Help Save the Earthworms!

Every morning when I go walking, I see them: the mummified remains of hundreds of earthworms littering the sidewalks and roadways of my route. Many of the carcasses are straight as if the worms were extending themselves as far as they could to reach safety, only to fail in the end. But, most are curled into a fetal position in their last ditch efforts to save themselves from “dawn’s early light.” I don’t know why they wait so late to start their final adventures, but inevitably, most of them get caught by the sun’s unforgiveable rays.

Death by sun exposure would have to be a bad way to die. First, with the sun beating down on their liquid-filled bodies, the earthworms begin to slow even more than their usual “snail’s pace.” Then the sun starts to heat the asphalt and concrete, which results in blistering on this side, too. They just don’t stand a chance. If the sun doesn’t finish the job, the ants usually do. Either way, this is a painful, slow, and terrible way to go.

The odds are always against earthworms anyhow. Those lucky enough to make it home before the sun can torture them to death are often eaten by birds, and some even become fodder for the fishes. Still, these previous two ways seem less painful, and somehow more humane (after all, they are helping with the life cycle), than the sun simply evaporating their insides and leaving only a crunchy outside for me to bemoan.

Thus, I have decided to save the earthworms. I don’t necessarily enjoy touching them; without legs, they remind me of snakes, which I abhor, but my compassion always wins out, so I am compelled to act on their behalves.

Mostly, I don’t find them in time to do any good, but every once in a while, I do. Take this morning for example. On my way down Northgate to do my Glendale/Country Club loop, I saw him (yes, they’re asexual, but I feel strongly that my earthworm was a male because he was plodding along aimlessly to his destination). He had almost reached the pavement’s edge, but how he intended to scale the curb and get into the grass was a mystery to me.

So, I decided to intervene. I bent down to pick up my earthworm, but he thrashed wildly until he finally exhausted himself; he simply gave up. Gently, I lifted him off the road and put him on the grass that was still wet with the morning dew. Unfortunately, my earthworm’s new location didn’t motivate him at all, and he remained still. To begin with, I wondered if in attempting to move him, I had given him a heart attack and only hastened what the sun had already started.

Even though he was on the grass now, I feared my earthworm would be dead in the 20 minutes it would take me to make my loop and return to check on him. So, I began tearing up wet grass and placing it on top of him. This action would at least give him some additional moisture and some protection from the sun. Feeling I had done all I could do, and praying that the homeowners whose grass I was tearing up hadn’t seen me, I left him. I’d done my part, but now it was up to him to do the rest.

When I came back through, I checked on my earthworm. Thankfully, he had started burrowing into the earth, but more of him was out than in. I tore up some more grass, keeping an eye on the curtains in the process, placed it on top of him, and wished him luck. Hopefully, my efforts were not in vain and the little guy had enough time and strength to get back into the ground.

Now, most of you are probably wondering, so? What’s the big deal about saving an earthworm? If he lives, he’ll probably die tomorrow anyhow. Well, yes, that’s true. He may not have made it through today, and if he does, he may not make it through tomorrow, but then, neither may any of the rest of us, and sometimes we just need a little help along the way to get through to fight again the next day. Today, I was that earthworm’s salvation, or at least, I hope I was, but it’s about more than that really. It’s about compassion, for all God’s creatures both big and small, both cuddly and slimy, and both important and insignificant. Today I helped an earthworm, but tomorrow, who knows what creature may need my assistance; perhaps, that creature may even be human. I just hope I’m there to lend a helping hand if it is needed.

Tomorrow I will be back out in force. As always, I will watch the ground to make sure no snakes are lurking in the bushes, and along the way, I will see hundreds of earthworm carcasses, but should I be lucky enough to see a live one, I will pick him up, find him some shade, cover him, and wish him the best. It’s all I have to offer, and while it may not seem like much, to that one earthworm, it’ll be everything.

