Adventurous Jimmie tricks the older boys

The year was 1918, life was carefree for a small, young boy named Jimmie. He was unaware of the hardships of the war, as he felt he was a wealthy young man. He had food to eat and a home for shelter. His days consisted of roaming the woods, exploring caves, or lying in the grass watching the clouds float by.

Sometimes his carefree days hit a little snag when the bigger boys took pleasure in tormenting him. He would sit on the bank and watch them swim in Center Creek. Not knowing how to swim, he would marvel at the tricks these guys could perform. He watched in awe as they would swing out on a rope and jump into the water below.

Someone had managed to install a swinging bridge over Center Creek, about a half mile east of the road, now called Highway 43, where the river begins to curve to the north. Two cables were tied to trees and foot boards were used for walking across the creek. This new bridge made swimming more fun and challenging for those bigger boys.

Those boys were aware that little Jimmie could not swim and they enjoyed sneaking up behind him as he watched the horseplay in the water. They would push him in just to hear him scream. At least they were good at dragging him back out of the water before he drowned. Jimmie patiently waited for the day he could get his revenge.

One day, as Jimmie was rummaging in his house, he found the carbide his brother had used in the mines and shoved some of it into his pocket. As he watched the bigger boys having their fun in Center Creek, he caught a movement out of the corner of his eye. One of those bigger boys was sneaking up on him. Jimmie had the carbide ready in his hand and threw it on the boy who just happened to be wet, having just gotten out of the water.

Well, when that carbide came in contact with the wet skin, it sizzled the boy’s hide as he hit the water running. The whole gang wanted to attack young Jimmie, but they had wet skin, and Jimmie was still holding some of that carbide in his hand. Jimmie felt pretty powerful with his new found ammunition.

The next day, as the bigger boys were heading  down to Center Creek, they stopped by Jimmie’s house and invited him to join them. Jimmie stepped back into the house to gather his carbide ammunition. He loaded his hip pocket with the carbide and stepped outside. Those boys were waiting and one had a bucket of water which he immediately threw on the back of those overalls. Jimmie went to dancing, trying to rip off those pants. The bigger boys were rolling on the ground as they laughed, proud of their revenge.

Earlier in the year, an influenza epidemic had hit, and the school was closed for 10 days, which thrilled Jimmie to no end. Ten whole days to run and do as he pleased. But little did he know that there would be a price to pay for that unexpected freedom. When school reopened, the students found out that they would have to attend school on Saturdays for the next 10 weeks to make up for those days of freedom. Jimmie loved his Saturdays and to take them away was a terrible punishment. To the carefree young man, he felt like he was in prison.

By the time those 10 weeks were up, young Jimmie was itching to go for a walk in the woods and explore some caves. His favorite was the Double Barrel cave, located close to the swinging bridge on Center Creek. He spent the whole day looking for arrowheads, and he found some good ones. As he explored, his imagination would get carried away. He imagined that he was living the lifestyle of the Indians. Jimmie felt so peaceful as he thought about the Indian women washing their clothes on the banks of the river, cooking the fresh meat that the men had just killed in the woods, and playing games with the other Indian children. He loved his youth and free time along the banks of Center Creek.

Well, the year is now 1946 and Jimmie is 28 years older. That same little boy is now a grown man who still has the yearnings of a lad to walk in the woods and explore the caves. He still likes looking for arrowheads but in a more respectful manner. In the cave, he finds a treasure trove of dry terrapin shells and muscle shells. With shovel in hand, Jimmie starts digging very slowly so as not to damage any of his finds. About 30 inches down, he comes in contact with a flat limestone rock that is pretty good size. After digging around the rock, Jimmie wedges it up and there beneath the rock is the grave of an Indian child. Jimmie determines from the size of the jaw bone that the child would have been about 3 years old.

Jimmie found out that the terrapin and muscle shells (according to local legend) had been placed over the grave as a food supply until the child reached the Happy Hunting Ground. As a lad, laying in the grass watching the clouds, Jimmie never imagined that in the future, his exploring would uncover a piece of history that was never meant to be disturbed and a treasure trove of arrowheads that were left in the grave of a young Indian child on the banks of Center Creek.

Indian history in our area is scarce. But many arrowheads have surfaced throughout the years. We have many small caves, which usually contain some Indian artifacts. With the many years passing and lots of youth searching the woods, I am sure most of those artifacts have disappeared.

But thanks to Jimmie, the memories of an adventurous, young boy along Center Creek have been preserved.