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- [S24] The Newport Plain Talk, (http://www.newportplaintalk.com), 19 Nov 2006.
Anywhere you go in our hometown, as we get closer to the holidays, people are clumping together more like Friday afternoon traffic along Broadway or gangs of starlings.
Perhaps it was at the Lowe's parking lot that I bumped into Glenn Bible. While I hadn't seen him for quite some time, he has an unforgettable face and smile. He reminded me that the last time we met was when I shot photos when lightning hit a tree at the cemetery behind the Newport Health & Rehabilitation Center (formerly Mariner). Glenn's neighbor, Arvel McNabb, and he were cleaning up the debris. Glenn's latest project has been a neighborhood pavilion for family gatherings off Green Valley Rd. As soon as I drove out to the area, I recalled visiting these woods years ago. The open-air roofed pavilion is at the rear of a small meadow. On the hillside above you can see Dorothy McNabb's new stone and log-sided house illuminated by the late afternoon sun. Glenn is no stranger to the Huff Hollow area as he bought the land more than 30 years ago and has lived there with his wife, Serita. He arrived in Cocke County from Greene Co. in the early 1950s at the request of the Sluder family, owners of Mohawk Milling. Glenn had worked as a teenager doing deliveries at Mohawk in Greene and moved to Newport where he ultimately became milling production manager of the plant along the Pigeon River whose water turned the giant wheel and grinder-all of that has disappeared. It was a time when most farmers raised wheat, corn, and other grains for sale and family use. "I've seen them backed up across the bridge," he said referring to the line of trucks at the mill in line stretching beyond the McSween Bridge. It was hard work but Glenn is accustomed to that-and having turned 78 Sept. 4, he hasn't slowed down yet. He left the mill in the 1960s got married and bought trucks to haul furniture for the Bullards, who operated manufacturing plants. He also hauled for Rhyne Lumber, and Stokely Van Camp. By 1984, he quit driving professional for the cannery. He continued driving trucks for Junior Hommel-"It's terrible getting up and not going to work." Perhaps that's why he took on the pavilion project with the help of his son-in-law, Robert Ball, a contractor, and friends such as Arvel.
I asked Glenn about the hilly, wooded land on which he lives-he sold off many acres of the original plot. At one time Lester Hurst owned the land but there had been many other owners such as the Hedrick brothers of Newport. It seems he bought the land for about $6,000, which at the time was about $100 per acre. Some friends scoffed at the notion of paying so much for the rough, steep farm. Yet, he has made his money back many times over. I also found it interesting that he raced cars at the old fairgrounds dirt track in the early 1960s. These tracks, like Atomic Speedway, are going the way of outdoor theaters-disappearing from the landscape.
If you don't know Glenn, then surely you know his wife who has worked with the public so long that there are few people she hasn't met. Serita's parents were former constable Ike Coggins, who also was a school bus driver, and Addie (Black) Coggins of the Old Fifteenth. In later years the family moved to Bee Carter Road. Ike was a cousin to my old friend the late squire, Bill Coggins. Serita comes from a family of 11 children of which eight survive. You may know her siblings: Major, Fate, Jeter (of Ohio), and J. Harold, Zima Gana (of Georgia), Shirley Goodenough (of S.C.), and Geraldine Hartsell. Deceased are Zita Rollins, Juanita Ball, and Don Coggins. I know Juanita as the mother of my friends, Ronnie and Wayne Ball. The family farmed on 345 acres at Del Rio. Serita was always a hard worker and started helping others by assisting Love Shults and Dr. Glen Shults in the care of their three sons. I mentioned this to attorney Bill Shults last week prior to his being sworn in as state claims commissioner on Wed. in the old state Supreme Court chambers in Nashville. He remembered with fondness Serita's care. Bill also gave me a little bad news that his younger brother, Cliff, of California, suffers with cancer.
Serita had joined Heywood-Wakefield about 1960 and was put out of work when she married Glenn in 1964. But she also helped her sister, Geraldine, as a beauty consultant for Merle Norman products. For almost 20 years she got to know thousands of folks while working at Valentine-Shults Clinic for six years and then the Family Practice Center as records clerk. Serita always enjoyed working with people and still does as a foster grandparent in the program at Newport Grammar School. She spends four hours a day at the school with kindergarten age children to provide that friendly, supportive grandma image. "It's the most rewarding job I've ever had," she said of this work for the past three years. Glenn and Serita are still together and enjoy their life on the land they love looking forward to family get-togethers around Thanksgiving at the pavilion. I'm sure their daughter, Keela Ball and children Adam Bible and Ethan Ball, will be there too.
