By Neal Wooten
Growing up on Sand Mountain, there were things I learned to do that I thought I would be doing for the rest of my life.
Siphoning gas: Anytime we needed gas for the lawnmower, tiller, or tractor, we siphoned gas from one of our cars. Everyone back then kept a short piece of garden hose, about six feet long, for this purpose. It was a gamble with fate each time. One inhale too many, and you got a mouthful of gasoline, which is a taste you won’t ever forget.
Turning the antenna: I did not foresee cable. I assumed that every time the wind blew would send me outside to turn the antenna after the signal was lost. Just grab that metal pole and twist while listening closely as someone from the inside yells, “More… more… wait… go back… stop!”
Fiddling earthworms: Many summer days found me as a kid headed to the woods with a gallon jug and rusty old handsaw. I’d find a small hickory and cut it down, then saw across the stump to create the required vibrations to bring those monsters up. Sometimes I would sell them, and other times it was just for fishing.
Cutting our own Christmas tree: This was one of my favorite holiday events. Dad and I would search the woods behind our house to find the perfect tree, or at least the tree with the smallest naked spots. I haven’t had a real tree now in decades. Heck, I even buy them with the lights already installed.
Making rabbit traps: By the time I was ten, I had a dozen rabbit boxes set out all over the woods and down by the creek. Every morning before I caught the school bus, I’d make my rounds and check each one. Usually, half had a rabbit, occasional raccoon or possum, and even once a skunk. I always let them go, but it was nice to know I could do it.
Splitting firewood: When I was a teenager, I could split firewood with the best of them, and using only a maul. I’d never heard of a hydraulic firewood splitter. I could split an entire pile, enough to last all winter, in a matter of hours.
I guess I’ve gotten too civilized in my older years, or maybe the world has changed more than I ever thought it would. I’ll probably never again fiddle worms, make a slingshot, make a rabbit trap, pick wild berries, frog gig, run a trot line, or a lot of other things that seemed so normal when I was a kid, but I’m glad I know how.
Hence, if an apocalypse ever destroys society, I’ll be ready.
