In today’s hectic and consuming world there exists not only a want, but a need to temporarily escape the daily stresses of our lives, and one portal from the present is stories from our past. Looking back and reliving childhood moments renews our strength and our faith enabling us to cope with the difficulties that we face. “An Old Man Looking Back” shares with others many memorable lifetime stories from one man in the hopes that readers will look back and relive stories from their own past, and share their memorable moments with others.

Jennifer B. Robinette grew up in the small town of Brevard in western North Carolina, and moved to central North Carolina to attend graduate school at the age of 22. She met her future husband within the halls of NC State University and in the summer of 2001, after being married for two years, they moved to the quaint town of Prospect Hill, NC. One of their neighbors, James Clair Wilkinson, is the source of the memorable stories in their book, “An Old Man Looking Back”.

Plowin’ Popcorn & Choppin’ Wood

We all have priceless stories from our childhood tucked away in our minds that we frequently call upon for laughter, warmth, and comfort.  As we escape to a time when there were no worries, few responsibilities, and for the most part one carefree moment after another, the stresses of the here and now temporarily melt away.  In this chapter, James Clair relives and shares with us some of those very moments.

Anyone who has ever spent a summer in the South knows of hot, sweltering days coupled with calm, humid nights.  Working the fields by day, we not only witnessed the beauty and brilliance of the sun, but also the blistering heat it releases upon the Earth.  Growing up, I heard my older brother, William, tell some pretty amusing stories that would give one an idea of just how hot it often was during the summer.  Once he came to me and said, “James Clair, Papa’s had me plowin’ popcorn.”  After I responded with a puzzled look, he said “It was so hot today that the corn got to popping.  The mule thought it was snowing and froze to death.”  Another time as we were laying in bed at night, he asked me, “Can you hear that thumping on the floor?”  I listened carefully to the silent air, and he continued, “I’m so hot that my sweat is running off of the bed onto the floor.”  The summer days and nights may have been uncomfortably hot at times, but my brother kept me smiling.

Papa always kept his handkerchiefs in a trunk at the foot of his bed and a bucket of water sitting on top of the trunk.  One night when I had a bad cold and needed a handkerchief, I slumbered downstairs and into his room to get one.  After moving Papa’s bucket of water onto the floor, I opened the trunk, and pulled me out a handkerchief.  I then proceeded to gently shut the trunk, lay the handkerchief on top of the trunk, pick up the bucket of water and wander back upstairs.  As I entered our bedroom, my brother asked in amazement, “James Clair, what are you doing with that bucket of water?”   

I know we have all at one time or another been left to find an empty toilet paper roll when we are in need.  When this happens to me, I think of the time we didn’t have plumbing.  We had what some people call a back house, but we called it a Johnny house.  Ours had two seats, so there wasn’t much privacy.  But we didn’t have to worry about running out of toilet paper, because we didn’t have any to begin with.  We used either the Sears Roebuck catalog or corncobs.  The Sears Roebuck catalog was much more comfortable.