This is a follow up to yesterdays story. I just love history and the telling of it. As is often the case it isn't always want we thought it to be. After writing and posting that story about my fathers' " scene in a bottle " and how it came to be I was talking with my sister. Now, she is just two years older than I but our memories of the early days are different. Okay, I admit it, she remembers more than I do. So I was telling her about my story and she began correcting me. The first correction was about the man I called Mr. Charlie. He wasn't Charlie Miller, his name was Charlie Mott. He didn't live on Floyd street , he lived on the Springs-Fireplace highway. It was just down the road a short distance from Great Grandfathers house on the corner of Floyd street and Springs-Fireplace. So, I thanked her for the information I had gotten the two men confused. But then she went on to refresh an old memory of mine about Mr. Charlie. You see, whereas I may have met Mr. Charlie when I was a kid he wasn't someone I would have seen often, the likelihood that I remembered him personally is slim. My sister asked if I remembered a blow up Santa Claus we had as children. She went to say the first time she saw that , she called it Mr. Charlie because of the big white mustache it had. That's when the fog lifted. Yes, I remember that now and that is why I associated Mr. Charlie with a mustache. Why I got Charlie Miller confused with Charlie Mott I have no explanation for. But, that much of the story was cleared up. Thing is, she also told me that it wasn't Charlie Mott that made those scenes in a bottle. She couldn't recall who it was but was certain it wasn't him. Well, only one thing to do, call Mom.
I did call and ask my mother about this mystery. She quickly cleared the whole thing up. She informed me it was a Mr. Mitchell that in fact made those things for my father. Now, being a child herself at the time she never heard him called anything but Mr. Mitchell and so had no first name. She did tell me where he lived. When she was little her mother would send her there to buy eggs off of Mrs. Mitchell. All she had to do was cross the street and head across Ed Sherrills' cow lot. The Mitchells lived next door to that. Mom tells me that the Mitchells also kept a parrot as a pet. There was an apple tree in their yard and if you went close to that tree the parrot would say, " get away from that tree " and it would startle her. As a kid she said it was fascinating and funny. When she went for eggs she always wanted to see that parrot and Mrs. Mitchell always obliged the children. The parrot was in a cage in the parlor, as Mrs. Mitchell called it. Also in that parlor was a large ship in a bottle! Mr. Mitchell had made that, and made many others as a hobby. He was known far and wide for that, probably a distance of twenty five miles around, and would build them for a price.
Just how it came to be Mom couldn't say with certainty but Mr. Mitchell was the one that made those items for my father. He had told my mother the story many times and so she was positive about that much. My father had taken those two relish jars and the other bottle to Mr. Mitchell. So, in 1934 when my dad was just ten, Mr. Mitchell, a neighbor of his and most likely a friend or acquaintance of his grandfather, made those for him. The why of it is lost to time. I like to think it is because Dad was an orphan and the old guy felt bad for him. Maybe Dad paid him to do that, but I doubt that. Whatever the case may have been it is all history now.
As Paul Harvey would have said, " that's the rest of the story. " I could write a much more interesting story, a more touching and poignant tale of a young boy dreaming of his " world in a bottle. " The thing is, I want the truth to be known as much as I can determine. That's why I'm writing this correction to yesterdays tale. It is interesting how our memories can get all mixed together. I did remember Mr. Charlie but for a blow up Santa Claus, not the real man. It is true that I have a photograph of my Great Grandfather sitting with Mr. Charlie Mott in the yard. Mr. Mott does have a white mustache , just as I said. Mr. Mitchell? I just don't have a clue. I wonder what happened to that large ship in a bottle that he made? Did it survive? Perhaps a family member has it to this very day. I like to think so. I know I have some of his work. And that, that is a good thing. His kindness is still being appreciated, just as it should be.
I did call and ask my mother about this mystery. She quickly cleared the whole thing up. She informed me it was a Mr. Mitchell that in fact made those things for my father. Now, being a child herself at the time she never heard him called anything but Mr. Mitchell and so had no first name. She did tell me where he lived. When she was little her mother would send her there to buy eggs off of Mrs. Mitchell. All she had to do was cross the street and head across Ed Sherrills' cow lot. The Mitchells lived next door to that. Mom tells me that the Mitchells also kept a parrot as a pet. There was an apple tree in their yard and if you went close to that tree the parrot would say, " get away from that tree " and it would startle her. As a kid she said it was fascinating and funny. When she went for eggs she always wanted to see that parrot and Mrs. Mitchell always obliged the children. The parrot was in a cage in the parlor, as Mrs. Mitchell called it. Also in that parlor was a large ship in a bottle! Mr. Mitchell had made that, and made many others as a hobby. He was known far and wide for that, probably a distance of twenty five miles around, and would build them for a price.
Just how it came to be Mom couldn't say with certainty but Mr. Mitchell was the one that made those items for my father. He had told my mother the story many times and so she was positive about that much. My father had taken those two relish jars and the other bottle to Mr. Mitchell. So, in 1934 when my dad was just ten, Mr. Mitchell, a neighbor of his and most likely a friend or acquaintance of his grandfather, made those for him. The why of it is lost to time. I like to think it is because Dad was an orphan and the old guy felt bad for him. Maybe Dad paid him to do that, but I doubt that. Whatever the case may have been it is all history now.
As Paul Harvey would have said, " that's the rest of the story. " I could write a much more interesting story, a more touching and poignant tale of a young boy dreaming of his " world in a bottle. " The thing is, I want the truth to be known as much as I can determine. That's why I'm writing this correction to yesterdays tale. It is interesting how our memories can get all mixed together. I did remember Mr. Charlie but for a blow up Santa Claus, not the real man. It is true that I have a photograph of my Great Grandfather sitting with Mr. Charlie Mott in the yard. Mr. Mott does have a white mustache , just as I said. Mr. Mitchell? I just don't have a clue. I wonder what happened to that large ship in a bottle that he made? Did it survive? Perhaps a family member has it to this very day. I like to think so. I know I have some of his work. And that, that is a good thing. His kindness is still being appreciated, just as it should be.
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