By Neal Wooten
Growing up on Sand Mountain, there were a lot of things I learned to do, things that I thought I would be doing for the rest of my life. But times have changed so dramatically over the last five decades, I’m sure I’ll never do most of these things again.
Siphoning Gas – It seems we always needed gas back in those days for lawnmowers, cleaning parts, tractors, someone running out of gas, motorcycles, or to pour into the carburetor, etc. I was taught at a very early age how to run a cut-off garden hose down into the tank, suck on it to get the gas flowing, and run it into an old milk jug. Since it was not an exact science, however, I usually ended up with a mouth full of gasoline. And let me tell you, that’s a taste you will never forget.
Making Toys – Being on a limited budget, making our own toys was a necessary skill. I made spinning tops, kites, many flips from forked tree branches, and stilts to walk on, but my favorite from memory was making a tractor from an empty wooden spool of thread using matchsticks and a rubber band.
Using Ether to Inflate Tires – We always kept spray cans of ether in our cars for cold mornings when the car didn’t want to start. It was super flammable, and we’d spray it into the carburetor and turn the ignition. It would fire right up, usually with a bang, and the gas would keep the car running. Another use was to help inflate tubeless tires. Since we didn’t have the contraptions professional garages used to shoot a huge burst of air into the tire to seal it, we would spray ether into the tire and strike a match to it. BOOM! Tiresealed long enough to pump it up.
Making Homemade Biscuits – I used to love to do this. I’d fill a big bowl with sifted flour, pour in milk, and add shortening, and calmly rake my hand around in circles as flour slowly fell off the sides to make the mix thicker and thicker. Then I’d pinch off enough to make one biscuit, and roll it, and pat it onto the pan. Yummy. Today, I just pop open a can of Grands.
Ah, there are so many things I learned growing up on the mountain, things I thought I would pass along to the younger generation. But no one siphons gas anymore, and unless I can whittle a smartphone out of a stick, no one today will care. But just wait, you little whippersnappers, when the zombie apocalypse happens, you’ll wish you could make a thread spool tractor then.
