StoryTown Radio

Not All That I Carry

Episode Summary

*Note- Due to COVID 19, this production was recorded remotely using Skype, instead of our usual live performance at the International Storytelling Center. Our stories are important, so we got creative in how to present them. StoryTown Radio Show honors Memorial Day with a special broadcast as the cast performs a radio-play version of Jules Corriere’s one-act play Not All That I Carry. First performed as a stage show, the play is based on stories from members of the Jonesborough Senior Center, especially centering around the subject of World War II, World War I, and the Great Depression. The people in Not All That I Carry were called the Greatest Generation. They did what was asked of them, and lived through very difficult times. We are all now living in historic and difficult times, too. How we are dealing with these times here in Jonesborough has been heartening. “We’re reaching out to each other, not physically, but virtually. We’re supporting our local businesses at curbside pick-ups. Our educators have, in a moment’s notice, created engaging online learning opportunities for our children. We’re providing food to those in need through school lunch pick-up and at the food pantry. We’re doing great things, even if in small ways. But each of our small sacrifices help to uplift us all.” Corriere says, and finishes with a thoughtful question: “What will our generation be called, after this global pandemic is over? Our actions will define that. In Jonesborough and Washington County, I’d like to think we’ll be known as the Caring Generation.”

Episode Notes

STORYTOWN PRODUCTION TEAM

Written by Jules Corriere, with Anne G'Fellers-Mason

Editor                                            Wayne Winkler, WETS 89.5 FM

Stage Manager                      Phyllis Fabozzi         

CAST

Cheryl Clarke

Lee Clements

Jules Corriere

Phyllis Fabozzi

Stephen Goodman

Marcy Hawley

Sabra Hayden

Sadie Hyatt

Timothy Herron

Gregg Huddlestone

Dana Kehs

Nancy Hope Major

Anne G’Fellers-Mason

Guerry McConnell

Audrey Nidiffer

Brent Nidiffer

Juanita Nidiffer

Kathleen O’Brien

Maggie Polden

Jason Richards

Calvin Robinson

Miriam Robinson

Catherine Shealy

Anni Zimmerman

FOLLOW US ON TWITTER, FACEBOOK, and INSTAGRAM

StoryTown Radio Show@storytownjbo

Story Town Radio Show

 

SPONSORED BY:

Tennessee Arts Commission

McKinney Center

Town of Jonesborough

Wild Women of Jonesborough

Main Street Cafe and Catering

Nancy Hope and Odie Major

Episode Transcription

JULES

Coming to you from Jonesborough Tennessee, The Storytelling Capital of the World, and broadcasting from WETS out of Johnson City, Tennessee, It’s the StoryTown Radio Show. 

 

It’s May, a time when we are usually emerging from our hibernation. But this year, we’re continuing to stay home, out of concern for ourselves and our neighbors. News outlets and social media feeds speak of the sacrifices we are making right now. Homes are turned into offices, schools, and gyms. It is a different world, no argument. But in my years of collecting stories, I’ve heard a lot of stories of sacrifice, in which people literally lived in a different world- across an ocean, in a country, with different languages, and different environments. I’ve heard stories of people leaving the shelter and safety of their homes to fight in wars, to fight fires, to fight diseases. And then I’ve also sat in the historic cemeteries of the towns I’ve worked in, and sat with and listened to the silence of those who left the safety of their homes, only to return to their final resting place in the cold earth. 

 

May is also the time we honor these lost voices on Memorial Day. Usually for our program, we go out and gather stories from community members to create our monthly productions. It’s something we’ve done for nine years now. But that process is still in transformation. 

 

This month, to honor the sacrifices made in the past as well as currently, we’re bringing you a radio play, of one of my favorite all-time one-acts that I’ve ever written. It will feel familiar, because the stories in the play come from real people, our neighbors here in Jonesborough and East Tennessee. They are or were members of the Jonesborough Senior Center, though several have now left our earthly plane. But they shared the treasure of their stories with us, that we get to pass on, and keep those memories alive. 

 

We’d like to thank The Tennessee Arts Commission, the Wild Women of Jonesborough, Main Street Café and Catering, and Nancy Hope Major, and her beloved husband Odie Major, for sponsoring this program. The spirit is alive wherever its story is told. And now, enjoy Not All That I Carry. Based on the stories of the Jonesborough Senior Center members.

 

STEPHEN

Yesterday, December 7th, 1941. A Date which will live in infamy.

 

VERN

That was the announcement that changed my life. 

 

MRS. DAUERTY

Vern, honey, I’ve packed you some food for the trip. Are you sure you have everything? 

 

VERN

Yes, I just want to finish my glass of milk, mom. 

 

MRS. DAUERTY

Why don’t you take a bottle with you? It will fit in the bag.

 

VERN

No thanks, mom. It’ll only get in the way. I don’t think there’s any shortage of milk in the army. 

 

MRS. DAUERTY
I suppose you’re right. You be sure to write to me, Vern. Every week. Let me know how you’re doing. 

 

VERN

I will mom. I promise.

