YES, I AM STILL HERE peeking out my window on Main Street, and today I call your attention to the obituary of Troy McCullough on Page 2 of this newspaper.
I have a story to tell about him, but you’ll have to wait until I have set the scene.
He and his twin brother, Coy, were my Scrapper heroes. They played when the whole state was knew about and trembled at the mention of the Scrappers.
The McCullough twins were real toughnosed guys.
They weren’t big, or fast. But once you played against them you never forgot them.
Fast forward a few years.
I had a friend who was a state senator from Malvern. He told me that when he was a high school senior his team had a 10-1 record. The Leopards, he said, stomped everyone in their conference and even the non-conference teams which were all from larger classifications. My friend was a starting lineman on that Malvern squad.
We only played one team that was from a smaller classification and they beat the tar out of us, he said.
He was referring to the Scrappers.
“I still have nightmares about the McCullough twins and Hoyt Pedron running straight at me. Those were the toughest players we saw all year. I probably still have bruises.” This was 30+ years after.
Troy and Coy were running backs and Hoyt was a blocking back.
Just shows you that people from all corners of the state know Nashville in part because of the Scrappers. Even from many moons ago.
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MORE FOOTBALL. I had an idea how to make the game even more interesting and entertaining.
We should set up an unbiased committee, and after each touchdown they would assign extra points for the creative end zone dances which today’s players SEEM COMPELLED to perform after scoring. The player ought to go thank his blockers instead.
I will forward this great idea to the Arkansas Activities Association. I hope they appreciate it more than the City of Nashville does for my Downtown J-Turn Enforcement Officer offer.
Or how the hospital board ignores my plea for a Senior Citizens Ear and Nose Hair Clinic.
Or how the Band Boosters ignore the legitimacy of my unofficial claim to be Third Best Trombone Player in the History of the Scrapper Band.
Fame eludes me. Just like the Arkansas State Police ignore my request for a concealed automatic firearm permit.
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ANOTHER SAD NOTE. Accompanied by, I hope, a smile.
Also in this issue of the newspaper is the obituary of my 1961 NHS classmate, Jack Holt Lovelis.
Jack never bragged about being the best cornet player in the history of the Scrapper band because he wasn’t. But he was pretty good and we oogled the majorettes together.
Jack was also the subject of maybe the best feature story I ever wrote. I’m sorry that the only clipping I have saved does not include the date of the story.
It was the crash of an airplane in Lake Nichols, the city reservoir.
The crash was witnessed and reported by a resident of the nursing home located across the street from the lake. Who told the nurse. Who called the police radio dispatcher. Who alerted all area police, firemen, the hospital emergency room, the coroner and about half of the county because they were listening to their police radio band scanners.
“Airplane crash at the city lake,” dispatcher shouted.
The problem was that the aircraft was a radio controlled pontoon airplane which Jack Holt Lovelis had built and flew often. He was practicing delicate landings on the water when his attention was diverted and his pride-and-joy somersaulted on the surface of the lake.
My story in the old ‘Nashville News’ was about the hundred or so persons racing at breakneck speed to the awful airplane crash site.
And it was also about that airplane which was now bobbing upside-down on the gentle waves of the lake.
I quoted Jack as saying he got in a boat and paddled out to retrieve his precious airplane. He turned around when he heard a loud noise.
“There was a cloud of dust and all the flashing lights in the world. I saw the firetruck come over the dike, and its two front wheels were off the ground.”
The mental picture of that firetruck in his quote has stayed with me lo these many years. I’m sad that Jack is gone, but I smile at our shared experiences of this life.
I hope that Jack gets to fly again in Heaven. Peace to his family, friends and classmates.
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MORE THINGS I LEARNED from opening When a kid says “Daddy, I want Mommy” that’s the kid version of “I’d like to speak to your supervisor.”
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WORD GAMES. I love oxymorons. I told the pool repair guy: I want an Exact Estimate.
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HE SAID: “Yesterday is not ours to recover, but tomorrow is ours to win or lose.” Lyndon B. Johnson, 36th President of the United States
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SHE SAID: “You are the sum total of everything you’ve ever seen, heard, eaten, smelled, been told, forgot — it’s all there. Everything influences each of us, and because of that I try to make sure that my experiences are positive.” Maya Angelou, Arkansas-born poet
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SWEET DREAMS, Baby
