In 1971 I started high school. We didn’t have junior high we had grades 8-12. The first year I did well, kept my grades up but after that things changed. I still made good grades but in math and science I excelled, in other subjects (like composition and english (surprise surprise) I did enough to get by.
My life in high school was rather unremarkable, ya I had a hot rod, I discovered beer, cigarettes and pot and I enjoyed all three.
But my little trip down memory lane took me to Dogwood Farms Road….
This is Dogwood Farms Road Now
Back in the mid 70s it was a very different place.
Back then it was a dirt road and it had only a few houses on it and they weren’t half a million dollar homes like they are now. They were what we called “dirt shacks” They very very poor lived here. One I remember very well.
Her name was Peggy Hemminger and she was the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. Despite the fact that her family was dirt poor she was very popular. I seem to recall she made homecoming queen. but I rode the bus with Peggy, who was a few years ahead of me and I saw where she lived. The rumor had it that they were so poor that on Thanksgiving one year they ate their pet…a pigeon. Now I readily admit that was probably just urban legend but it had an effect on me.
In 1969 Bobby Gentry had a hit record called “Fancy”
httpv://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q4ZCrMESar8
Peggy always made me think of this song. Peggy even looked a lot like Bobby Gentry, admittedly a much younger version. Yes I know the song is a story of a young girl turned out to prostitution by her mother and I’m not implying that is what happened to Peggy. The thing about Peggy that would bring up that song in my mind is that somehow I knew that because of her natural beauty she would escape the poverty that she had known as a child and I hope she did.
When I rode down Dogwood Farms Road I hoped in my heart that Peggys family owned that bit of dirt they lived on on Dogwood farms Road and sold it to developers and got rich.
This is the last piece on last weekends trip…It has been somewhat cleansing for me really. I talked about and thought about things here that hadn’t been in my mind in many many years, and of course some that have never really left my mind. Sure thats lots more anecdotal stories and funny things that happened to me but these were the ones that this little ride brought back in a flood so these are the ones I wrote about here.
Kayden postulated that maybe I was trying to humanize myself to porners but that isn’t it at all, it’s just me…its the blink of an eye that has been my life thus far. Some of you may get something out of it some of you wont I wrote this stuff down for me and for those of you that enjoyed it.
We will now return to our regularly scheduled programming….
4 Responses
I think we forget that we play roles in life. We can, sometimes, play many roles. I have juggled many, myself, but in playing these parts it is too easy to forget that these “faces” we put on don’t define us. You are still a boy with ties to a house your Dad built. You wanted a girl you knew to survive poverty because she was beautiful and, somehow, special. These basic feelings don’t go away. They never go away.
I interviewed Tanner Mayes today, and no matter what she has been through in her life, no matter what she has done, she just wants to be accepted and cared for by someone. It’s really just that simple. But, she doesn’t know what that’s like, yet. We all want the same things we wanted when we began to experience the world. It is healthy to acknowledge that. We deserve it. How do we humanize ourselves except by being ourselves. We’re human. We can’t help it even if we want to be something else. I can’t wait to post this interview. Fucking broke my heart.
Glad ya hooked up with Tanner Julie and Im intrigued to see the results of your interviews. I like the idea that you are humanizing these girls and I expect that out of this is going to come something socially beneficial.
I gotta give BT a big thank you for steering me to you, you are truly an asset here
Thanks Julie cant wait to see some of what you are doing.
Lemme know who ya want next!
Mike: Your memories of Peggy reminded me of a story. I met my first serious girlfriend at a ski area when I was a freshman in high school, about the same time you were a freshman in high school. So, we’re going back about 38 years. We’ll call her Annie. Her father was a prominent doctor, an accomplished pianist, and a real athlete – a scratch golfer, great tennis player and a strong skier. A couple of years after this, he got interested in mountain climbing and became the expedition doc for a climb in the Himilayas. While he had three kids, all of his hopes in dreams were wrapped up in Annie. She was blonde, cute as hell, smart and as accomplished as her dad – a ski racer, champion gymnast and a phenomenal piano player. She also had a wild streak about a mile wide that was itching to come out. Whenever I think back about Annie, a song also comes to mind. “She had fun, fun, fun till her daddy took her T-bird away.” Whatever image that song conjures up for you, it was Annie.
She was the first love of my life, for a year or so we were inseparable, and then, it all fell apart. So it goes. But they say you never forget your first, and I still have photos of her in an album from my high school and college days.
Despite being incredibly smart and talented, Annie went her own way after high school. I grew up in a community of achievers. Most of our dads were professionals or business owners, and my high school friends followed similar paths – we all went to law school, med school or B school. Annie went off to college, and she dropped out. Before I got married and moved out of town, I’d now and then run into her in one of the local bars where anyone from high school would drop in to see who was around. She was still cute and vibrant, fun to talk to, and I always left those evenings with an ache. And, then, it all seemed to change for her. There were rumors she’d started doing cocaine; that her husband left her; that she’d lost custody of her kids; that she’d moved back home and her parents had put her in rehab over and over; and that her dad was heartbroken. Then, she fell off the grid. One of her closest friends told me the last her parents knew, Annie was living on the streets. They hadn’t seen her in two or three years.
Last December, my Dad called me from his car as he was driving home from his church. “I just ran into an old lady you used to know,” he said. He’d stopped by to drop off some items at the church pantry. As he was walking back to his car, what he thought was an old woman stopped him in the parking lot. She was wearing baggy sweat pants and a big dirty parka. Her hair and skin were grey, and her cheeks were sunken. An old bag lady, Dad thought. “You’re Mr. T,” she said. “You probably don’t remember me, but I used to date BT. I’m Annie.”
And then she hit him up for twenty bucks.
After I hung up from Dad, I called our friend. I asked her to get in touch with Annie’s parents just to let them know that indeed she was still in the area and where Dad had seen her. They might have been able to track her down. Then I dug out my old photo album. I wanted to get the image of the old bag lady out of my head, and remember her the way she used to be.
Songbird!
But I cheated, I asked my great, great grandpappy.
Eh, he’s really not that great.