 

MRS. JOHONSON

Now, Rodney, you be sure to stay buttoned up, so you don’t catch cold.

 

RODNEY

I will mom, I promise.

 

MRS. HENDERSON

Now Jacob, you be sure to listen to your commanders. They’ll keep you safe.

 

JACOB

I will mom, I promise. 

 

MRS. DAUERTY

How do I prepare to give my child to war?

 

MRS. JOHNSON

What do I say, as he walks away to the unknown?

 

MRS. HENDERSON

When the words in my heart are too hard to utter?

 

MRS. JOHNSON

When you know what they are doing is right, but you pray that it didn’t have to happen?

 

MRS. DAUERTY 

When finally, the only words that make their way up, when you have so much more to say.

 

 

 

VERN

It was 1941. I was eighteen years old when Japan attacked Pearl Harbor. I signed up and went to basic, like most men my age. I was trained as a medic, then shipped overseas. We fought our way east, starting in London, then making our way to mainland Europe.

 

VERN, JACOB, RODNEY

I was there. At the Bulge. 

 

VERN

I don’t like to talk about it. 

 

JACOB

One month from today, it will be seventy-three years when it began. 

 

VERN

Seventy-three years, and I don’t think I’ve spent five minutes in the time since talking about it. 

 

JACOB

But, maybe, maybe it’s time now. 

 

VERN

The Nazis hit us hard. It came as a total surprise to the Allied Forces. 

 

JACOB

They were everywhere. There wasn’t a true front, because they were all around us.

 

VERN

I had a big red cross on the front of my helmet. I remember I put mud over it, because it was making me a target for snipers. You take out the medic, you also take out the eight or ten guys he’s trying to save. I didn’t need to advertise. 

 

 

 

JACOB

The only time you felt safe was when you were back to back with a buddy in a bunker. They were everywhere. 

 

VERN

I'd pull wounded to a safe spot if I could, and try to patch up ten-inch wounds with tape and bandage. It’s all I had. Supplies were thin, and the Nazis were winning. As the wounded and dead mounted, I looked around and thought about what a cold place this is to be buried. 

 

JACOB

The siege lasted about a month, day and night. The weather finally cleared, and our planes brokethe cloud cover. We finally had reinforcements, we had supplies. We gained the ground. But at a great cost. 

 

VERN

It was really close for a while, though. But we knew we had a job to do. We could not allow the ideology of the Nazis to take over the world. We dug in for the fight, do or die. It was a cause greater than ourselves. With great sacrifice.

 

JACOB

After it was over, the snow-white fields hid the horror underneath. I was shipped home.

 

VERN

But my work wasn’t done yet. When the European Theater was over, our unit headed out to the Pacific. I’ll never forget this. We were headed to a location which took us through the Panama Canal. When we were approaching the Canal from the Atlantic side, we got news of the bombing of Hiroshima. Some wondered if we should turn around, but they pushed forward. When we reached the other side of the Canal, on the Pacific, we got news of Nagasaki. The War was over, but there was still work to be done. I served on an island for a little longer before being sent stateside, in the hospital. I tended patients- wounded and with diseases. I finally got my orders to return home after being on the island for about a year. When I got home, I celebrated my twenty-second birthday. 

 

All I wanted was a tall glass of fresh milk. I hadn’t had one since the day I left home. Pure and fresh. And it tasted so good. I still drink it today. But I don’t think I’ve tasted anything as pure and fresh as that last glass of milk. I guess that’s it. This is what I wanted to tell. But it's not all that I carry.

 

JULES

That story came from Vern Dauerty. He shared this story with us shortly before he passed away. Thank you for your service. Vern Dauerty, I remember you. Up next, we have a story from Harvey and Madge Crain, which we collected as they celebrated seventy-three years of marriage. This is about their secret elopement. 

 

GROOM

Is that all you have?

 

BRIDE

You told me to pack only what I could carry. Now that I see it, it doesn’t look like much to start a new life with.

 

GROOM

Don’t worry. It’ll be plenty. 

 

 

 

 

BRIDE

Wait, I can’t go without letting Mama at least know I’m OK. I’m leaving her this note. “We are gone to get married. Don’t worry about us.”

 

GROOM

That was the announcement that would change my life. Well, Madge, We’re in Greeneville now. The Justice of the Peace is not too far.You sure are quiet. Is everything all right? This is what you want, too, isn’t it?

 

BRIDE

Oh, yes. I think I’m just excited. It’s my wedding night. I never had a wedding night before, so I don’t know what to say. I hope Mama doesn’t worry.

 

GROOM

You left a note, didn’t you?

 

BRIDE

Oh, yes, I wouldn’t run off and get married without letting her know. I might get in trouble.

 

GROOM

Don’t you worry. Nobody’s getting in trouble with anybody. I’ve already cleared it with my brother and his wife, and they’ll let us live with them until we get ourselves set up. They’re also going to be our witnesses. 

 

BRIDE

Oh, that is so good to hear. I’m glad to know there’s at least some people out there who don’t think we’re making a mistake.