Day-cation Adventures 5, 6, & 7

I have not forgotten about my adventures posting, but my Friday day-cation was rather boring. The only thing I did that was notable was to get a meningitis vaccine, which now has a rather colorful reaction site. Go figure. I did manage to get our other bedroom reorganized for practical purposes. Friday night I went to a painting party at my cousin Mitzy's house.

Here's my owl:

Saturday was a true fun day for me and Ronald. We went to Big Kahuna’s water park. My son does not like water or fun or us (he’s 13, so what do you expect), so he did not go. It was just the big kids. Big Kahuna’s is a lot of fun, but there are things no one warns you about regarding the aftermath of all this enjoyment. First off, Big Kahuna’s has hundreds, if not thousands, of stairs, and I fully believe I climbed each one…twice. Before we left, I was already feeling the major throbbing in my legs that I am still feeling two days later. Honestly, all the fun we had Saturday is why I could not move on Sunday. I can barely walk…still.

The pains aside, Big Kahuna’s is attractive and reasonably priced, except the food, but they have to make their money somehow. I predict that a return trip is in store for the family this summer when our Russian daughter comes home for a short visit! We are so excited that Polina will be with us, even if it is only for a month. L

Sunday, the final day of my day-cations was spent recuperating from Saturday. You know that people say you need a vacation from your vacation? Well, amen to that! I did get an entire Dan Brown novel (Inferno) read, but it was because just walking to the bathroom was a fete!

My day-cations are over, and it’s back to work as usual. Thank goodness!

Day-cation Adventure 4

Thursday’s “day-cation” started with a trip to Rutledge to purchase a twin-sized bed. Normally, this would not be worth mentioning except for how I had to drive home. I own a Trailblazer, and if I let down the backseats, I have about five feet of space to put in things. Apparently, I needed five and a half feet of space because my “trunk” wouldn’t close. In order to get it to close, I had to let up the front row of seats; yes, that would be my driver’s seat. Everyone knows I have long legs, which has always been a perk. Yesterday it wasn’t; I drove home with my knees up around my ears!

I spent part of my morning in the mayor’s office trying to work out details for the beginning of a new community theater project. As of right now, we will be performing Crimes of the Heart on August 16 & 17 at the Ritz Theater in lovely downtown Greenville. I have never directed a production, so I am both elated and terrified. I’m sure many of my future blog posts will be about this experience, and it will be filled with what I learn along the way.

I rounded out my morning with a trip back to the stacks in the court house. In looking for an article on an ancestor, I came across a fascinating murder of the Honorable Bartow Lloyd, age 36, who in August 1897 was shot and killed by John A. Gafford. I am going to type up the article and include it in this blog at a later date, but it’s fascinating. According to Gafford, the married Mr. Lloyd was dishonoring Mr. Gafford’s sister’s reputation. Hhhhmmmhhh!

Another article I found was a despicable piece on “Blue Gums.” It is short enough for me to include it here, but readers beware that it is a terrible article showing racism at its worse. The article is also from 1897.

Day-cation Adventure 3

After yesterday’s “day-cation” adventure with the bicycle, I have been exhausted. Believe it or not, my forearms are what really hurt! For this reason, I kept today’s “day-cation” short.

I went looking for graves again. According to one of my cousins, my great-grandparents are buried in Pleasant Home Cemetery, which is located on Ridge Road before the Forest Home turn-off. The cemetery is hard to find because no sign exists, plus you cannot see it from the main highway. The only thing you can see is a road that is blocked by a gate. Fortunately, one can walk on either side of the gate to the old church, which has been vandalized by some people who have terrible grammar skills (no big surprise, right?).

I found the graves of Archie and Stella Seale Boutwell, who was the sister of my great-grandmother Stella Seale Boutwell. I haven’t confirmed this, but I believe Archie was the brother of Stella’s husband David “Chap” Boutwell. The relationships appear to be that of two sisters marrying two brothers. Anyhow, Stella and Chap’s graves are not marked. I’m fairly certain which ones are theirs, but I cannot be 100% sure, of course.

