Newspaper Page Text
pelled myself on until I crossed from Simpson
County into Warren County. Bowling Green
was only 10 miles, and new adventures
awaited me. My life took a whole different
direction after that.
Seeing a sign motioning me to the town
of Woodburn, I turned on Kentucky 242 and
went into town. Driving co'ncentricaliy, I
located the post office (as if it were hiding
from me)and took in a small pile of mail to be
sent off. “Nobody’ll ever find this town," I
reasoned correctly. Mr. Pace, the postmas
ter, was kind enough. “I’ll be glad to cancel
these for you, but Woodburn is on most
maps," he offered once he understood why
I had chosen him to send off my mail. “I can
send you to a place your friends will never
find. It isn’t far, either. I think it’s a two-hour
office, but you can probably leave your mail
and it’ll dispatch tomorrow from there. The
guy is nice, he’ll do it for you." I assented
and asked directions.
I followed Mr.
Pace’s directions to
the T (and beyond,
thank you). Suddenly
Walker’s Chapel Methodist Church loomed
up on the left atop the hill, and I obeyed the
“Congested Area: 35 mph" sign. On the
right, there it was. U. S. Post Office, Drake,
Kentucky 42128. conveniently ensconced
inside Freeman Kitchens Gro. I dismounted
my iron steed and ventured in.
Directly ahead of me, back beyond the
heater, set a blue bench. A small man sat
there impassively, as if he had been waiting
all day for the likes of me to pounce. "You
might as well come on in," he drawled
politely, deadpan. "Everything else has
gone wrong today." A cheery voice from
behind the counter counteracted him. "You
might hadn’t ought say that to him, K. D. He
might not come back again." I blinked,
unsure of whether these two were the writ-
years, but he will live
forever in his works-
Freeman Kitchens
and K. D. Copas are
two American origi
nals, there’s no doubt
about that. I could write novels sitting in that
store, watching the passing parade of
wonderful characters come and go. Good
people, trustworthy, still capable of being
given credit and paying once a month or
when the ’backer comes in. But Freeman is
a virtual encyclopedia of early Country
Music: he was once the president of The
Carter Family Fan Club, and corresponded
with folks worldwide. Since the death of
Mother Maybelle, though, he has suspended
the club's activities. She was the last survi
vor of the three: A. P., Sara, and Maybelle.
June Carter Cash is Maybelle's daughter;
Carlene Carter is June’s daughter: interest
ing connections both, but not sufficient to
keep a fan club going for the three originals.
Well, if it were mine to do, I’d start a fan
I suggest you latch onto one. I think these
folks might make it. Stay tuned for further
developments. A fan club, maybe?
And like that I sign rny little personal
radio station off for another week. There is
a WORT; it is a listener-supported station
(more like Atlanta’s WRFG than Athens’
WUOG) in Madison, Wisconsin, but I’ve
never heard it. In 1982, when I went up
thataway, I was in a car with only an AM
radio. There’s always next year; after the
Spring Thaw, I can pass through Kentucky
on the way to Leinenkugel’s and Point
Special Beer country...thirst strikes; I can
hardly wait. Warren County, Kentucky is
dry except for the city of Bowling Green,
alas. I can wait. It’s only a little over 500
miles from Freeman Kitchens’ ginkgo tree
to Beloit, the closest depot for Point. Think
I’ll start packing right now. Yawn.
Keep reading and thinking. See you
next week. Reyawn. (30.)
CUSTOM
MADE
PITA
BREAD
SANDWICHES
SINCE
GVRO
CORAP
, * ■£
\ Cafe § 1974 \
C a MrM»/i/-'ure> 5
ACROSS FROM THE UGA ARCH
1
543-9071
M
E. Broad S'
r.
Sandwiches,
Platters, Salads,
Beer 8c Wine, etc.
On the downtown busline
Take Out Available
DAISY 3-SONG 7”
AVAILABLE NOW
AT
WUXTRY &
ROCKETHEAD