 

GROOM

Oh, they think we’re making a mistake, and that we’re way too young. But they figure, we’re gonna do this with or without them, and at least this way they can keep an eye on us. Well, we’re here. 

 

BRIDE

Looks like it.

 

GROOM

Are you sure?

 

BRIDE

I am. Are you?

 

GROOM

I’m the one that carried you here, aren’t I? Come on. Let’s go get married.

 

BRIDE

We went in, woke up the Justice of the Peace. He wasn’t even cranky. Of course, I have a feeling he was used to it, we’re not the only couple to decide to elope in East Tennessee. His wife came down and met us, along with my future brother and sister-in-law. In a few short minutes, we were married. That was seventy-three years ago, and we are still together. 

 

IRENE

If you were to talk to me or my girlfriends, you’d think everyone around here eloped. 

 

LARRY

We met in March of 1963, late March. I was in the Army, stationed at Fort Detrick, Maryland, and my brother and his friend, Kenny Miracle had girlfriends in Kentucky. They wanted to drive out and see them one weekend, and wanted my help on the drive.  There was no interstate back then, so it took a good thirteen hours. I told them, if they could make it worth my while I’d go. I didn’t want to get down there and have nothing to do. So, they set up a blind date for me. 

 

IRENE

This wasn’t the first time one of us girls was set up on a date with a gentlemen that was nice enough to help Kenny drive. He was dating my best friend, after all. But, I had a bad experience one time and decided I wasn’t doing it anymore. 

 

HENRIETTA

Irene, please, we need you. Jane got called into work, and can’t meet up with Kenny’s friend. 

 

IRENE

Henrietta, you know how I feel, I just don’t want to anymore, after last time.

 

HENRIETTA

Kenny assures me that Larry is a perfect gentleman. Please! Don’t just do it for me- Do it for your country. It’s patriotic to entertain the troops. 

 

IRENE

I couldn’t say no to that. I walked into the room, and I noticed that Larry had tattoos. In 1963, in Kentucky, you did not have tattoos. So I pulled my friend Henrietta aside and told her, I cannot take this boy down to meet my mother with tattoos. She’s just not gonna have it.

 

HENRIETTA

Please!  You’re the only one we got left.  You have to! Just for three or four hours this afternoon.

 

IRENE

I took him down to momma’s -- across the street.And, momma raised her eyebrows at those tattoos.  But, in the mountains then, you were very mannerly, very polite and so was he.

 

IRENE’S MOTHER

My goodness. Those are colorful. Larry, would you care for some coffee and pie?

 

LARRY

Oh, yes Ma’am. Mmm, this is the best chocolate pie I ever ate. May I have a second piece? My momma always told me to appreciate any slice of heaven I come across. 

 

IRENE

The minute the praise for the cooking came out, momma was sold.  So, she just didn’t look at those tattoos and she’s been in love with this boy ever since. And, then we went over to our friend’s house, to catch up with Kenny.

 

LARRY

We just got to talking, it was probably three hours, and I asked her to marry me.

 

IRENE

Why yes, of course, Larry, I’ll marry you after only three hours! (Laughs.) Of course, I laughed at him because who does something like that?

 

LARRY

But she agreed, and I held her to it.

 

IRENE

I just thought it was really funny, but you insisted --

 

LARRY

‘Cause I was serious; I wasn’t joking.

 

 

 

IRENE

He wasn’t joking. We start writing letters, telephoning and all that, and then on my high school graduation, he come down with an engagement ring. 

 

LARRY

This here seals the deal. 

 

IRENE

In Kentucky, you had to wait three days to get married. 

 

IRENE’S MOTHER

Well, we can’t have that!

 

IRENE

Mama wasn’t gonna let me wait, so we eloped to Tazewell, Tennessee. And we took my mommy with us.

 

LARRY

She promised to make chocolate pie. We couldn’t say no.

 

IRENE

So that’s the story of a three-hour date I didn’t want to go on turned into a marriage that’s lasted fifty-four years.

 

LARRY

I told you I was serious.

 

JULES

If you’re just tuning in, you’re listening to StoryTown, Jonesborough’s original storytelling radio hour on WETS 89.5 FM out of Johnson City, Tennessee.

 

JULES

And we’re back. Next up, we’ve got more memories from the past, as we approach this Memorial Day weekend. This is a different kind of memory, about how the past comes and goes at will. An Alzheimer’s patient goes time traveling, almost every day. Sometimes, if you’re lucky enough, you can get a glimpse into their travels, and a better understanding of where they are, right now, as their memories take them on journeys that don’t always include us. This story begins as Pam and Doc Johnson visit Doc’s own Doctor, and he calls Pam in to his office. It is the early 1990’s. Pam is in for a journey of her own.

 

DOCTOR

May I see you a moment, Mrs. Johnson?

 

PAM

Sure. How did everything go?

 

DOCTOR

Physically, really, really good. You’re both in good shape overall. But, I have something to tell you. Your husband, even though he is relatively young, appears to be entering early stages of something called Alzheimer’s Disease.