Next, I went back out County Road 38 to where it turns into Old Federal Road in Monroe County. The road turns into a bumpy, winding dirt road that is difficult to traverse. Happily, I located Middleton Cemetery, which is where Elizabeth Stroud is buried. Elizabeth was attacked by Creek Indians during the Ogley massacre, which happened a week before the Butler Massacre in which Captain William Butler (for whom my home county is named) was killed. Elizabeth and two children survived the attack, but she died en route from Fort Bibb to Claiborne, where she was being transported for medical attention. Apparently her husband Eli Stroud was not present during the attack because he remarried a second Elizabeth, who is buried next to the first one oddly enough. Where Eli is buried is not something I know.

On the way to Middleton Cemetery, I stopped and took a picture of the Holley’s Store historical sign. It may have been the first mercantile business in the area.

Day-cation Adventure 2

I started off today with a 3-mile walk, then I was invited for a bike ride with my friend and neighbor Carrie Lambert. I haven’t ridden a bike in at least 25 years, so I was skeptical of my abilities. Apparently, the old adage is true that you never forget how to ride a bike.  I was wobbly at first, but as we rode, I gained some confidence. Hills still proved worrisome, and my quads were screaming before I got done, but overall, I had fun!

Giving myself enough time to recuperate, I followed the bike ride with my true day-cation adventure, a trip through history, at least Greenville and Butler County history from 1897 and 1922. The Greenville Advocate has been published continuously since 1865, but another newspaper, The Butler County News served lower Butler County during the early 1900s. I focused my search for the years 1897 and 1922 for specific reasons.

In doing genealogical work on my father’s family, I have discovered that two of his great-uncles were involved in murders during the aforementioned years. My father Charlie Jason Smith was the son of Emmie Boutwell Smith. Her parents were David Chap Boutwell and Stella Seale Boutwell. Stella’s parents were Philip P. Seale and Sarah Ann Saucer Seale.

Phil and Sarah Seale would be my two-times great grandparents. Together, they had nine children: Nancy, Benjamin Thomas “Tom,” Lydia, Georgia, Guy, Zell, Tirley, Earnest, and Stella. Of these nine children, Benjamin Thomas “Tom” Seale was accused as an accomplice in murder during 1897. Tom would have only been 16 at the time of being accused. I wanted to see what, if anything, the newspaper had reported on the incident. Luckily, I found two articles.

On January 30, 1922, Zell E. Seale, aged 32 and a returning WWI veteran, was murdered close to a church near his home. Unfortunately, neither newspaper had any information on this incident. It appears the papers were more interested in relaying the comings and goings of Greenville’s influential citizens instead of any actual news.

The remainder of the afternoon I spent gleaning information from the Seale file at the Butler County Historical Society at the Greenville Library.

Another great day-cation!

Day-cation Adventure 1

Between the spring and summer terms at LBWCC, faculty members get a week off. Unfortunately, that week comes during the middle of May when our own children are still in school. So planning a great vacation is pretty much useless.

Therefore, I have decided that I will use this week going on "day-cations." Each day this week I will go on an adventure that can be completed within the time frame of 7:30 a.m.--3:00 p.m.

Butler County has been the home of my ancestors since 1826 (that can be verified, but rumor has it that we've been here longer). All of my two-times great-grands forward are buried in various cemeteries around our county, so for today's adventure, I paid my respects at the graves of several of my ancestors.

My journey started at Old Shiloh Baptist Church Cemetery, which was established in 1842. Buried in this cemetery are my paternal great-great-great-great grandmother Mary Teat (1808-1906), her daughter Matilda Teat Wilson (1830s-1910), and Matilda's husband David R. Wilson (1825-1910). The last two are my three-times great-grandparents.

Next, I decided to go all the way out Ridge Road (County Road 58) to County Road 11 (Creampot Road). On the way, I stopped at Crenshaw Cemetery, a beautiful place where some of my Crenshaw friends have family. Mrs. Olga Morton, a Civitan friend who passed in July, is also buried there.

While in Monterey & Forest Home, I stopped at cemeteries, but I have no known kin in either of those places.

