Serving Barnwell County and it's neighbors since 1852
Finding our present world in such a chaotic state of affairs, one can easily retreat to our place of safety and comfort where we can choose to daydream about our yesteryears of growing up in Barnwell, South Carolina. For some of us, our childhood days were mostly carefree while the worries of daily living were shouldered by our parents.
Early on, even as young tikes, we understood that our small town was one of giving and forgiving. For most, it was understood that no one is perfect; that we all make mistakes.
Back in the 1940s and 50s, churches seemed to be filled to the brim each Sunday morning as folks looked forward to a good, strong message from the pulpit that would last parishioners all week long. Such was our childhood.
With the arrival of the “bomb” plant, Barnwell seemed to grow overnight by leaps and bounds. To accommodate all the new children, our school system implemented two shifts of classes each day. And yet, our ever-growing town of Barnwell remained giving and forgiving.
Here is one example: our daddy was Mockie Holland who owned and operated an Esso station on Main Street. (Today, the Barnwell branch of Enterprise Bank occupies this very spot!) Mockie was a jovial southern gentleman who was forever attentive to his customers, as well as to everyone else.
On this particular day, Mrs. Cave, of Burr Street, drove into his station and was flustered beyond belief. With tears in her eyes, this sweet, elderly lady explained her plight to her dear friend Mockie. “You see, my precious cat “Purrceefurr” cannot be found. Mockie, he has not been home to eat one bite of food in over a whole week, and I am worried to death that something terrible has happened to him. What should I do?”
Well, it took a little bit of time and worlds of patience for Daddy to listen to all the accolades Mrs. Cave heaped upon her beloved cat. With a detailed description of her pet firmly planted in our daddy’s mind, it was decided that he should call our local radio station WBAW, talk with its owner Joe Wilder and possibly offer a reward in hopes of receiving the hasty return of said cat. Per usual, our community did seek Joe’s opinion regarding such emergencies. These two men decided that a small reward should be offered and announced over the airways. Their decision pacified our lady, after which Mrs. Cave promptly purchased $1.50 worth of gas in order to continue scouring the neighborhoods searching for her beloved.
Within this same time frame, three of my classmates were about to embark on combining their efforts to come up with a spectacular idea for the school’s science fair. Have you already guessed what their project would be? Keep reading.
Roddy Lemon, Jimmy (Squeaky) Barnette and Buddy Barnwell approached our local undertaker, Mr. Henry Mole, seeking his expertise with embalming a cat for their annual science project. From the outset, our friend of Mole Funeral Home stressed that he was a mortician, not a taxidermist. All of this collaboration took place in the late 1950s.
In the meantime, our Mrs. Cave of Burr Street, somewhat more composed after two months of searching, made repeat visits to Mockie’s Esso for $1.50 worth of gas. On more than one occasion, Mockie explained to this dear sweet lady that ole tom cats had been known to venture far from home from time to time for a little excitement, an adventure of sorts ‘cause that’s just what boy cats do! By now, our Mrs. Cave of Burr Street was losing all hope of ever laying eyes on her beloved cat again!
Well, I guess you could say that it was “show time”: the day that most of Barnwell’s citizens would attend the school’s annual science fair.
My three classmates were extremely excited about their exceptional exhibit for that year’s showing. This trio felt assured that they would receive “top billing” with their ingenious science project. They could hardly wait for onlookers to applaud their efforts!
Alas, their high expectations fell far from short upon hearing shrieks and bawling sounding-forth from Barnwell’s Mrs. Cave of Burr Street. To their combined utter horror, at long last, this endearing sweet lady had found her beloved “Purrceefurr”. Now I have to say that he was indeed respectively displayed for one and all to see. Thankfully, Roddy, “Squeaky” and Buddy did have presence of mind to grab a nearby chair in a feeble attempt to console Mrs. Cave in her time of need. Their politeness definitely fell upon deaf ears. Actually, what could be said at a gut-wrenching time like this?
For the life of me, I can’t imagine the agony this poor lady suffered when seeing her “Purrceefurr” displayed as if leaping into the air for one last time. Our elderly friend was beside herself with grief, and time would have to pass before she could regain her composer. (Thankfully, I was not on hand to capture my classmates’ entry on film.)
Earlier, I mentioned that Barnwell folks were indeed a giving and forgiving people. Our Mrs. Cave of Burr Street was a prime example of this; however, as you can imagine, much time indeed had to pass before this Barnwellian could express her forgiveness to these young embarrassed high school students. Surely it was Henry Mole’s compassion that softened the shock for our friend. Besides, you could say that “Purrceefurr” was no longer lost; without any doubt, he had been found!
P.S. Yet, it was Roddy’s dad, Rodman Lemon Sr., who exclaimed, “Roddy, I told you this could be your science project only if you got ‘an alley’ cat!”
Pleading his own defense, young Roddy retorted, “But, Daddy, it was an alley cat! We caught it in the alley between Mr. Tom Bolen’s grocery store and the Diamond Hotel!”
Today, if you are standing on the front steps of the Barnwell United Methodist Church, facing Main Street, look to your left at approximately 10:30. That possibly could have been the location of Bolen’s Grocery Store. Still facing Main Street, again look to your left at about 10:55. Perhaps this was approximately the site of the Diamond Hotel. In between these two landmarks was the now infamous alley.
Okay, you tell me: science fair or unfair?
