Join LadyG as she shares a storytime about some big ass pancakes, a gaggle of cousins, cane syrup, Uncle Bill, Madea, and her favorite R&B/Soul jams from 1977-ish.
**Post titles always include a lyric from one of the songs highlighted in the audio.
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“A Family Conversation” is a storytelling audio series that features weekly discussions between blogging cousins LadyG and Ron Brown on current events along with some of our favorite posts from each other’s blog.
“A Family Conversation” is published on Wednesdays.
True Railroad stories are written by my father, who tells funny, thought-provoking, and heartwarming stories about his time as a Railroad Conductor in Georgia from the 1960’s through the 1990’s.
For train enthusiasts, Daddy was a freight train conductor.
But, before we go on, I just wanted to invite you to check out a couple of his previously posted stories, which include topics like fireflies and coal!
If you like those, you can search for more of his stories under the category titled “True Railroad Stories” (Go to the right panel, scroll down )
Today, it’s Christmas in April on Easter Sunday!
Not for Daddy, best believe he has his reasons 😉
Chile, that’s just how we do it on Seek The Best Blog!
Take it away Daddy!
It was early one cold and windy morning in December when we saw it beside the track.
It was the biggest deer with the largest antlers any of us had ever seen–and working on the railroad, we had seen many.
Even though several cars had passed within a few feet of him, the deer made no attempt to move.
It was common for wild animals to cross the tracks in front of moving trains when they were blinded by the engine headlight, so we determined that he must have been injured by one of the trains that sped through during the night before.
After a brief conversation amongst ourselves as to what to do, we decided to stop the train and go back to further investigate.
So we did.
As we walked back from the engine, we approached the deer, who was sitting in a position like a dog would take while begging for scraps at the dinner table.
It was obvious he had injuries to his hind legs.
Someone commented on how large he was.
I am over 6 feet tall, and his antlers stretched well over my head!
After discussing what to do, one of the crew members said, “We can’t leave him like that…the humane thing to do is to finish him off …a horrible thing to do, but the right thing.”
So the one of us, who had the coldest heart, suggested striking him on the head with a metal tipped air hose from the caboose.
I’m sorry to report that this harsh suggestion was implemented.
Afterward, we loaded the “lifeless” deer on back of the caboose.
We then proceeded to a small town not far away.
When we stopped at the town depot, we decided to call the ranger station and report the incident.
After hearing the story, they elected to send a pick-up truck to the depot to recover the deer and maybe give the meat to a needy family.
Shortly, one of the rangers drove up and we all loaded the deer in the back of the truck.
As the truck was leaving, someone shouted, “Look at that!”
To our surprise, the deer was standing up on all four legs!
And, before we knew it, he leaped from the truck across one lane and a side walk to the grass where he disappeared into the woods!
To us, he seemed to be flying!
The distance was so great, it was almost as if he was big and strong enough to pull a sleigh from roof top to roof top!
And I’m convinced that he did!
-The Railroad Conductor
Lord have mercy! Looks like Daddy’nem done ran up on one of Santa’s helpers!
I’m still pissed off at the cold hearted crew member who tried to “finish the job!”
In my mind, I believe that beautiful woodland creature is still very much alive, well, and happily awaiting his next trip with dear St. Nick….in about 8 months time. LOL!!!
Today’s “Flowering Vine” entry tells the tale of an event involving my and Ron’s Grandfather (Leroy), our Great- Grandmother (Mary), and our uncle (Bernard).
-By Ron Brown
The hand of the Lord was upon me, and carried me out in the spirit of the Lord, and set me down in the midst of the valley which was full of bones, and caused me to pass by them round about: and, behold, there were very many in the open valley; and, lo, they were very dry.
Leroy’s sixth birthday was made even more special because Mary was headed into town and—as was her custom—had invited Leroy and—by default—Bernard to ride along. When Leroy turned six years old, he was already tall. He towered over his little, “brown brother”, Bernard. Leroy was Mary’s pride and joy. He was, in her words, “Grandma’s big boy”. Leroy always rode “shotgun”, while Bernard scooted from one side of the back of the wagon, to the other, depending upon which side’s sights were more stimulating.
For Leroy, what was in front of him, was much more mesmerizing than what was to the left, right or the rear of him. He sat quietly, keeping his eyes forward. Mary admired him for this trait and would often encourage him by leaning over to him and whispering, “That’s right Grandma’s big boy, keep them eyeballs peeled”.
This day however, as they rolled down the rambling road, neither Mary’s fierce focus nor Leroy’s eagle eyes could have saved them from what happened next, for just ahead of them, from out of the roadside briars and bramble shot a streak of white. It slithered swiftly and silently across the road in front of the two black mules hitched to Mary’s buckboard.
The two black mules reared simultaneously, at the sight of the albino coachwhip. The sudden jerk of the reins, held tightly in Mary’s tenacious grip, snatched her formidable form forward, in front of the wagon and behind the mules. The mules stepped back; one of them, adventitiously, stomping Mary’s thigh, fracturing her femur. Leroy heard the sickening crack as the bone in his grandmother’s thigh gave way to the weight of the thousand-pound animal’s hoof. The usually silent Leroy, screamed; the usually vocal Mary, was silent.
Leroy leaped down from his perch on the wagon’s seat, then calmed the frightened mules, whose pallid pariah, had now disappeared into the underbrush on the opposite side of the dirt road. Once the mules had regained their composure, Leroy rushed over to Mary and kneeled down beside her. She looked at him affectionately, then gently stroked the side of his face with a trembling hand and wheezed, go get help Grandma’s big boy.
Mary was careful not to instill any additional fear or panic into her grandson. Leroy worked his jaw muscles viciously, as he struggled to maintain his customary calmness. Leroy, looked sternly upon his baby brother Bernard and chided him, “Stay with Grandma boy, I’m going to get help!” and away he went, as fast as his long, lanky legs would carry him. The nearest house was just over a mile down the torturously twisting, dust-topped road.
And He said unto me, Son of man, can these bones live? And I answered, O Lord God, thou knoweth. Again, he said unto me, ‘Prophesy upon these bones, and say unto them, O ye dry bones, hear the word of the Lord”.
Mary lay quietly in the dust and sang to herself softly: