Pg. A2 • Mount Vernon Signal • Thursday, July 19, 2012

PointsEast

By Ike Adams

Publication Number 366-000Periodical Postage Paid in Mt. Vernon, Ky. 40456

606-256-2244

Published every Thursday since November, 1887. Of-fices in the Mt. Vernon Signal Building on Main Streetin Mt. Vernon, Ky. 40456. Postmaster, send addresschanges to P.O. Box 185, Mt. Vernon, Kentucky 40456.

James Anderkin, Jr., Publisher EmeritusPerlina M. Anderkin, Managing Editor

Sara Coguer, EditorPaige Anderkin Benge, Advertising Manager

SUBSCRIPTION RATESIn County - $20.00 Yr.

Out-of-County In State - $27.00 Yr.Out-of-State $35.00 Yr.

e-mail address - mvsignal@windstream.net

(Cont. to A4)

ramblings...by perlina m. anderkinTook #4 daughter with

me last Thursday night tosee the “Malt Shop Memo-ries” show at Renfro Valley.Thoroughly enjoyed it. Thesinging was delightful andbrought back memories ofmy 50s (late) teenage years.

Will Reynolds does amean Elvis impression, bothin looks, movement andsinging and, of course, localfolks know the outstandingquality of Shawn Burdette’svoice. The two are joined byClinton Spalding of Louis-ville and Eric Jackson ofLondon and the four inthemselves make the priceof admission more thanworthwhile.

But, also a plus are thefive female cast memberswho look the part of teen-agers in the 50s and can beltout the songs in a wayhighly reminiscent of theera.

The entire productionwas written and directed byAllen Pensol, Basic ArtsCoordinator for RockcastleCounty Schools.

As someone who livedthrough them, and enjoyedthem thoroughly, the 50swas the last time that life inthis country had an idyllicquality to it. We were so in-nocent. There was no 24hour news cycle to keep usin turmoil. The internethadn’t been invented. Wewere lucky to have a phonein the house let alone be ableto communicate 24/7 andwe were, by and large, anoptimistic society. And, nosmall plus, it was the last erawhen I could understand the

words to songs or wasn’tembarrassed if I did under-stand them.

Of course, we weren’taware, or chose not to be, ofthe deep racial divide or ofthe impending national out-rage over the Vietnam Warfor which our soldiers paiddearly with their lives andwith the scorn unfairlyheaped upon them by pro-testors.

We also couldn’t havefathomed the great socialchanges that would takeplace in our country in en-suing decades -- but that’s atopic for another columnwhen I am feeling morefearless.

Back to the originaltopic, I enjoyed the showtremendously. Sara, theaforementioned daughter#4, who fulfilled her filialobligation by accompanyingme, said she also enjoyed itbut I think I detected some“tongue in cheek” there.

If there’s any drawbackto the show, the sound sys-tem was loud-d-d-d. WhenI was fussing about it toSara, her rejoinder was thatthe producers might havethought most of the audi-ence was deaf -- referring,of course, to the average agein attendance which wasprobably around 70.

But, if you enjoy beingtransported back in time toan era related to your child-hood, or would just enjoylistening to some excellentmusic and singing, give theshow a try. It airs eachThursday in the Big Barn atRenfro Valley at 7 p.m.

The Rootsof Rockcastle

by: Tonya J. Cook

(Cont. to A4)

I didn’t get what wouldhave been my first crop ofbeans planted until the lastweek of May. Loretta likesRoma IIs and tenderettes,both of which are bush va-rieties that bear early and inprofusion.

The plan was to growenough to eat on and alsohave enough for a couple ofseven-quart canings andthen replant them in late Julyso we could repeat the pro-cess in September. But it hasnot worked out that way.

Peter Cottontail,Thumper and company dis-covered that bean sprouts inmy garden were so tasty andof such gourmet quality thatthey have traveled frommiles around to feast on mybean leafs and they havekept them chewed down tothe ground as fast as theyleaf out.

Loretta paid big bucksfor a box of stuff called Crit-ter Ridder that was supposedto make any sort of rodentstay away from flowers andvegetables. As far as I cantell, it has worked on coonsand ground hogs but has hadno effect whatever on rab-bits.

Then I found some stuffcalled Liquid Fence that wastouted as a guaranteed deerand rabbit repellant. A gal-lon of concentrate cost me$32.95 plus tax andwa sup-posed to make eight gallonsof spray. Supposedly youput this stuff around the pe-rimeter of your garden andrabbits won’t even cross theline.

I figured that if eightounces to the was goodenough, sixteen ouncesought to be way better, so Ishook it up real good, as di-rected, poured a quart of thestuff into a two gallon pres-

sure sprayer, filled it up withwater and liberally appliedin wide swath around thetwo hundred, fifty feet edgeof my garden.

Then I literally soakedmy bean rows with the stuffwhich, incidentally, smelledso bad it nearly made mevomit.

I had already taken to sit-ting on the edge of my porchbetween dusk and pitch darkand shooing anywhere fromtwo to six diners of the cot-tontail persuasion awayfrom my bean patch. I yelledand screamed and did mybest imitation of a beaglehound. I armed myself withbig dirt clods to heave atthem and they would scam-per away into nearbyhayfields and pastures andbide their time until I couldno longer see them. Andthen, of course they woulddine all night.

Anyway, about an hourafter applying the liquidfence, I sat on the porchwatching and sure enough,at twilight three rabbitscame hopping across mygarden, paying absolutelyno attention to the liquidfence. They went directly tothe beans where they com-menced looking for newleafs and, within seconds allthree of them had foundsomething to munch on.Within another few secondsthey all stopped in mid-nibble and began staring atone another and noddingtheir heads up and down.