 

PAM

That was the announcement that would change my life. I was working at a nursing home when this happened. I knew what that meant. Our life together would start to change, forever.

 

DOC

Now, where did it go?

 

PAM

What are you looking for, sweetheart?

 

DOC

Oh, you know…my….you know…

 

 

 

 

PAM

It started out with little things. Car keys in the freezer. The remote control on the washing machine. It was gradual. 

 

DOC

You know, it’s just wonderful. 

 

PAM

What’s wonderful, Doc?

 

DOC

How Mama always has the right thing to say. Just the other day, she told me---and it made me so grateful to have a Mama like that-- you know, she was really my aunt. But she became my Mama. She raised me from a baby.

 

PAM

Yes she did. A wonderful woman.

 

DOC

Yeah. Yeah. 

 

PAM

You wouldn’t be opening the doors for me all the time without her. 

 

DOC

Oh yeah? Is that right?

 

PAM

Remember that time, I came over when we first started dating, and I brought over some groceries to cook dinner. And I opened the door for both of us to go through. Then your Mama called you over.

 

DOC

Yeah, yeah. That’s right.

 

 

 

 

PAM

And she said, now, you treat this lady with respect, and always open the door for her. And since then, you open the door for me and just about everybody at the Senior Center. 

 

DOC

That’s right, that’s right. Yes. That’s right. Now where did it go?

 

PAM

Doc and I have been married twenty-eight years. We met at a singles dance. He came up to me and said,

 

DOC

What’s a young lady like you doing with a boy like me?

 

PAM

You did, you remember that? Oh, that made me laugh so much, I wanted to get to know you more.

 

DOC

And we did. we talked all night long until the morning. And I rubbed your legs and feet after work.

 

PAM

No, no, not that night. That was after we got married. That night we went outside to talk and get some air. Your sister and her boyfriend were at the dance, too. Remember, she came outside.

 

DOC

That’s right, that’s right. Mary. Mary came out. She said, “I was just checking up on what you were doing” And I told her that what I was doing was getting ready to kiss you. 

 

PAM

Doc! Oh, but you remember that? 

 

DOC

Of course I do. How could I ever forget? I was just telling Uncle Jack about that.

 

PAM

Uncle Jack?

 

DOC

Just talking to him about it this morning. Now, just, where is it?

 

PAM

Doc is more than just forgetful, now. He spends a lot of his days with people from his past that he loves, and who loved him. People who aren’t around him anymore, like I am. But who are still with him. You know? In his memory. We’ve been married twenty-eight years, and I wouldn’t change a day of my life. Every relationship has its challenges. But every good relationship has love enough to see those challenges through. Our anniversary is coming up, in just a few days. We always like to go dancing. Sometimes, when we dance, I know he’s not dancing with me. He’s with his mother, or his sister, Mary. In his world, he might be walking to church with his Uncle Jack, while doing the box step with me at music on the square. But the important thing is, we’re dancing, together. That’s what love is. I just hope, somewhere in there, there’s a place in his memory for me.

 

DOC

Here! Finally! Here it is! Finally!

 

PAM

What is it, Doc?

 

DOC

Anniversary card. Twenty-five years, right?

 

PAM

Twenty-Eight.

 

DOC

That’s right, that’s right. I’m just trying to make you feel younger.

 

PAM

Oh, Doc. You still know how to win my heart. I love you.

 

DOC

May I have this dance? 

 

PAM

Always

 

ALICE

That’s some hard times, but there’s also hope. I learned about living in hard times and hope when I was a little girl. It was 1931. The market had crashed a couple of years before, and Hoover came on the air to talk about a plan to help. For most of us, it was too little, too late. It was a plan without enough energy behind it, and no way to enforce. Nobody had energy. Nobody had hope. Now I lived without money before, did so most of my life, but how do you live without hope? 

 

RUBY

Hoover, now he was onto something, using a radio like that to talk to lots of folks who don’t take in a local paper. But someone used the radio better. When he was elected, he used it in a way that gave us a glimmer of hope. Mr. Roosevelt. I remember, the first time listening to him, it was in 1933 after he was elected. He called them fireside chats and talked about plans for a new deal. It would put people back to work. Help families get enough to eat. It would build roads and schools and bridges. Mostly, it was hope in a time when nobody had a job or food or security. 

 

SHIRLEY

I signed up for what was called commodities. So did a lot of families in the community. The ladies got together and shared recipes for the foods that were distributed. How to do things with foods we never dealt with before, like grapefruit, figs, and peanut butter.

 

The first taste of peanut butter I got was then. I liked it. When Future Farmers came to our school and showed us a peanut we could grow here, I got enough to plant an acre. I worked that field to keep the weeds cleared and the ground clear, all except this one patch that was overrun with crabgrass. We found out the crows had an appetite for peanuts, to, and they were all over the field. My brother and I had a slingshot and regularly took a few of them out a day, which was an extra bonus, because meat was so scarce back then. We brought them crows home to Mama. I’ll tell you this, I’d heard crow was not good eating, but mama cooked them up with dumplings and she made it taste just like chicken and dumplings. 

