Page 12 - barefoot-in-the-sand-remembering-the-waning-days-of-the-hopewell-community-(1998)-bruce-c-gragg

Barefoot In The Sand: Remembering the Waning Days of the Hopewell Community (1998) Bruce C. Gragg 8/123

Occasionally, I may even take a bit of editorial license and comment
on some event or situation as I see it.

It is my desire to pass on to our children, some of the experiences
of childhood in the forties and early fifties. This was during a
fairly carefree era, although all had their own particular problems
and worries, life was generally easy. As I attempt to recall various
people or events at times I may seem to skip around a bit. Several of
the events being somewhat relived on these pages were in reality
called to my mind or came up when talking to someone. I’m trying to
present them as if I were just remembering them verbally to someone,
hopefully it will create a bit of realism for the reader. When I
relive a memory someone had reminded me of I will try to always give
recognition to that individual. This has happened quite often, and
without this help I would be in a tight spot at times trying to tie
different events together. Thank you all, for helping me remember
many of these events. Each of us at times wish we could step back in
time and relive some of the happier moments. For the readers this is
just what I am attempting to do, on these pages. During the time
immediately following the war, we were somewhat in a happier mood.
The struggles of the war years were behind us and the post war
civilian restructuring gave an aura of optimism.

Our old mail address was Rt. 2, Box 40, Jasper, Fla. However we could
get mail addressed to us at Fargo, Ga. Our mail carrier came from
Jasper to Belmont, turned and went to Fargo via the Woodpecker Route
and worked his way back into Fla. When I was real young Mr. Nat.
McCloud was our carrier, and had been for many years. He was burned
when a lantern exploded and Jack Sandlin took his place. He drove a
jeep compared to Mr. McCloud, who started out with a horse and buggy,
later he did get a car. Jack's jeep came in handy for all the
different kinds of weather and road conditions we had. He was a fast
driver, and did a good job. He usually carried a big ole six shooter,
in a holster tucked right next to his seat in the center. I don't
remember the caliber, but it looked like Matt Dillon's Big Shootin'
Iron. He had a large cash box with him to give change for various
transactions on his route. That was when the Post Office tried to be
helpful to their patrons. If he couldn't get our mail any other way
he would fly it to us and drop it in the field behind the house. We
usually knew when he would not be able to deliver the mail by jeep.
We would hear an airplane circling the house, run outside look up in
the sky and he would point to where the mail had dropped. Jack was
the son of the Post Master in Jasper. He saw a lot of the various
wildlife of our area as he traversed his route each day. Often when
we would have to meet him at the mail box he would tell us of some of
the wildlife he would see while driving through the sparsely
populated

www.LakeCityHistory.com LCH-UUID: B98DC69E-ADC1-4EE7-8817-CA941114D897