Life in the Valley-1
“There goes Jaybird
Magee!”
Langdale, Alabama was in the heart
of six textile mill towns of the Chattahoochee Valley- Fairfax, Riverview,
Langdale, Shawmut, Lanett Alabama and West Point, GA - Home of West Point
Manufacturing Textile Mills. Four of those towns are now known as Valley,
Alabama which is in Southeastern Chambers County along the Chattahoochee and
Tallapoosa Rivers between Montgomery Alabama and Atlanta, Georgia.
My paternal grandparents, Dan and
Lottie Belle Crowder lived in Langdale off Hwy 29, less than a half a mile from
the Langdale Mill. They shared a drive
way with the Hales. It was not unusual
for people to share a driveway in those days.
People were neighborly and looked out for each other and knew everything
about everyone that went on there. Mrs.
Hale’s mother, Mrs. Dorothy, lived next door to the Hale’s in a house with a
Mansard roof and a big screened-in porch and living with her was Jaybird Magee.
My seven-year-old sister, Donna,
and I lived with our parents in Columbus, GA about an hour and a half from the
Valley. At one time, almost everybody in the Valley worked at one of those six mills.
Including both sets of grandparents and my Mama and Daddy.
A few years after Mama and Daddy married in
1949 Daddy joined the Navy after He had worked on the looms and machines in the
mills My sister, Donna was born in 1952 in Langdale
and then Daddy took a tour of training duty in Groton Connecticut to work on
the engines of submarines and ships. Mama got so homesick for him that she moved
to Connecticut to be with him. I was
born in 1954 at the New London Naval hospital.
When his training duty was over Daddy put in for a transfer in Columbus,
Ga and continued his training as a ship mechanic at Fort Benning.
Going to visit my grandparents in the Valley
was the highlight of our lives. My
sister and I were the most loved, most beautiful, most talented grandchildren
in the world to them. They showered
gifts and compliments and squeals of delight on us every time we darkened their
doors. When we got there, be it
Christmas or vacation they always spoiled us rotten. Papo would take us to “town”
[West Point] with him and we’d stop off at the “café” for one of those little
green bottles of coke-cola and miniature powered donuts. We twirled around on the bar stools while
Papo drank his coffee with a Sacran tablet and a little bit of cream while he caught
up on the latest gossip with the locals.
Granny didn’t go with him or us much. She couldn’t get around like everyone else
did and it was a chore to get her up and down the steps, down the slanted
sidewalk and into the car. At the age of 42 she had a stroke which paralyzed
her left side. In the 1940’s medical science had not advanced enough to know
how to help people who had strokes. The
left side of her face was drawn, her hand was withered, and she used a crutch
to hold up her right side. She shuffled
and drug her left foot until it met her right and then took a step to get
around. My grandfather had to hire a colored lady named Anna Lisa, to dress my
Granny, make meals, do the wash and some light housekeeping. Almost everyone in the Valley knew about
Granny’s stroke and everyone in Langdale knew that Mr. Dan’s wife was an
invalid. It wouldn’t be for another four decades that the American Disability
act would be passed. There were no accommodations
for her in public places. The obstacles were great to find a parking place close
enough for her to get into stores. The curbs and thresh holds were too high and
there were no ramps. It was not safe for her to go along with my grandfather. She
was what you called a “shut in”, someone to be pitied and considered different.
Jaybird was one of those people who
were considered “touched” in the head. He was whispered about in public and
talked about at the dinner tables. There was no understanding of learning
disabilities, physical handicaps or terms like Autism or Turrets Syndrome as a part
of mainstream culture. We were taught to be kind and helpful to people who had
misfortunes like my granny and Jaybird.
And so, Mrs. Lottie Belle and
Jaybird connected in a way that many marveled over. He always treated Mrs. Lottie Belle with
dignity and respect and she revered him for his kindness, his visits, and his
humor.
When others ignored her or treated
her as if she were invisible, Jaybird always had time for her and stopped to
talk to her. In many ways, they were
equals.
Langdale Mill and the other mill towns of the
Valley were built on streams and tributaries of the Chattahoochee River. Highway 29 was built up high to protect it
from the flood waters. If you wanted to
get to the Crowder’s or the Hale’s homes, you either had to come down from that
hill on the driveway or walk down a set of about 20 cement steps to get into my
grandparent’s yard. Once you got down
the steps you had to climb another set of steps to get up on the front porch.
