Stories like this one about Agnes Fenton are genuinely smile-inducing due to my childhood with Cora in it. She was Dr. Minnick's housekeeper and in 1955, was as spry and witty as a woman 1/3rd her age.
We kids didn't know the significance of her age, indeed she was always busy with her household chores, keeping we bunch of kids from drowning each other in the river, and this one particular day, gossiping with the neighbors. What made it specially memorable was what she said. She was busily convincing a big old cooter turtle he no longer needed his head due to his future of being the main course for supper. I was doing 5-year-old kid things and looking at the pretty red/blondie woman she was talking with when Cora said "man who get no pussy, he get mean!" I do remember the young woman was wearing a baby-bump so now Cora's observation seems fitting.
Of course at the time that meant nothing at all to me, it just puzzled me why people like my father or grandfather would get mean without a cat. Neither of them ever paid any
attention to the mostly feral barn cats we had around the farm. Her statement was a mystery!
We used to have a ball being little kids and playing in the river with one game we played called "piranha." Cora approved, I think she would have enjoyed joining us. The big kids couldn't get away with it anymore so us littles took up the mantle. When my time came due, I did my share of coaching the next generation in this fine art. It went something like this: an adult enters the water, littles' vanish underwater. Adult is attacked from below by multiple "creatures" with teeth. Adult flees for life!
As you can imagine, this was great fun for the kids and put smiles on the parent-things. I do recall one stick-in-the-mud aunt who said in all seriousness that she would like to "hold their heads underwater until they quit bubbling." Old grouch!
At 107, Cora was 12 years older than Dr. Minnick. I found out later that she was his nurse when he was an infant. She was born in 1848, he in 1860, and they had been together all that time. The house on Fish River was gorgeous and I think I've found a picture of it or one very similar:
In 1958 at the kitchen door of the house shown here (I think), 110 year-old Cora presented me with my Bible, bound in gold-embossed white leather printed on vellum with Christ's words highlighted in red. I must have done something right for a change!
Nah, never happen...
Dr. Minnick was one of the first "painless" dentists. He was quite athletic as a young man, however during college, he received a crippling injury in a football match that rendered him a paraplegic for the rest of his life. I still remember his wicker wingback wheelchair.
For something really weird, the first memory that I had happened six months after my stroke. I was following a similar wheelchair and it "dissolved" into a walker. I was receiving physical therapy. Go figure...
...back to Dr. Minnick. His house was open to us kids and he had bowls of peppermint candies around for us. Actually, that was a common practice among dentists of our time (1950's) as a reward for being such brave little troupers! Nothing like pure sugar to drum up business!
Another memory was the smell of sandalwood incense and to this day, I love it!
Dr. Minnick was a skeet shooter and had purchased (won?) a limited edition Winchester 12-12 skeet shotgun in 1922. This shotgun was feather light, had a ventilated rib sight, and a trigger reversal in place of the safety. Did I mention it was gorgeous?
Dr. Minnick went to give it to my grandfather and granddad turned him down. He said he couldn't accept a gift of such value. Some time later Dr. Minnick asked him if he had a dime and granddad gave him one. "There, you have now bought a shotgun."
My grandfather left it to me in his will and I went to carry it back to California in 1971. My sister Grace took me to the airport I referred to as "Mobile International Cow Pasture" wearing a long country dress with a hippie-chick blouse, and I with worn denim jeans, a horizontally striped yellow and black "pirate" long sleeved tee, a cut-off jean jacket, and a black, shoulder-blade ponytail with a Zapata.
...and a 12 gauge shotgun over my shoulder.
Cuban airline hijackings were at their peak, however a open carry was completely legal. Besides, this was fun! I don't imagine one could get away with it these daze (sp). The world was much more rational, there were fewer "laws" for the recalcitrant human to ignore. Ever read the book "Please Don't Eat the Daisies" by Jean Kerr? Yup. If kids of any age are told not to do something, there is no probability of it not being done. It's a 100% certainty it WILL get done. Aren't you glad we have the hydrogen bomb?
I had the Winchester appraised back in California. With its provenience, it was worth $4,500 in 1972. Whew! I took good care of it planning for MY first grandchild to someday get it.
Did you just read the word "plan"? Does god need another laugh? Stolen. I hope to god the son of a bitch that got it discovers the reverse trigger by accidently killing his grandson. Read "What Happened?" for more. It's not particularly pleasant.
I'm going to go look for more references about Dr. Minnick. I'm pretty desperately in need of good dental work and it isn't happening here. In the three days after I had my stroke, I lay alone on a concrete floor. I must have thrashed around a lot as I broke a lot of teeth. The horror story I've gone through since is absurd to the point of criminal intent. No, I'm not looking for dentistry by séance! The old style southern house seen here is a dental clinic found when I googled "dr. minnick dentist" and it's in the right place!
Stay tuned, same Bat Time, same Bat Channel...
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