached the front porch; the dogs were quiet, when suddenly there was a loud crash. My oldest brother, for sheer meanness, had thrown a rock on top of the house and awakened both Mam and Pap. The rest of us boys ran for cover, hiding in the weeds nearby.
"Where 'n de world have you youngins bent? Wy hits de middle o' de night," Mam blurted.
"The ball games lasted 'til just a little while ago," answered one of the girls.
"Ball game, mine ass!" bellowed Pap. "Ye hoors bent out wid 'at bunch o' trash again. What dese peoples gonna fink 'bout mine 'llowin' a bunch o' ole hoors live 'round me?"
"Now, Pap, ye ort not call de, youngins 'em bad names," Mam chimed.
"I'ms told ye over 'n' over I'ms not gonna put up wid 'at pack o' trash 'round me adder bedtime!"
"'Em boys hain't bad youngins eider. Dey tells me dat some of 'em bent baptized down yonder at de mission."
"Dey can stick 'em in ever ho' twixt here 'n' de mouf o' Troublesome 'n' dey'll still be dat same dag-damned sumabitchin pack o' trash. 'N' when de judgment day comes, dey's all bount fer hell. I'm sees der daddy tomarr. 'Is's shore gotta stop 'fore I'ms hafta kilt me two er three."
As promised, Pap, with Mam just behind him, showed up the next evening right before supper complaining about us boys keeping his girls out up into the night. Dad, as usual, scolded us good and promised to try to keep us away from the girls. His actions seemed to pacify the two.
One Saturday soon afterward I remember a fine ruckus at Pap's. We boys had gone to town and returned by the local store around a mile from our house and only a couple hundred feet from Pap's. There were some strange vehicles and people at the store. Pretty soon we learned that an airplane had gone down somewhere in the area. These strangers were trying to find out if anybody knew anything about it or if they had seen or heard anything unusual during that day or the night before. There were some twenty or thirty people sitting around. Many had already begun celebrating the weekend. Nearly all had seen or heard something which they thought was strange. No two seemed to have seen or heard the same thing, however.
We boys proceeded to make our way toward home for our chores and evening meal. We had continued our weekend celebration until about nine or nine-thirty when a search plane began flying over the little valley. We had never seen light that bright or that big before. We figured out what was going on, though, and we were talking about the search efforts for the missing plane when all hell began breaking loose at Pap's house.
Mam had awakened and seen the lights. She immediately began waking up the children and all other members of the household. "Lord! Children! Git up! De judgment day have come!" she screamed.
"De judgment day is upon us! De whole elimints is lit up! He's a-gonna show up anytime!"
By then all the children had awakened and were screaming and crying. The girls began to confess some of their sins because he wasn't here yet. I learned for the first time that a couple of my brothers had been up to more than I suspected. Some of the girls crawled underneath the beds. Two even crawled up into the chimney. There was such praying going on like I had never heard before or have heard since.
Their pleading and crying for their Lord's forgiveness finally woke up Pap.
"What in de dag-damned hell is a-goin' on? What's de matter wid you damned foo's?" Pap inquired.
"Lord, Pap, pray! Hit's de judgment day!" Mam began.
Pap calmly stepped out onto the porch, lifted his long denim shirt, and urinated onto the front lawn as he very decorously assured, "Y'all go back to bed. Lets me git some sleep. Don't you foo's know de judgment day can't come in de middle o' de night!"
The night became still and quiet at Pap's house and we boys finished our weekend party with the addition of a couple of Pap's girls, who, fresh from forgiveness, were too excited to sleep and not so out of it to do some sinning.
