Woody & Other Subjects
by Dave Estep
Hale Woodrow Gay...
...I met Woody in the fourth grade in Kanawha City, about the same time I met
Homer Mullins, Tom Peden, Larry Blankenship, and Wayne Holt. We use to
shoot basketball across from his house near the tracks. I always envied
Wayne's math abilities. Homer's Dad had a really cool white
tractor-trailer. Written on the doors in red letters was " Don't
Slamit Damnit !" Larry Blankenship and I always watched
"Seahunt" together at his house after school.
I thought our 21 year old teacher was the most beautiful teacher
in the world. I stayed after school almost everyday volunteering for
anything and everything, just to be with her ! ha ! I can't remember
her name to save my life.
Woody and I had a similar sense of humor... only his seemed to
be more at my expense than his, anyway... when one day he invited me over his
house to meet his spider monkey. [ I don't remember the
monkey's name ] "......." was a skinny, mischievous, spider monkey,
that would constantly get into trouble when let out of his cage...thinking of
it, Woody was the same way...they even looked alike, if you don't believe me,
look at page 114 of the '65 yearbook !
The monkey's hair was cut the same way ! Ha ! The spider monkey
lived in a wooden box suspended in a five by five- foot wire cage on the front
porch of Woody's house. The wooden box was heated by a light bulb when the
weather cooled. Woody would deliver newspapers throughout northern side of
McCorkle Avenue to the river, and from 40th to the old Owens-Illinois
plant. Woody would ride his bike along his paper route with the monkey
stuffed in the front zipper pocket of his navy-blue nylon parka. It would
stick its little round head with its little round ears out of the pocket and
stare at me with its little round eyes. I always thought that they
were related somehow.
Woody's Dad, Jute owned the Hardware store on the northeast
corner of 55th street and McCorkle, directly across from the Libby-Owens Plant
Park, where many of the neighborhood kids played football. We played
football in the summer, and winter. I remember playing football in the
snow a few times. Catching that ball in the winter was like
catching a concrete block. Winter gloves didn't work, so I would wrap
bandage wrap around my hands leaving my fingertips exposed so I could grip the
ball. Needless to say my fingers were frozen after a short while.
Woody and I went to school through elementary, junior high at
Horace Mann and in the 10th grade at Charleston High School. In his junior
year, Woody entered a Military School in Virginia. The last time I talked
to Woody was around '91 or '92. He lived in Louisville, Kentucky at the
time.
Every time I think of Woody, I see him with his monkey, and conversely, whenever
I see a spider monkey, I think of Woody...
If anyone remembers Horace Mann, he and I were in Ms. Pierce's class
together. I used to exaggerate my southern accent and call Ms. Pierce,
Miss Piss, and she answered every time !
Speaking of Horace Mann, did Bob Ferguson look 30 years old in
the ninth grade, or was
it just me !?!
Sidebar: One day, near the tennis courts of Horace Mann, while everyone
watched Patty Baisden play tennis, a friend and I were kicking a soccer ball
around, when it rolled toward the cafeteria doors. I chased after it and
wheeling on my feet kicked the ball with professional flare. It
accelerated to light speed toward the edge of
the building just as Cathy Cotton walked around the corner. The ball hit
her squarely in the face and knocked her on her butt. She looked up
at me with her blonde hair tossed, bent glasses and red face. I felt so
terrible, I think it was the single reason why I could never talk to her without
feelings of regret.
Oh no, I feel another sidebar coming on…Damn O.J. Simpson trial...
Mr. DeMarco...well lets see. During my junior year, I sat in back of Mr.
DeMarco's Human Physiology class while volunteering for Audiovisual support
instead of sitting in study hall. Mr. DeMarco received a plaster
version of a human torso that was in bad repair. He had a newly acquired
male version in plastic for his classroom. Standing the small room behind
the lab table, stood another torso in wrapped in clear plastic. He
requested that I recondition it by painting and re-labeling all of the
organs. "It's exactly the same as the other one," he said, as I
wheeled the new torso into the back room to use for reference. As I
removed the plastic to survey the extent of damage, I was staring at a pair of
perfect plaster breasts.
I hesitated for a few moments, taking in the voluptuousness,
…I mean the damage, and thought I would use a play on his words,,,,,it was
supposed to be exactly the same as the other one…
While Mr. DeMarco was lecturing, I grasped the chest plate and
held it in front of me, while I slowly opened the door that faced the classroom
and behind Mr. DeMarco. There I was standing with the breast plate in
front of me, stating as a matter of fact….'Mr. DeMarco, this one isn't the
same as the other one…", everyone in the class roared aloud. Mr.
DeMarco stood quietly for a moment and then suggested that I take his class.
Mr. Culpepper…what can I say…I was always messin' with him…I would make up
the most comprehensive and long winded question and his only answer was, "I
have no idea…" Tony Fazio and I enjoyed the fact that all of
the girls sat on the opposite side of the room facing the guys …if Brad
Hammer is out there, tell him I said hello…
For one year, while I stayed with my Grandmother, I attended Woodrow
Wilson. I competed for the FIRST chair in Biology class with Linda Crouse.
The person with the highest scores would earn the FIRST chair. She and I
were either in the FIRST or second chair throughout the whole year. Things
that guys do just to impress a girl….obviously, she wasn't impressed...ha !
The major reason that I have a lot of internal conflicts is that my mother
graduated from Stonewall Jackson, while my father graduated from Charleston
High…
There is one person, above all others, that dominates my memories of CHS...Jane.
Those memories I won't share...like precious stones, I protect them. Every
once in awhile, I open that ornate box and stare at them. They haven't
lost their light or color.
Dave
p. s. Have they removed RIO BRAVO off the front of that theater in
Kanawha City yet?
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