Next, I crossed Highway 10 and went to County Road 5, Bibb Road, which eventually lead back into County Road 7 (the Butler Springs half) and on to County Road 38, Shackleville Road. I took Shackleville Road all the way out to where it runs into Monroe County & becomes known as Old Federal Road. Out there, I happened upon Salem Cemetery, an overgrown almost lost cemetery with Stinsons, Englishs, and Dreadens. I needed snake boots & repellent for this cemetery, but I had neither. Fortunately, only the turkey reared its ugly head.

My final stop was Shackleville Cemetery where my great-great grandmother Sallie Saucer Seale (1857-1900) & at least 5 of her 7 children are buried.

I also stopped at Mr. Allen Blackburn's house, who took care of the Shackleville Cemetery for several decades, and spent a top-quality hour with him learning about the history of the cemetery's residents!

Upon returning home, I spent time at the archives at the court house doing a little digging into my family's past.

I count day 1 a complete day-cation success!

Perceptions, Part 1

For those of you who asked about my column in the Camellia Magazine, but who live too far away to receive it, here is my first entry...

Perceptions

By Mollie Smith Waters        

            “Something like what Rick Bragg does for Southern Living,” said Andy Brown, managing editor of Camellia Magazine, when he and I discussed what type of material he was looking for me to do for my new column “Perceptions.” I have to tell you that Andy’s words made me smile because ever since I read my first Rick Bragg book, I have wanted to write like him. Yet, that’s a lot easier said than done.

            Now some of you may be wondering just who in the world is Rick Bragg, and why would I want to write like him? Mr. Bragg grew up in the little community of Possum Trot near Jacksonville, Alabama. A journalist who covered several controversial trials during the 1990s, he is better known to most Alabamians as the author of such non-fiction works as All Over But the Shoutin’ and Ava’s Man. He has won a Pulitzer Prize, several other writing awards, and even a fellowship to Harvard University. Currently, he teaches writing courses at the University of Alabama.

If you aren’t familiar with Rick Bragg, don’t beat yourself up over it. I had never heard of him until 2009 when I volunteered at the Alabama Book Festival in Montgomery. That year, he was doing a reading from his novel The Prince of Frogtown.

For my volunteer job, I got the plum assignment of working in the author’s reception room, a place where the authors relaxed and had refreshments before their speaking engagements. I was excited to get this job because it meant I would have time to talk with the authors one-on-one.

At one point, I found myself alone with Mr. Bragg, who was the top-billed speaker for the festival. What struck me most about him during our ten-minute conversation was just how amiable and down-to-earth he was. We discussed some of his works, none of which I had read at that point, and I asked him what it was he liked best about being a writer. He said he loved being able to tell a story and to have it resonate with a reader. When I went home after the festival, I borrowed all of his books from the library, and I devoured each one.

For sure, Rick Bragg’s works will resonate with you if you have ever experienced any trials or tribulations, or if you have ever overcome adversity. The stories he recounts from his impoverished childhood are beautifully crafted, and when you get through reading something by him, you just feel like you know him.

Of all the living Alabama writers, Rick Bragg is the one whose writing-style I most admire. His language is very simple and direct; he isn’t showy. Yet, for all of his simplicity, he is able to weave a tale that draws you in and refuses to let you go until it ends. So of course, you can understand why I want to write like Rick Bragg.

For all of my admiration and desire to write something like Rick Bragg, I have come to the realization that I will never be able to do it. Why not? Well, because I’m not him. He has a storyteller’s voice and heart, and while I hope I do as well, my stories will just never sound like his, but that’s okay. Each of us has a tale to tell and a distinctive way of telling it, and I hope over the next installments of “Perceptions” in the Camellia Magazine, my voice and heart will be something you won’t mind reading. Who knows? Maybe I’ll even say something that resonates with some of you.

No, I’ll never write like Rick Bragg, but a girl can always dream! So, welcome to “Perceptions,” and please know that I am glad to have you along for the ride, wherever it may take us.