 

CLAUDEL

There were some talk going around about the CCC’s, but I didn’t know much about it.  It was one of Roosevelt’s things that had been helping a lot of boys.  The Country was full of boys that had no place to go, no money, nor any idea of where their next meal was coming from. I at least had a home to go to and family that helped each other. But after a couple more years, things got really slow. I couldn’t find any work, none of my brothers either. So, I caught a ride to Hennessey and went to the welfare office handling the CCC enrollment. They signed me up, and were really glad to get someone who’d made it through high school.  So many of the boys couldn’t read or write.  The pay would be $30 a month, with $25 of that going to help the family make due at home. A dollar a day! I never saw so much money! I passed my physical, with the only note being I was too thin. We were all thin. You don’t get fat eating crow.

 

CLAUDEL

I was given a train ticket and a sack lunch, and I was on my way to Oklahoma City to work on the Soil Conservation Service Camp. My number was 2501156. I answered to 156. We were turning into lean, mean machines. Five dollars a month was plenty to live off of, considering we had a place to live, three meals a day, and clothes. I used to only get one new pair of pants and shoes a year. We were given shoes, shirts, pants, underwear and even a coat. We had the dignity of being able to work. We had hope. 

 

But then that announcement came. Mr. Roosevelt, telling us about Pearl Harbor. When that announcement came, we still had hope. As soon as war was declared, they called all of us CCC boys to the camp, and swore us in. It’s a good thing we had become lean mean machines, because our next service would be somewhere overseas. 

 

RUBY

Those chats were so important. The radio was so important, it was our connection to the world. It brought us music with the big bands of the day. Tommy Dorsey and Glenn Miller. It brought us Jack Benny and Fibber Magee. And in those dark times of the propaganda the Nazis were using, to make us believe we were losing the war, we had voices like Edward R. Murrow who reported from where it was happening. Sometimes you could hear the gunfire and bombs drop as he was reporting. During those scary times, with fear too big to carry alone, we sat together again around the radio, for another fireside chat. And drew strength as he said those wise words: 

The only thing we have to fear is fear itself. 

 

CLAUDEL

My generation did what needed to be done to dispel fear and keep our country and families safe. It wasn’t what I always wanted to do, but isn’t a little sacrifice and discomfort worth keeping our loved ones protected?

 

BOB

I was too young for World War II. But I served a decade later. Just in time for Korea, But I won’t talk about that. Because I know what you really want to hear. See, I served with Elvis Pressley in Friedberg, Germany, when I was with the tank command. He was a sharp soldier. I was in D company, and Elvis was in B company, 32nd Armored Division. When we heard he was coming, we weren’t sure what we’d get.

 

ELVIS

Listen, I’m here like every other soldier. I don’t want favors. I want to do everything everybody else does. 

 

BOB

I’d see him painting posts and other grunt work like anybody else. I’ve eaten in the mess hall where he was washing pots and pans. I’ve seen him walk the guard carrying an M-1 rifle. I admired him for that.

 

ELVIS

Thank you. Thank you very much!

 

BOB

He served eighteen months and went back stateside to be a movie star and rock and roll singer again.

 

ELVIS

Elvis has left the building!

 

BOB

I stayed, and put in nine years in Germany. I’d signed up to be in longer, but. I was needed back home. 

 

RED CROSS WORKER

Excsue me, I’m looking for Bob Powers.

 

BOB

We was getting ready to load the tank back on the flat cars, and a Red Cross worker came to see me. 

 

RED CROSS WORKER

Bob. I am so sorry to have to tell you this. There has been an explosion at the Eastman Chemical plant.

 

BOB

I know. My wife said she saw something about it on the news.

 

RED CROSS WORKER

Bob, your father was at work when it happened. He…he was killed in the explosion. Your commander set us up with his driver and cut orders to get me you of here tonight. 

 

 

 

BOB

They had a courier plane was going back to home station and I got a ride on it. There wouldn’t nobody there to take me home; I had to walk about two miles to where I lived. I still couldn’t believe it. Not ‘til I walked up the steps to my house, and my sister talked to me. The funeral made it real. I went back to Germany right after, because I had extended for another year, but they didn’t hold me to it. I was allowed to go back home to help take care of family. Like my father, I went down to Eastman. It was hard, but they had the best pay. I turned my application in on Friday, and on Monday, I went to work, and stayed there for thirty-one years. 

 

JOHN

I joined the service at twenty, wanting to see the world. I was stationed at Ft. Jackson. All of 800 miles away. Next, they sent me to Montmouth. 400 miles closer. Next was Ft. Detrick, Maryland, where they train you for chemical warfare. Yeah, three duty stations, and this one put me 250 miles even closer to home. I finally got word that they were going to send me to Korea for a training. I was all excited, the someone comes in and says, “Good news, the army’s put a freeze on travel for now.” So John spent his trip around the world at Ft. Detrick. 

