Life in the Valley 1- " There goes Jabird Magee !"

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.