Dirt Road

 Charles, go to Mr. Boonie's and get me a 5 lb. bag of flour. With these words I knew that grandpa had forgotten to to get it at Pat Tice's grocery store in Midland City. I don't remember the year, but the farm to market road paving project did not start until 1957 or 58 and the road was still dirt. Grannie was a kind soul, but was quick to lose her temper and I was glad this time it was aimed at grandpa. She was "hard of hearing"(completely deaf) so when I stayed with her, which was most of the time, I had to entertain myself and my imagination was pretty active.

This was my first outing by myself and I was grown ..I was a man. Boonie's was about a mile away and I had to walk. It was mostly sand beds and hot, the sand beds were hard to walk in and there was a steep hill about 3/4 of the way there. All the sand had washed to the bottom of the hill and the dirt on the hill was hard red clay.

Since I was off on an adventure I did not notice the clay on the way, but I was getting tired on the way back. All the road was open on both sides until you got to the fall of the hill. Woods were on both sides with big oaks spreading over the road making a tunnel going down to the bottom and the closer to the bottom the darker and colder it became. By the time I reached the bottom it was so oppressive that I could hardly stand.

Where the stream went under the road, the dirt was cracked and I could see the smoke and brimstone and smell the sulfur from hell coming out of the cracks and the cries of the tormented souls came wafting up out of the bottomless pit. If I go across, the dirt will give way and I will fall to my doom. I had to get home so I tiptoed ever so lightly over the cracked clay. Almost over and I felt it......the devil had grabbed my ankle, I could feel his hot bony grip with his long fingernails wrapped around my skinny leg. I kicked, screamed, messed my pants, and called for Jesus to save me. That did it, the grip was loosed, the skies cleared up, the cracks in the ground were sealed and I was almost home.

      As I rounded the curve with the fence post on each side of the ditch, I could see granny out in the yard.  I thought that she was looking for me.  That old crow was sitting on top of the fence post,pulling back on that cigar with a smug look in his eye.  "Almost didn't make it did you boy?"  Before I could answer him, feathers flew from his chest and he looked at me with a sorrowful expression, before he fell dead, to the ground  Just then I heard the crack of the 22 rifle.  Granny said with a satisfied voice,  "That old crow has been worrying my chickens to death. I think he worked for Satan".  You do not know how true that is, granny.  Looking back now I know that I was saved then, long before I walked the aisle at Wiggins Church. True story.