I don’t claim any abilityto speak rabbitish but I’msure the conversation wentsomething like this.

“Wow! Is this new saladdressing not wonderful,”asked Peter Cottontail?

I had recently spokenwith a resident ofLivingston, Katha Carpen-ter, who was willing to sharea bit of local history andsome interesting informa-tion about her father,Delaney Morris. She al-ready had a short story writ-ten, so the following is inKatha's own words.

A CHANGE IN JOBSIt was mid-September,

1944. My Dad, DelaneyMorris, had been workingfor the KY Stone Co. forseveral years. He had com-plained over the years abouthow difficult it was toplease his foreman. I guessthe last straw just fell thatday, because he quit.

As he started to walkdown the railroad tracksfrom Mullins Station quarryto Livingston, KY, he beganto think. Winter was com-ing soon and he didn't havea job.

Delaney was married toEdna Raines. They had oneson, Harold, and threedaughters, Rowena, Katha,and Telvis.

I guess my dad waslucky that day, but Momwould have said the Lordwas looking out for him,because he saw a crew ofmen working on the Rail-road Bridge at Livingston.

He walked on down andbegan to talk to the men andasked the foreman for a job.His name, as we knew it,was “Big Boy” Powell. Hehired my Dad that day.

The Railroad Companyhad different departments.

The one Dad was workingon was the Bridge Depart-ment.

The crew did not stay inLivingston long, though.They moved on to Corbin,and eventually on to Cincin-nati.

Morris Robinson went towork for the L. & N. Rail-road in 1945. He worked onthe Bridge gang Depart-ment.

Morris was married toOpal Raines. They, too, hadfour children: one daughter,Barbara, and three boys,Wayne, Joe, and Wilmer.

When they moved away,my Dad and uncle Morris,would ride trains to andfrom work. During theweek, while still on the job,they would stay in the campcars. The men paid equallyto hire a cook to stay in thecamp car and to buy grocer-ies.

The Railroad Companyissued a pass. This entitledthem to bring their family toride the trains for free. Themost exciting thing in myearly childhood was goingto Livingston Depot andwaiting for the trains to ar-rive, then riding on it toLouisville, KY, to visit myDad's brother, Harry Morris,and his family.

It was December, 1950,when “Big Boy” and hiscrew came back toLivingston. They were sup-posed to take down old CoalBins. They were working onthe project one day when a

“Theme from A SummerPlace”

A few days ago I wasdriving my automobile andlistening to Sirius XM Ra-dio when Percy Faith’s“Theme from A SummerPlace” melodically began toseep through the stereo. Thatsong has been one of my fa-vorite instrumental recordsfor more than 50 years. I al-most have to stop my car inorder to listen to each note.No other instrumental songhas that effect on me.

Each time I hear thatmelody, I am taken back to1959 when Sandra Dee andTroy Donahue appeared onthe silver screen in themovie A Summer Place. Itwas a romantic drama abouttwo adults, Ken (RichardEgan) and Sylvia (DorothyMcGuire). The couple hadbeen teenage lovers, butthey had gone on to marryothers. Sylvia’s son, Johnny(Donahue), and Ken’sdaughter, Molly (Dee), meeton the same island as theirparents had twenty yearsago.

Johnny and Molly fall inlove – and then the troublebegins. Molly becomespregnant, and they have adifficult time convincingtheir parents that their pas-sion for one another is truelove and that they want tospend their lives together. Iam sure you know the age-old story. I first saw themovie at the Valley Drive InTheater on a double datewith some of my friends.

Percy Faith recorded themost popular version of thetune. To the shock of mostrecording studios, the songspent a record nine consecu-tive weeks at number-one onBillboard’s Hot 100 singleschart in 1960. It remains thelongest running number-oneinstrumental in the historyof the charts. In addition,Faith won a Grammy Awardfor Record of the Year in1961 for his recording. Thiswas the first movie themeand the first instrumental towin a Record of the YearGrammy.

For a long time, I wasunaware of the lyrics of thisextremely popular song. Butin 1962, Andy Williams in-cluded a rendition of thetune in his Gold certified al-bum Moon River. It was atthat time that I first heard thewords to the instrumental

classic. They are:There’s a summer placeWhere it may rain or stormYet I’m safe and warmFor within that summer

placeYour arms reach out to meAnd my heart is free from all

care…For it knows…There are no gloomy skiesWhen seen through the eyesOf those who are blessed

with loveAnd the sweet secret ofA summer placeIs that it’s anywhereWhen two people shareAll their hopesAll their dreamsAll their love

In addition to Percy Faithand Andy Williams, severalother artists have recordedthe tune over the years, in-cluding Julie London, BillyVaughn, The Lettermen,Dusty Springfield, TheChordettes, JoanieSommers, Bobby Vinton,Cliff Richards, and Santo &Johnny. In my mind, no onecould record that specialsong like Percy Faith. In2008, Faith’s original ver-sion was ranked at number18 on Billboard’s Top 100songs of all time.

I recall several timeswhen my friends and Idanced to that hauntingmelody. It was just the rightkind of song to hold yourbaby close and let the mu-sic pour over you. I dancedwith Nancye Helton O’Nealat a sock hop at her houseone night while we listenedto the instrumental. I bet shedoesn’t even remember

And to this day, the songstops me in my tracks and Iam frozen in a time longago.

(You can reach me atmtnman@mis.net or you

can drop me a line at P.O.Box 927 – Stanton, KY

40380. I appreciate yourcomments andsuggestions.)