 

OWEN

My grandfather, he really saw changes happen in his generation. He was born in 1893, and grew up at the turn of the century. He cowboyed out in West Texas when it was covered with buffalo grass up to your thigh.  They ran Mexican cattle on that land and overgrazed it.  Now, all you see is mesquite and dust. 

 

GRANDFATHER

It’s one of my greatest disappointments. They misused the land. Didn’t think about the next generation, or the impact they’d have on it. Always gotta think ahead.

 

OWEN

Grandpa wasn’t one to sit and reminisce much. You got his stories as you worked with him, and they’d come out. One day, we were riding around in a Nash Metropolitan, heading out to check on some fences. As we were driving down the road, a car came by - a teenager. He had glass packs-pipes were so loud that it rattled the windows on the car. 

 

GRANDFATHER

Mm, every generation has his noisemaker. 

 

OWEN

Uh, what do you mean, Grandpa?

 

GRANDFATHER

I remember when I was a young man, we’d ride into town, whoopin’ and hollerin’, bring our horses to a screeching stop, tie ‘em up.  We’d loosen our spurs so they’d jingle off the boardwalk.  We walked up and down that boardwalk jingling all day long.  Yeah, every generation has his noisemaker.

 

OWEN

I thought about it, and that’s really pretty perceptive, you know?  I hadn’t thought about it. The generation today has ringtones that go off everywhere. 

 

GRANDFATHER

(Chuckles) You know what the city manager worried so much about in those days? 

OWEN

No, what?

 

GRANDFATHER

What they were gonna do with all that horse manure when the town grew. Funny what some people worry about. They were trying to solve the wrong problem. See? They weren’t looking forward to the next generation. Sometimes, you gotta let go of the things you’re carrying, so you can see what might be next. Or else, you’ll find yourself worrying over a bunch of manure that doesn’t matter. 

 

OWEN

He was quite a philosopher. As you think about it, how many times have we worried about things that really didn’t matter?We didn’t need to worry. He saw our nation change like no one else.  He went from horse and buggy days to space travel and he took it all in stride. I hope someday that I’ll have the wisdom to move from where I am, into an uncertain future, with such grace. 

 

JULES

We’re here, right now. What will this time say about us, as a generation. Will we do great things in this great time of crisis? The future will tell. And our past shows us that we have met greatness with grace before. We can do it again. If you’re just tuning in, you’re listening to StoryTown Radio Show, Jonesborough’s original storytelling radio hour on WETS 89.5 FM out of Johnson City, Tennessee, and available on our StoryTown Podcast. 

 

JULES

We’re back from a short break, and we’ve got more stories for you. I want to remind you that all of the stories performed tonight come from real people, right here in the area. We asked them, “what’s important to you?” and “Tell me about an extraordinary time you lived through.” Its so good to hear these stories, especially right now, as we live through our own shared extraordinary experience. We’re living through history. Just like them. To give us an historical look at this time of great change, we go to our friends with the Heritage Alliance, for one of our favorite segments, “Ask the Historian.” Anne has pulled together some voices from World War I on the home front. for a closer look. 

 

ANNE

World War One, the War to End All Wars, engulfed Europe from July 28, 1914 through November 11, 1918. The United States officially entered the fray on April 6, 1917. By war’s end, over 4 million American soldiers had served. Over 100,000 soldiers were lost to combat, injury, and disease.  The Selective Service Act of 1917 required all males between the ages of 21 and 30 to register for military service. The age limits were later extended to 18 and 45, and over 2 million men registered for the draft. 

 

Over 5,000 men were registered in Washington County. Fifty eight of those men never returned home. Nineteen of those soldiers were from Jonesborough. The war was brutal on the Western and Eastern fronts. Back on the home front, there was a duty to fund the war through the purchase of liberty bonds and liberty stamps. All of the following sources are taken straight from the Herald & Tribune.

 

TILLY

Your bond may bring him home in safety! Washington County Ranks Seventh – A report compiled in the office of State War Savings Director T. R. Preston, Chattanooga, shows that Washington County ranks seventh among the 96 counties of the state in the sale of War Savings Stamps up to Sept 1. The sales for the county amounted to $360,525.75 or a per capita of $10.73 for each of its 33,611 inhabitants.

 

Of the upper East Tennessee counties, Washington leads them all, the per capita of some of her sister counties fallings as low as $2.75. The total face value of stamps sold in the State to Sept 1, amounted to $17,401,587.33.

 

In addition, Washington County women, guided by Mrs. E.M. Slack, collected canned food for the boys in the training camps to supplement their Thanksgiving dinner. Under her direction, Washington County raised the third largest amount in the entire state.

 

GENEVA

Thank you, but there is so much more to do. You can help suffering Belgians. The Jonesboro Chapter of the Red Cross has been asked to collect 5,205 pounds of clothing for Belgian sufferers. Any kind of clothing – shoes, caps, hats, clothing for men, women, babies and children for all ages is needed. Any kind of clothing that is usable will be accepted.

