Stories?

Everyone has a storey or two. Don't you? Sure you do!You may not want to share or think anyone would be interested. Something I've never dwelled upon . I ve got tons of stories, some even resemble the truth or what may have happened. The best I can remember . Not that I would wreckless with the truth.


Many cultures pass down a oral history. Our's does the same. Not as formal as others. We all seek sense of roots. Family or community anecdotes and actual history. I remember setting on the front porch on summer nights. watching the moon rise over the knob. listening to my dad and who ever dropped in. Mostly Merrile McGee or sometimes Raymond Rhine or Chester Perry.
Spring Run didn't have a large selection of neighbors to choose from. They would talk about the current event like the Apollo program and going to the moon or when they were young.

My dad a pretty good story teller himself. But , I also spent countless evenings at the store/post office/garage known as Bairs. Where Sam Stuart and Walter Groce held court. Two lovable curmudgeons and masters at spinning a yarn held court. I'm not sure either Sam or Waldo have ever been described exactly that way. Those are not the exact words I've heard my mother or Clara Bair the matriarch of the fine establishment use. I'm sure it's what they meant.

I've always been conversational. While in the Navy I honed my story telling while on long watches or boat runs. A little later on long car ride to climb or ski. Most of those with Tim G. enough that one of us could start a story and the other on finish it. I wrote monthly for the Pa Mountaineering News letter and actually had a few articles published by a regional magazine.

I really came into my own with bed time stories! I started reading to the boys from my collection of Patrick McMannus short stories. Some how through no fault of my own. They thought McMannus wrote all the stories about Ed Bair and me. You see. One of the main characters and best friend in real life was Crazy Eddie. Seldom have I referred to Ed as Eddie and never called him crazy. Now our parents may have tossed crazy and a few other adjectives the grand kids need not hear in our direction. We were always as serious as can be. Even when we repelled off the route 75 bridge. ( we called it the new bridge.) Using binder twine and old ropes we found and tied together. we were not even teenagers yet!

The boyze will ask even now. Tell us about you and Eddie Bair when you were growing up?

What a loaded question that is. First , not that much happened in Spring Run. Especially when left up to our own imaginations. What did happen. Even if the statute of limitation has run out. It should be need to know only. What happened in the Valley should stay in the valley.

Still there are a good many stories left only slightly embellished and based on fact. As few and far between as they may be. I also warned Ed. Nearly all injuries happened to him. The boyze know I have no glass eye Vienna Sausage Can. Or scars from a grizzly bear tearing off my leg. Old Doc Whitt fixed him so you can hardly tell. Warned the boyze not to stare. Eds still kind of sensitive. Also I assured Ed in my stories! We both come away better looking and smarter than we actually were. maybe. Better than some of our friends anyway.
Like Jimmy D. on one of our first real camping trips back along the knob. Jimmy and I were in 5Th grade Ed in 4Th . A noise woke Ed and I. After much whispered speculation about who or what may be circling the tent. We felt the need to know. So just like on Star Trek. We launched a probe. A probe named Jimmy. The following commotion can be best described. As the only time Ed and I have both at the same time spoke the same word " tar nation" We yelled! Jimmy awoke some what alarmed as he left the tent. Being in a sleeping bag and a smaller than Ed and I. All he could do was . Scream he did . You would have thought Jimmy had never seen a skunk before! Now it is possible the skunk had never seen a flying boy in a sleeping bag. Which excuses its next action. Y0u would have thought the sleeping bag would have soaked up more of the spray.

Our parents may have expected us to bugout before the night was over. Jimmy's parents living 4 miles farther up the road did not expect him to be busting through the door. t Well the route Jimmy took across the mountain, it was only 2 mile . later we found out they were actually awake in bed wondering what that Oder was a few minutes before Jimmy arrived.

All this occurred a week before school started. Mrs. Gingrich made Jimmy set out side the window the first two weeks of sixth grade. Fortunately it rained a lot . By thanksgiving with a little bit of Avon behind his ears and Jimmy was back in the class room. Now worse for the experience.