Last week, I made an error when talking about Thai Kitchen owners Manit and Marina Subhakul. I said she was a former Miss Thailand but she was actually Miss South Region Thailand. There is more news to come about their home burglary. In plain talk, unless you're a bear hunter, you don't have to fear the woods around these mountains because you will find the nicest people nestle in them.
- [S24] The Newport Plain Talk, (http://www.newportplaintalk.com), 29 Aug 2009.
Did you get a chuckle out of the unusual photo in the Thursday, Aug. 27, edition of the Plain Talk? Betty McMillan called my attention to it, because, quite frankly, I hadn't done any in-depth reading until Friday. There on page 8A is a large photo of a utility pole with the photo caption: "Black Snake's Nest." Betty asked me how the snake could climb the pole to get into the nest. And, if it had eggs in the nest, how did these not roll out? I was sure it was not a snake nest but looked like a hornet's nest/hive. I have a giant one on the side of my house and the hornets don't bother me. Glen Bible submitted the photo so I called him to find out the "rest of the story." Because, like you, I wanted to find out how the photo with the wrong information got published. It all got started with our adv. rep. Vickie Mason. She and I were chuckling over the incident and her involvement was as a contact when Glen came into the office. His daughter, Keela Ball, knows Vickie and so Glen sought Vickie out to give her the snake story, and hornet happenings. Keela is married to Roger, of the Marshall Hollow Balls. On Glen's camera are photos of the hornet's nest and black snake, which you see here.
I called Glen on Friday morning and here is what happened. Glen lives off Green Valley Road not far behind Newport Tire Center. The utility pole shown in the photo is near a family pavilion on the Bible farm. Glen has a pet black snake whose family has lived on the farm for at least 30 years, he said. There used to be an old wheat drill implement in the field and snakes used it as a home. Glenn took a photo of an eight-foot snake and wanted to get it in the Plain Talk. He also noted that while he was walking about days ago he looked up and saw the huge hornets nest on the bottom of the transformer. I asked if the nest was still there, but it has been partially dismantled by Roger Ball, because many family members will be using the site for a Ball family gathering, Sept. 5, and he feared an attack by hornets. Glen and I share the experience that a hornet's hive does not mean imminent danger. Years ago he had one under the eve of his house above an outdoor water spigot. Glen never got stung but a niece walked by and "they nailed her in the back." Glen has seen a lot of interesting things but few to top the giant hive hanging on the bottom of a power transformer. He turns 81 on Sept. 4. He will be celebrating with Bible and Lanes at family gatherings in Sept. When he reminded me of the Lane family connection, I immediately recalled a phone call from Betty Jo (Lewis) Martin, who is a sister to Bill Lewis, alderman. Betty Jo said that cousins in South Carolina were Lanes, one being Maggie Lane, who married Bob Lewis. I am putting her in touch with both Glenn and Ronnie Lane for more information. Glen's mother was Eliza Jane Lane, whose mother was Ada Martin.
Back to the photo goof. When Glen brought his camera in to share a copy, we took the image of the hornet's nest but didn't get the black snake in the cooler box photo. So what went back to the news dept. wasn't a snake photo but it was Vickie's notes about the snake and the photo of the hornets' nest. Some of the news dept. folks apparently had never seen a black snake's nest so they assumed this is what it looked like, very much like a hornet's nest. Some of our city-folk news people may have never seen a hornet's nest or a black snake. Glenn did give me this additional information. At the base of the pole was a yellow jackets nest in the ground. They have been dispatched. Alongside the pole is a seven-foot wide mowed path. Keela was mowing this a couple weeks ago and saw a black snake stretched across the path. Not being a snake's friend, she yelled and ran. However, the snake photo is of one that was lounging on the concrete pavilion floor about a year ago. Maybe it is the same snake Keela scared into the brush. Now, I know you won't believe this, and I had to see it, but Glen walked up to his parked Ford van next to the pavilion and pointed to the running board. The snake not only lounges on the chrome running board but poops on it too. I saw the proof. It's in the poop. So, do you understand how it all got twisted about? That's the long snake story.
Perhaps not as exciting as this, was the glimpse I got of the newly-painted military tank that faces Highway 321 at the National Guard Armory site. The fresh green paint glistened in the Friday morning rain and made me feel a slight tinge of fall. The soft rain did not slow down a jogger, a woman mowing grass at Wendy's, a city street sweeper, or the line of traffic heading to work that morning.
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