Icy conditions & falling through my shoes

Did I ever mention being poor and falling through the holes in my shoes on an ice spewed up in the ditches morning?

Circa 1951/52

Y'all, I'm here to tell you how I rolled with that situation.

So the school morning at our house was a loud, rushed, homework lost, baby gnawed book kind of morning.

Poor Mama, Poor Daddy.

Poor little Earline had fresh months old holes in the very center of her shoe soles.

I was walking on my socks and freezing my toes off.

I whined to Mama about this bothersome problem.

Mama whined to Daddy.

Daddy felt guilty for being short on funds.

Daddy looked to see if another cut out cardboard insert would maybe work again.

My soles were lost to hell............

Daddy suggested I load up in the Escambia County owned dump truck he was priviliged to drive home each night so as to get me to Old Clyde Hawkins store at the Barnett Crossroads for new shoes.

"Oh, new shoes, boy hidee".

Daddy leading the way into the store telling Old Clyde he needed some sturdy oxfords for Earline.

His exact words,

"Clyde this girl is rough on shoes, she needs new leather".

Thanks Daddy, bet Old Clyde and God in Heaven both heard that.

Old Clyde being the gifted merchant could see a sale from afar, headed to the back wall where shoes were sitting all stacked on shelves covered in dust and cobwebs from back before the sinking of the Titanic.

Old Clyde asked me what size I wore.

" I don't know".

These sole challenged shoes belonged to somebody else before I inherited them. I think they came from Bowabs in Atmore.

Town cousins are so generous that way.

"Smirk".

Old Clyde set my foot on a metal contraption and looks befuddled.

Looking at Daddy, he remarks,

" She has a good understanding".

My Daddy laughed.

Old Clyde laughed.

I had no idea what was so funny.

I knew I would have been born tall had God not turned so much down for feet.

I was told I got Mama's feet.

My Grissett side always got there first. My toes loved wrapping bed post, chairs, door jambs or whatever caused sudden stops.

I really didn't need shoes except for church and school.

This was a school day.

Shoes for me felt better when kicked way back underneath the bed for safe keeping.

Old Clyde reaches up to pull down a box, takes the lid off and wipes back the tissue paper to let the most wonderful smell of sturdy leather waft about.

I felt faint.

Oh my goodness, sturdy leather, lace up oxfords that lifted me up off the ground.

Old Clyde laced and tied me into my new oxfords with my new pair of dry socks to boot.

God is good.

I caught Jack Crutchfields bus on to Wallace school that day.

I sat with my arm on the seat in front of me, my forehead resting while looking down at my sturdy lace up oxfords in ox blood brown.

This would be a really good day.

A cold day.

A dry feet day.

I walked down the hallway to my 4th grade classroom while my sturdy leather lace up oxfords in ox blood brown squeeked like a million dollar saddle on a Kentucky Derby winner.

Euphoria was short lived as I walked to my desk with the assurance that others would notice and mention my new shoes.

One did.

Jerry Filmore jumps up, pulls his pant leg up to point to his foot, to announce loudly,

"Earline is wearing boy shoes, cause I got some just like 'em".

I stopped breathing.

Spots messed up my vision.

The world stopped turning.

EVERYBODY stopped their normal morning misbehavior to look directly at my shoes and then directly into my face.

All of 4th grade at A. D. Kelly School in Wallace, Alabama waited........

I obliged them with the shame of blushing.

I hated Jerry Filmore that day.

Jerry's Mama had him fresh shod the evening before at Old Clyde's store.

All's well that ends well.

Old Clyde made his sale, Jerry got dibs on the new supply of shoes and I didn't fall through my sturdy leather lace up oxfords in ox blood brown shoes for a long time.

*** Jerry Filmore and I were voted wittest couple when we finished 9th grade and had to fill our program for graduation with interesting tidbits.

Jerry Filmore and I were paired to walk together at graduation from W. S. Neal Class of 1959.

My last talk with Jerry Filmore was about 6 months before he passed away. We stood at Bud & Jeans Country Store at Barnett Crossroads to reminisce about the good old days and how we enjoyed our school days together.

We even laughed about our unisex leather oxford shoes in ox blood brown.

RIP Jerry Filmore.

 
 
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