Seems like when I come out here this porch becomes a time machine. Please excuse us old folks, we tend to remember the “good ole days” a bit to much I guess. Where I used to live the back porch had a view of a small valley rising gently to a ridge that separated us from Dalton Pike and just for logistics south of me at the far end of Blue Springs Rd was Red Clay State Park, where the Cherokee held their council meetings back in the day. If you went over that ridge on a clear day you could see Big Frog Mountain…at the entrance of The Cherokee National Forest…well that is another story to be remembered and told some other evening here on the back porch. There is always somethings comforting about the past, might be we been there and it can’t hold any surprises for us. The past is sorta like an old winter coat, worn and frayed but always filimilar and warm. So here we go again…

One of my favorite comedians James Gregory has had some hard times lately, health wise but I can understand that. James is about 77 years old and I slide in at 80…Age is a gift and at my age seeing as how God has my time listed in the book of life…I thank Him for this longevity, it wasn’t anything I did. One of James Gregory’s thoughts about life is always on my mind when I come out here on the back porch. What happened to the Front Porch? It is Mr. Gregory’s theory that the world changed not for the good…ever since we moved to that Deck…a Deck on the back of the house. It is his contention that you can’t see nothing from that deck…nothing at all. You know he is right! Also for us old folks the memories of the front porch can give some comfort in these days. Now my grandmother, whom I will from this point on refer to as Nonie, may she forgive me but I am not sure that is the right spelling but I am going with it because in the interest of space it is shorter than the other. Nonie and Pop lived in Chattanooga, Glenwood to be exact. They had one of those uptown front porches, the kind that had these fancy double glass doors that opened off the living room to the porch. The porch was screened in and on the end of the house, with the driveway running beside it to the garage. Stay with me now…believe me all this is important. Nonie and Pop’s house was right where Derby Circle and 4th street came together. This is important because one of the main roads into downtown Chattanooga was Third street and it sat exactly dead center of the best seat on the porch, even though it was a good three blocks away but the view was unobstructed. Also right there is where the bus stop was. How long ago was this? Here is a hint…every morning M-F about 8:30 all the maids, well most of them would get of the bus and head to their respective houses. Now Nonie if she were on that porch would count those maids and that would follow with a comment, one way or the other…somebody is short a maid, or somebody got a new maid! Just like James said…”you can’t see nothing from that deck”. When I started to write this I wanted to be as accurate as possible. This would have been in the early fifties and segregation was a big thing in the south. Pop would sit on that front porch and watch every person who walked by in any direction. If he didn’t recognize them, he would give them that long stare. But here is the difference. If that person was black…let me make that brutally clear…a negro, well Pop would stand up, raise his voice a little and say “what are they doing here…they don’t belong here!” Some things about the good ole days weren’t all that good. Some of you will remember those porch swings, not the one that hung from the ceiling but those metal slatted ones that rocked and if the sun got to them when you sat down they could leave a mark. The swing was for Nonie and Aunt Mattie when she was there…Pop got the sway back metal slat chair. If you had company you brought some chairs out from the kitchen. It would have been a mortal sin to bring one from the dinning room…those were the fancy ones for special dinners and such. We kids, well we sat or reclined on the floor which could be tile or painted concrete. Nonie’s house was on the lower end of Glenwood, it had concrete.

Well I could write a lot more but it is getting late. I’ll go in and get to bed but leave you with this thought. One wonderful memory of those evenings on the front porch… the Katydids as the night began to set in and another late summer day wound down they would began their rhythmic song. I always thought of it as my song of the south.

May God Bless Us All

Kurt