As you are reading this, the Fourth would have passed, but I have fifties memories to share. The Fourth was the only outstanding holiday to celebrate and break the tedious days of the long sweaty summer. The swimming pool and rotating fan was our only relief from heat, mosquitos, gnats, and the scent of citronella. Labor Day was not recognized until much later. It had been a long time since Easter and Thanksgiving was in the far future. (Oops! I forgot Halloween.) The Fourth was a time when all business around the square, post office, courthouse and banks closed down to celebrate the birthday of our great country. The day was spent with family reunions and barbeques. The Proctors gathered at the Canoochee home of my Aunt Mae Brown and her husband, Jim Raleigh Brown that we all called Uncle Punk. Family members came from as far away as Dublin, Adrian, Summit Savannah, and of course, Swainsboro. The most distant guest was Aunt Ruth Thompson who lived in Marshallville, and always brought a big basket of Georgia peaches. The huge hog had been split down the middle and spread over wire fencing stretched over a pit dug in the ground, and had been cooking since crack of dawn, and watched over by Uncle Punk. This was long before the charcoal grill. Aunt Mae provided a wash pot of Brunswick Stew. By noon all was prepared with barbequed meat chopped from carcass and smothered with Uncle Punk’s original sauce. The travelers began to arrive and fill the tables with fresh garden vegetables, salads, cakes, pies, and churns of ice cream. Large watermelons floated in a tub of ice. After a long blessing by a local minister, we sat down to stuff ourselves. Flag were flying and veterans were recognized and thanked. My belated wish for you is a memorable celebration in 20023. God Bless America!
Write to Shirley at sptwiss@gmail.com