Jaybird Magee’s regular walking
route took him directly in front of their house. Up on the sidewalk Jaybird would be eyelevel
with my Granny if she were sitting on the porch. He always waved, ran down the hill of the
driveway with his arms and hands flailing and hopped up the steps onto the
porch where she sat and stopped to chat with her
One of the highlights of our
visit’s to Langdale was when we heard the locomotive of the Mill train chugging
up the hill every afternoon. All the way
up the hill you could hear the bell ringing and the roar of the engine as it
climbed from the Langdale Mill, passed my grandparent’s home to the Maintenance
Garage and then to one of the other Mills on the other side of the Valley.
Jaybird loved everything about the train too,
and he would stand out on the sidewalk or come up on the porch when he saw us
waiting for it to pass by.
We scurried to the front porch from playing dress up or “Jacks” with my
cousin Greg, when Granny yelled, “Yonder comes the train! Let’s go out and wave to the motor men!”
As granny shuffled to the front door we’d grab a popsicle or a push-up-cup
and sit on the cool concrete floor of the porch or hang off the banisters as we
licked the sugary sweet delights getting brain freeze and yelling at the
motorman to honk the horn.
Granny finally arrive just about
the time the train passed by the porch and would plop down into her shell back
chair and wave. The motor man was often
my Uncle Danny, Greg’s daddy, on his way home from the mill. If it wasn’t Uncle
Danny, we waved anyway because everyone knew Mr. Dan and Mrs. Lottie Belle and by
then the word was out that their grandchildren from Columbus had come for a visit.
The motor men always gave us a big long honk of the train horn.
Everyday Jaybird set out on his trek
past my grandparent’s house down the hill towards the creek past the smoke
stacks of the Langdale Mill, crossing over the railroad tracks. He often stopped for penny candy at Johnson’s
General Store. He knew all the regulars and talked to the people coming and
going. Mr. Johnson Let him stock some of
the shelves and then he’d give him some money or give him a bottled coke cola
and a moon pie or a bag of peanuts.
Everyone watched out for Jaybird.
He crossed the railroad bridge over the Chattahoochee
River to the Sears Auditorium and the Elementary School over the bridge as he
headed towards West Point. He always
caught the eye of some motorists who recognized him by his ram rod walk and his
arms swinging back and forth as if he were on a mission. Anyone who knew him slowed down to offer him
a ride.
He was very skinny, had big feet, crystal blue
eyes and sported a flat top hair cut with butch wax and a Charlie Chaplin mustache. He was a young man somewhere between 25 and 30.
He was always impeccably dressed in a
short-sleeved oxford cloth shirt buttoned at the collar and wore dress pant and
a sized 13 Brogan shoes. You could spot
him on the road a mile away as he walked, if you could call it that, to his
destination.
I remember asking, “Who in the
world is that guy walking so fast down the sidewalk, Granny?” She laughed and said, “OH, that’s Jaybird
Magee.”
Granny often sat out on her porch
as the sun began to burn off the morning fog and warmed herself as it rode into
high noon. Jaybird would set off from Mrs. Dorothy’s house as if he was a windup
toy with his arms swinging and his motor mouth running. Demonstrating all his southern manners he always
had time to stop for a few minutes to talk to Mrs. Lottie Belle.
In between his dialogue there were the
strangest noises coming from his mouth… whistles, bell ringing, “bripps” and “brings”
and the distinctive sound that a Blue Jay makes. He talked fast and loud ,throwing
in bird calls and motor noises I had never heard. Sometimes he cawed like a
Crow and other times he screeched like and Owl.
Me and every kid in Langdale were
mesmerized by him. Our eyes grew as big as saucers and we giggled every time he
made those noises. No” Road Runner” cartoon
was ever as animated as he was. I had never seen anything like him in my life. Throughout my childhood I would find myself mimicking
Jaybird’s sounds and getting myself in trouble in school when I randomly
blurted them out during the school day…” Meep, Meep…brriippp,brringgg !” Even
to this day when I hear or see a Blue Jay in my yard I am taken back to Jaybird
Magee.
There was no question where Jaybird
got his nickname. A Jaybird, as we called them in the south are big blue and
gray birds that squawk and carry on long before you see them. You hear them for miles as they create noise
to let all the other birds know they are in charge. He imitated the announcement call of Blue
Jays and did a mean imitation of Hawks, Mocking birds and other birds. He could whistle like the dinner bell down at
the mill, and toot like the locomotive of the train that passed by every
evening.