 

The campaign for the collection of this clothing is open from Sept 23 to 30. All Auxiliaries and all persons in the county are earnestly appealed to for help in this campaign. Look up all castaway clothing that could be used by the unfortunate, homeless, hungry, naked Belgians and bring or send them at once to Mrs. Gus Bodrick at the Jonesboro Inn.

 

ANNE

There were multiple ways to help the war effort and those in need, including purchasing the right piece of furniture.

 

FLORENCE

Ladies, before you prepare another meal ask yourself these questions. How can I reduce the wastage of food in my kitchen?  How can I save an hour a day to do knitting or Red Cross work for Uncle Sam? How can I save my energy so as to be better able to help Uncle Sam? The Napanee Dutch Kitchenette is one answer.

 

The Napanee Kitchenette enables you to place every kitchen utensil so that it is within easy reach while seated at the sliding table of the kitchenette. It enables you to prepare an entire meal without having to walk backward and forward from one place to another in your kitchen as is ordinarily necessary.

 

These two factors alone will enable you to save a day in doing kitchen work. Because all the food can be prepared and kept at one place, it reduces the wastage of food. This is another big item to be considered. The Dutch Kitchenette should be in every kitchen because it conserves food, time, and energy. It makes the kitchen look more attractive and transforms kitchen drudgery into a pleasure.

 

ANNE

Have a Dutch Kitchenette delivered to your home on our easy payment plan. Come to our store and select yours today. We will place it in your home and allow you to pay for it at the rate of $1.00 down and $1.00 a week. Help Uncle Sam by placing a Napanee Dutch Kitchenette in your home. Food will help win the war, don’t waste it.

 

VIOLET

The pressure was not on the battlefield alone. Tensions were high at home, and they only grew as the rationing increased. There were heatless days and meatless days, sugarless days and wheatless days. Everyone was feeling the pinch.

How the War is Hitting the Newspapers – Steps Taken to Prevent Paper Shortage. Under an order issued by the War Industrial Board all weekly newspapers are required to reduce the amount of paper used 15 percent, beginning Sept 15.

To meet this requirement of the government, the Herald and Tribune must either reduce the number of pages or cut its circulation. We do not find it practicable to reduce the size of the paper at this time, so we are forced to accept the alternative of reducing our circulation. We appreciate the large list of readers we have, and would be glad to continue carrying those who do not find it convenient to pay up at the expiration of their subscription, but we must meet the demands of the War Board. In view of this fact, we cannot continue those who are as much as THREE MONTHS BEHIND unless paid up by September 15. Those whose subscriptions have been due for some time need not be surprised when the Herald and Tribune ceases to reach them after September 15. Better to pay up today before the knife is applied.

 

We also have a large number of exchanges, practically all of which we are compelled to discontinue. This we regret to do as we get as much inspiration and many ideas from out contemporaries, but we must all save, sacrifice, and serve in order to win the war and crush the power of the world’s blackest criminal.

 

 

 

EVANGELINE

“Meatless” days and “wheatless” days are necessary and it is proper that they should be observed so far as possible, but there is a certain class in the country that are more given to “worthless” days than any other sort. Of what use is it if the patriotic Americans observe the days designated by the government for the conservation of food, if worthless, idle loafers hang around street corners and stores and depots in the rural districts and consume that which others produce? What right has the government to draft the flower of the land and send them to the front, and permit a lot of drones worthless, no account barnacles of society who happen to be over the draft age, to remain at home in perfect security, not only refusing to help fight the battles of their country, but imposing their worthless presence a burden upon the efforts of others?

 

The preachers, the papers and the people of the country seem very much afraid that the boys in khaki will get into devilment in France from which they should be protected. The trouble is we are thinking too much about what May happen and too little about what is happening. The boys in uniform are not dreading the dangers of what is ahead of them but what is behind.

 

Assure them that the loafers at home will be put to work producing something for them to fight with, and there need be no fear of what will happen when they are strung cut in France.

 

ANNE

The lessons of World War One and its ramifications are still felt today, one hundred years later. Let us never forget. We remember all those who served, both abroad and on the homefront. We remember the families who rationed food and the women who lead canned food drives. We remember the 58 soldiers from Washington County who perished during the Great War.

 

JULES

Thank you Anne. As we’re now looking at food processing plants slowing operations somewhat, some of us are also looking into the “Meatless” day option, and many of us are cooking to make meals into left-overs. Some of us have started our own versions of victory gardens to sustain our families. Great times ask us to consider making changes. It’s how the human spirit has adapted and survived through the ages. Here’s another memory, stretching back to World War I and World War II, that hold a lesson for us today, as we continue tonight’s stories.

