Tuesday, February 16, 2010

Skinny-Dipping in Derita

As I Recall . . . memories of a local boy
Skinny-Dipping in Derita


I want to tell a little tale about a half dozen teen boys from in and around Derita in 1951 or '52. We were just a bunch that spent most of our free time together, be it working-playing or whatever. None of us had a car so we went most every where on our bicycles.

We were all gathered at Mullis Grocery Store one real HOT morning. School was out & we were just hanging out in the shade of the big water oak in the parking lot. Any of us lucky enough to have a dime was no doubt drinking a Royal Crown Cola or a Pepsi. One of the guys, I think it was Ronnie, said: Let's go swimming. He didn't have to twist any arms either, we were all for that.

Now the closest public swimming hole was Harris Lake, & we had rode our bikes there before, but it was just too hot for that long trip today. I believe it was Charlie that says: "Hey! Let's go
to Mr. Gibbons' farm pond, it's sorta in the woods and we won't have to worry 'bout a swim suit." Well, we all went along with that, and we started getting
ready to go.

Before we started we went to Mr. Joe Finchers' Amoco Station and pumped-up any slack tires. Some of us oiled our chains with drainings from a used oil can. The pond was several miles up Gibbon Rd. and it was not paved and it was a rough trip on a bike.

When we finally did get there, we were all ready to hit that cool water. It was off the bike, out of the clothes and in the water right quick.

We were just getting cooled-off a bit when we heard something coming. It was Fred Gibbon in his dads' pickup truck. Well, before he even stopped the truck, he stuck his head out of the window & HOLLERED: "The Three of you get in the back quick, there's been an accident in the woods and I need your help. You don't need clothes. LETS GO!!

Three of us jumped in the back just NAKED as baby jaybirds. Now Fred didn't stop in the woods. And Fred didn't stop when he got to old Statesville Rd. either. Fred put the hammer down and made a B--line for Down Town Charlotte.

He did wait till he got to Tryon St. before he started blowing his horn. He stopped beside a parked city bus full of passengers and laid down on that horn. I've never seen so many people pointing & laughing in all my years. The only place we had to hide was behind each-other. I believe the other two guys were Johnny and Leon .

Well Fred had enough fun and finally took us back to the pond, but he rolled-up the windows and locked his doors and did not come to a complete stop. We all jumped out as soon as we could. We all talked about what we were going to do to Fred, but you know, we couldn't be too mad at Fred for laughing at ourselves and each-other. --- Fred

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Most Local Roads Were Gravel or Dirt

Thanks, Fred.
And thanks for pointing out that Gibbon Road had NOT been paved back then. Eagle Scout Rick Hyman, who grew up in Hunter Acres and delivered The Charlotte Observer by bicycle, wrote in my Scouting Photos email newsletter that he traveled the gravel road into Derita each day to pick up his papers. . . Folks were astonished. Gravel Road?

Chatting with T.D. Little last month, he reminded me that for a long, long time the pavement on two lane Graham Street (known as Derita Road back then) stopped at Norris Avenue, where the huge old Cemetary Monument works sat beside the railroad tracks. . . No such thing as a paved 4-lane or a planted median.

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Boy Scout Skinny-Dippers

I guess everyone has a favorite Skinny-Dip story worth telling. I know I've got a few that some of my friends would find pretty embarassing, if I put them in print. . . But here's one from Jack N (from my Scouting newsletter) that several of us can probably identify with.

Jack and Randy were Boy Scouts in Troop 14 back in the late 1960's. They lived in Arvin Hills, off Nevin Rd.and enjoyed many of the things teen boys do. Especially, "Fishing."

Now there are a lot of small lakes in our area, but the very closest was just down the street from Randy's house at the bottom of the hill on Lake Drive. Of course, it couldn't have been that simple, because that was right out in the open and the lake was POSTED. But a ways up the well-forested shoreline, there was an old boat chained to a tree. They surmised that they could slip into the boat, edge out away from the dirt bank and probably set themselves to catch some big ones in the deeper water.

Well, it was a good idea, I guess, but the fish were just not biting. The sun had shifted and was now overhead and beating down on them. It was getting pretty hot --- and one, or both of them, thought how refreshing it would be if they just stripped off their clothes and slipped into the cool water for a swim. . . which they did. Not naked, of course, but in their bvd's.

Jack says he didn't think they were making all that much noise as they splashed around, but suddenly they heard a big gun fired into the air. KA-BOOM!! Neither boy stopped to look who it was or if the gun was even pointed their direction. They just hit the bank without delay. . . In fact, they moved so fast that Randy didn't even stop to pick up his clothes and ran all the way home in his underwear.

Well, that was Jack's story.

One of mine was pretty much the same, except I was a lot younger and there was no boat. I was still "the Tag-along" Little Brother with my older brother and his friends. We had gone in wading at Nye's Lake in Allen Hills "to free a fishing snagged line." Never heard a gunshot, but Maxwell yelled, "Somebody's coming!" and we headed for the woods!
--- Bernie Samonds