This weekend is the McClain family reunion. It is in Waco and most likely the Arkansas McClains won’t be there. Neither will I as I have opted to go to Texas in July when I can spend more time with my mom. My sister posted on Facebook that we should sit around and share stories about past reunions. So I will share a McClain story rather than a reunion story.
There are many McClain stories. I remember my mom telling about when the preacher came to the house when she was a kid. The grown ups were playing poker on an Army blanket. When the preacher, a Baptist, came they threw the blanket over the cards and money or match sticks and prepared to make nice. That was in the big house not far from the square in Star City.
I have also written about staying with E.K. (Emily King) in his apartment on the square above the drug store. The teenagers were listening to Herman Hermits’ “I’m Henery the Eight I am”. E.K. taught me how to play solitaire dominoes. We also painted some schools and a church.
But there is one story that E.K. told me that no one else in the family knows. My mom even says it ain’t so. E.K. told it to me so I know it is true. And here it is.
One December I was taking E.K. back to the nursing home in Star City. When we got to Pine Bluff I chose to a different route down an old state road. We had just passed Pine Bluff when we changed course. As we were traveling along E.K. (Papaw) said he had not been on the road for along time. He said he remembered it fondly. He then precedes to tell me that he used the route when he was younger because it was less traveled than the other routes. He said that was handy because he had filled the trunk with liquor during prohibition. He was running the liquor down to Star City and a less traveled road was an advantage for such activity.
When I returned home I went the regular route -the one by the old cotton gin where Sport, the lost hunting dog got a spell of diarrhea and we lost my dad’s favorite goat horn used to call the dogs. When I got home I told the story to my mom. She said it was not true, but then of course a father would not tell his daughter everything he did. But, he sure would tell some of those tales to his grandson. Thanks E.K. for the memories.