Stories from the past...moments we remember

In the middle 1920’s, my dad, Albert Vernon Jones was courting Lorene Elizabeth Banks, daughter of Sylvester Leon Banks.  Apparently Sylvester was well accepted by the Jones family and he must have made several visits from Cordova to the old Jones place on Hay Valley Road.  Mr. Banks, as the stonemason, had already finished his work on the United Methodist Church in Jasper, and it seems as if he had a box or two of 6” x 6” x ½” red clay tiles left over.  These had been used in the foundation construction of the church.  Sylvester Banks gave some (or all) of these tiles to Vernon’s little brother to lay a walk leading from the front porch of the Jones farm house.  These tiles lay in that dirt for close to 50 years until the house was bought and razed by the strip-miners.  At that time, a sister of Vernon took the tiles and used them in the fireplace stones from the old house to use in the building of her new home in Jasper.  This was in the 1970’s.  She used all but two of the tiles.  I had not visited this Alabama aunt for many years, until July of 2002.  The Jasper church and Mr. Banks was one of many topics of discussion that day, and at that time my 90 year old aunt told me this story and gave me one of her two clay tiles.  I brought the tile home and have since given it, and a copy of A White Marble Church Jasper First United Methodist Church, to my oldest son.

 I remember running and playing on that walk as a child when we would visit my Papa Jones during our 1940’s ‘Texas to Walker County’ summer vacations.  I never dreamed that one of those pieces of red baked clay (and its history) would give me such pleasure some 60 years later.

 

'Lookout, Pap'

(Submitted by Willie Barton)

The Mountain Eagle
December 21, 1898

It was Wednesday of last week and a bright clear day. There were three in the party and the scene was on Blackwater. They had started deer hunting, walking in single file with Uncle Leroy in the lead and Keno, the faithful dog, bringing up the rear. 'I believe we are going to get one this time, boys. I just feel it in my bones,' says Uncle Leroy. 'Jasper, you make the drive, Jotty and I will go to the stands'. 'All right,' replied Jasper. 'Come, Keno'.

'Pap, which stand do you want?' asked Jot. 'You can have choice'. 'Well, I don't know whether I can kill a deer or not. Guess it would excite me so I would forget to shoot. Any will do me'. The question of the stand being settled each took their position and awaited results.

Presently Jot heard Keno's distant bay and a noise to his right caused him to glance in that direction, and up dashed a fine buck. In a flash he threw his gun to his shoulder and fired. The deer continued on as fast as ever. 'Lookout, Pap', cried Jot at the top of his lungs. 'He is coming your way'. Instead of looking, Uncle Leroy ran to Jot as fast as his legs would take him. 'What is the matter?' he gasped as soon as he recovered sufficient breath. 'Did you kill one?" 'Do hush, Pap, till you get your breath, and then talk. I shot at a big one, but I don't think I touched it'. 'I'll see,' replied Uncle Leroy and off he bounded. 'Yes, you did hit him, here is lots of blood'. And with a loud, piercing yell, he increased his speed the way the deer had gone. 'Here he is! Here he is!' came Uncle Leroy's voice like that of a Comanche Indian from over the hills. When Jot got to him he was standing within a few feet of the deer with his gun cocked, aiming at it. 'What are you doing, Pap?' asked Jot. 'Oh, I just wish he would move a foot or ear or bat his eye, so I could shoot him. I want to shoot one so bad'. says Uncle Leroy, taking some note of his son's esquiry as the deer, a fine 8-point buck was stone dead. Uncle Leroy was finally prevailed on to put up his gun. Jasper was called and the fine prize was carried home.

Additional Comments:
Leroy Williams and his son, Jot, lived in the Boldo Community of Walker County.
Jasper Dowdey was Leroy's son-law having married Leroy's daughter, Bertie Williams.