 

JOELLEN

My grandfather joined the Navy in World War I. He was stationed at the Brooklyn Naval Shipyard for a long time and he went back and forth across -- I don’t know how many times. On one of these trips, they’d been out to sea for a long time and running low on food, and so they cooked the ship’s mascot -- it was a goat. They cooked it on a shovel in the boiler and ate it. He was a machinist mate, worked on the boilers and the steam    engines. One thing that was really good about that- it helped our whole family was when he came back from the war.  He was hired by a cotton mill in Georgia and the main reason he was hired was because he knew about steam engines. So, that kept my family safe through The Depression because he never lost his job. My dad joined up in World War II. He didn’t talk much about his experience, he wanted to put it behind him. But when he got home, see, he was interested in textiles because of grandpa. So Daddy went to college on the GI bill, and studied textile engineering, and got recruited at Eastman. So, it may sound strange, but in a way, when my grandfather and father fought in the war, the things they learned help make their lives better in the end. Even if they don’t talk about what’s in between. Overcoming hardship. Overcoming Fear.

 

MAGGIE (LEE)

And coming out stronger than ever. Though some things are harder to come out of than others. Somethings you carry with you the rest of your life, and you can’t put it down, not for anything. I have six living children and an angel.  My oldest daughter is about to become 37, and five following after, about every two years, to the youngest at 28. And, then I have my Caleb, who’s my angel. He would be 26. He was a beautiful baby.  He looked just like his daddy, but in just eight weeks he became very spoiled.  He had us at six o’clock every night, no matter what I was doing, I had to take him outside to go for a walk or he would not stop crying.  And, then September 7th, we went to the store and got his formula and he met the neighbor lady, just laughing and smiling. Then we went for his walk at six o’clock.

 

Caleb’s older brothers had learned the song, I’ve Got the Joy, Joy, Joy Down in My Heart, and they would stand behind him in his swing and sing. I put him to bed; about six o’clock he started fussing and I was so tired.  You know, I had the other five kids taking care of ‘em, and I just was, you know, was like, “Caleb, please give mommy a break.”  And, he settled down. 

 

The next morning I got up. I got his sisters off to school.  The boys were out playing and I came back in ‘cause Caleb never slept this late. I went in. “What are you going do, sleepy head?  Sleep your life away?” And, I noticed then that something wasn’t right.  I picked him up and turned him around, you know, ‘cause I had him on his belly like you were supposed to do, you know, so they didn’t choke.  And, he was gone. SIDS. Sudden infant death syndrome. I still don’t have the words to describe the pain and grief. The words I wish I had are the ones I wish I’d spoken. Now, before I hang up the phone with any of my children, or see them off after a visit, the last words I say are “I love you.” Because in this great world we do not understand, those are the best words to leave with. Anything else is just too much to carry.

 

DANA

My generation is about abundant love. And strength beyond measure. 

My mother was fearless, and strong beyond measure. Or seemed so to me. So was my father. They met, by chance, or by fate, if you believe in fairytales, which, I do, being half-Irish. It’s a requirement.

 

My mother, Ida, was young, a teenager, living on a small farm in Ireland when her mother died. It was during the war, and she knew she’d need to find a job somewhere in the city, to take care of herself. She moved first to County Atrim, near Belfast, but it held nothing for her. She jumped a cattle ship to London, England, to begin her life adventure.

 

She worked as a waitress at the Royal OC. While there, she met a G.I. My father. He had come to England for compassionate leave after his brother Craig, a bombardier, died in one of his missions and was buried at Cambridge Military Cemetery. My father, being new in town, couldn’t find it. He asked my mother for directions, and she, being Irish, decided to just take him. They walked together until they got to the gate, where he went in alone to sit by the grave. She was no kin to him, but she still cried. She knew about loss, too. After two weeks of compassionate leave, he had to go back to the war, but by then, the two of them had fallen in love. He’d visit her every day and bring her flowers and on the last day, he asked her to marry him. They did, and the next morning, he flew back to join the fight. She said, “Johnny, I promise, I’ll pray for you each night”

He said “Ida, you do that, till you’re back in my sight.”

 

She was more than just a war bride. It was a lasting love. And they’d both have to wait for it to be fulfilled. Even after the war ended, they couldn’t be reunited. There were thousands of war brides, boarding ships, heading for America. She boarded for the long voyage, knowing that any bridge left standing husbandless at the dock would be sent back to port, and go back to their own country. This happened a lot. 

 

Dad made it home, Mom joined him a year later, on a ship filled with war brides, many of whom turned right back around for Europe when no one met them at the dock. I remember my dad as a young, strong man. I never got to see him grow old. He had a heart condition. My mother said, it was because it was too big, and he tried to carry the world in it. But he and mother were together long enough to show me what true love really looks like. The family still gets together at reunions and holidays to tell the story of Ida and Johnny, and a love that has lasted through the ages.Irene and John, I remember you. You make me proud.

 

JULES

One life makes a difference, and lights a way in the world. During this time when so many lights seem to be blinking out, just as they did during the last pandemic, the last World War, and the World War before that, continue to hold this in mind: Those lights, no matter how briefly they lit the way on earth, they mattered. They made a difference. Our job, in their absence, is to continue to be the light, and brighten the path of others along the way, to carry each other forward into a new, brighter future. 

 

From all of us at StoryTown, goodnight until we see you again. Until then, Be Well, stay healthy, and keep lighting the way.