Category Archives: History

BIRTHDAYS AND BIG DAYS AT MAMA SIMS’ HOUSE

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Mama Sims

I always rolled my eyes when I heard my parents and grandparents talk about the “good ole days.”  They talked fondly about having to use outhouses in the freezing cold, and walking three miles to school every morning.  What’s up with that?  It’s like the grass was always greener during the Great Depression.  Whew!  That was way before air conditioning.  No, thank you.  But now that I am a parent and grandparent, I find myself doing the same thing, especially when I get together with my siblings and cousins.  How we idolize those magical days of our past!  Maybe the reason the good ole days are so nostalgic to us is because we are only able to touch them again in our memories.

I say I miss those days,  but when I think about it, they weren’t all so wonderful– at least not when I lived them the first time.  Good ole days are always better re-lived that first lived.  When nostalgia hits me, my mind especially takes me back to those birthdays and big days we spent at Mama Sims’ house.  There were two birthdays that were more important to us than those belonging to Washington or Lincoln– Mama Sims’ birthday, and Little Grandmaw’s birthday.

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THE “CRUB” MARKET

fresh veggiesFor YEARS, at the southeast corner of 2nd Avenue South and the Mellow Valley Highway stood the Ashland Crub Market.  Yes, you read it correctly– “crub” market.  A ten foot, homemade  sign emblazoned with black letters on a plain white background greeted travelers headed south from town, just one block from the court house square.  Almost all Ashlanders will remember it.

Obviously, it was supposed to say “curb market,” which is an open air fresh fruit and vegetable stand, common throughout the South.  At curb markets, we could buy fresh produce by the box or by the item, cash only.  It was a quick, happy way to usher those fresh grown veggies into the kitchen– especially for Ashlanders who didn’t have time to work their own gardens.

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EAU DE PARFUM

my sin perfumeWho remembers this famous brand of perfume?  It was all the rage from 1924 to 1980– at least for true perfume aficionados. My Sin (Mon Peche) by Lanvin, was created back in 1924 by a mysterious Russian lady called Madame Zed.  Here is its description by professionals who obviously have better noses than mine:

This feminine, provocative and dangerously seductive fragrant composition begins with aldehydes, bergamot, lemon, clary sage and neroli. The middle notes are: ylang-ylang, jasmine, rose, clove, orris, lily-of-the-valley, narcissus and lilac. The base is oriental – woody with vetiver, vanilla, musk, woody notes, tolu balm, styrax and civet.

Whatever.

My dad owned a small town drugstore in Ashland.  He always carried My Sin (only one bottle of it) but kept it locked up in a glass case along with one tiny bottle of Chanel #5.  It was a handy gift possibility for some panic stricken semi-wealthy guy who forgot his wife on Christmas, Valentines Day, their anniversary, or her birthday.  It’s amazing what people will pay when faced with the probability of lifelong scorn.  I can’t say for sure that I ever smelled the expensive perfume.  My mom didn’t wear it; neither did either of my grandmothers.  They stuck with Jungle Gardenia, White Shoulders, and Tabu.  I might have gotten a whiff of My Sin’s legendary fragrance when some rich lady sashayed through our church foyer, but who knows?

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MY FRIEND, MIRANDA

handcuffed manYou have the right to remain silent and refuse to answer questions. Do you understand?

Anything you do say may be used against you in a court of law. Do you understand?

You have the right to consult an attorney before speaking to the police and to have an attorney present during questioning now or in the future. Do you understand?

If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you before any questioning if you wish. Do you understand?

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HEROES JUST HAPPEN

 IMG_1077It’s the week of the Fourth of July and my thoughts turn toward our veterans and active duty military.  I am so appreciative to what they do and what they have done for our country.  It’s always a tradition at Kingwood Church to honor them on the Sunday before Independence Day.  It brings tears to my eyes every time.  And I can’t help but think of my father, Coolidge Sims.  He was a veteran of World War 2, and my personal war hero.  But “hero” is not how he described himself.  The following is a conversation I had with my dad in 2012, not long before he made his journey to heaven.  It is an excerpt from a book I am presently writing about his life.  

I had joined him for supper one evening in the dining hall of the assisted living center, and randomly we were talking about the fear of death.  He recounted a wartime story that I had never heard before.

 

“When you were young, Dad, do you remember a time when you thought you might die? I asked candidly.

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