When Jaybird came around, my sister
Donna and I were covered our mouths and belly laughed. The more we laughed the more noises he
made. Even though we knew it was not
polite for us to laugh at him we could not help ourselves and he loved the
attention. We knew as part of our manners and Southern upbringing that we
should be kind to Jaybird. We got in big
trouble if Mama or Daddy caught us laughing at Jaybird, they would smile and say,
“Now Ya’ll know it’s not polite to laugh at Jaybird. He can’t help the way he is. We watched Granny for clues to see what she
would do. Sometimes we would catch her smiling
and trying to hide her giggles as Jaybird performed. We figured if Granny, who
was an invalid could laugh, so could we.
As quick as he hopped up the steps of her
porch he was gone again high stepping and walking fast towards West Point. You
could hear him and see him walking bolt upright as fast as his size 13 shoes
would carry him. Everybody would say, “There goes Jaybird Magee!” The people of
the Valley watched out for him always picked him up because it was their way of
caring for an unfortunate soul.
He was the kind of person who never met a
stranger and he was not at all intimidated about making those strange noises
where ever he went.
Sometimes the drivers of the “Dinky
Bus” picked him up and took him to town. The “dinky bus” was a smaller version
of a school bus provided by West Point Manufacturing for folks who needed to go
to town for groceries, hardware at Hayes Store and general shopping like JC
Penny or Woolworths. It only cost 5 cents to ride the “dinky bus” and Jaybird
was a regular entertainer on the bus. Everyone loved it when he got on. The
passengers and kids on the bus would bust a gut laughing while he put on a show
with his strange sounds. He bripped,
bringed and bonked his way all over town.
He laughed at his own jokes and imitated Laurel and Hardy, Charlie
Chaplin and The Three Stooges.
When Jaybird needed spending money
he would go around and offer to do odd jobs.
The merchants let him sweep the floors and sidewalks or pick up trash.
One story I heard was about a Langdale Mill’s supervisor's
son who questioned Jaybird one day after he announced that he worked at the
mill. The little boy asked him, “What do
you do there, Jaybird?” He replied
proudly, “I polish nail heads!”
The little boy rolled his eyes and jerked
around at his daddy as if to say, “Is that true?” His dad laughed as he whispered
to the little boy, “He sweeps the floor”. They all got a laugh out of Jaybirds
quick response.
Jaybird’s father, Mac Magee, was
the Constable of Langdale. His role
there was twofold. To keep order in the
little town and to keep a watch on the goings on of his son. He knew that the residents of Langdale would
be sure to let him know if anyone gave Jaybird a hard time.
The fountain at Langdale Elementary
school was a place Jaybird frequented in the afternoons when school let out. Kids
gathered around the fountain on their bikes surrounding Jaybird. Jaybird brought along his camera pretending to
snap pictures of the kids who would go too far and bully Jaybird.
Although Jaybird loved to make them laugh he
also used his father’s position as Constable to his advantage. He told the kids he was taking pictures to
show to the Constable. The kids would
egg him on to get him to perform his imitations and whistles, but they knew
better than to go too far because the whole town would know about it and they
would get a visit from the Constable.
When Jaybird tired of walking or
entertaining people he would sit on a bench out on Highway 29 in front of the
Elementary School and watch the cars go by. Everyone would toot their horns and
wave at him or slow down and offer him a ride home or wherever he was
headed.
Jaybird was such an icon in the
Valley that he was even asked to be in the annual Christmas parade as himself. Like
the head Master in a high school band, he marched his way down Highway 29 while
everyone cheered, and the crowd went wild. You could see his mouth moving as he
waved at the crowd and marched down the highway.
On Sunday Morning he’d often visit
with the people coming out of Langdale Congregational Christian Church and joke
with them about the people in the cemetery.
He’d look over at the tombstones and tell the members, “People are just dying
to get in that place!” If he had an audience, he would entertain anyone who
would listen.
He often picked up phrases
and sentences Pastor Richards had used in his sermon and repeated them to as he
greeted the church goers as they left the church. “Go with God!”, he would say…”
or just get going!”
Jaybird
Magee’s given name was Clifford Magee. It was said that he died in 1972 in his early 50’s of
heart issues.
In my mind he still lives
and is still one of the most memorable people I have ever met.
He became an icon in the Valley and people
still discuss him on social media site indigenous to that area.
