OVER MY SHOULDER

I have seen a half a dozen or so small grass snakes in the yard and garden this spring---not a big deal to most people, but to a guy who has to have his wife go through the National Geographic and tear out all the snake pictures before he will look at it, it is a big deal. I do not like snakes of any kind-- I am even startled by the empty skins that one occasionally finds that has been shed by snakes.

Everyone has their favorite snake story---but I have several snake stories. There was the time when I was about 6 years old that the folks were planting a garden about 100 yards north of the house down on the “old Ford Place”, and I decided to walk back to the house. On the way to the house, I encounter a “blue racer”, and he chased me- or at least I thought that he was chasing me. Needless to say my commotion brought assistance from Dad in a hurry.

One needs to know that the “Ford place” was a snake paradise---Dad and the hired hand killed over 50 copperheads within 100 yards of the house one wet spring. Therefore, we boys were admonished to avoid all snakes. I recall one summer when I was 6 or 7, my cousin Marvin and I were going to “dig a well” down by the barn. We spent the most of one day digging (or at least we thought that it was most of one day)--
and had a hole about 20 or 24 inches deep---we covered it with an old board for the night when we finished. The next morning when we returned to our work, we found a snake in the hole---needless to say, that ended the well digging project.

Then there was the time that one of my younger brothers spotted a large copperhead sunning him self in the “catch box” of the old horse powered feed grinder, and Frank and I both had to take a look before we called Dad---the only problem is that Frank was not much taller than the box, and had to “pull himself up” to see over the edge--with his face only inches from the snake----as happens so many times in our life, the Good Lord protected us and the snake did not move--until Dad shot it with the 12 gauge.

One of my jobs was to gather the eggs each evening---on occasions, I would sometimes “forget” to gather the eggs until I was reminded at or after supper. One needs to know that on the farm supper is quite often at or after sundown. Sun down and supper however did not relieve me of the responsibility of gathering the eggs.

I always hated to go to the hen house after dark---and especially reach into the nest in the dark. You see those big old black snakes like eggs almost as much as we do. On several occasions I have reached into the nest only to touch a big black snake lying in there---they never seemed to mind, as they did not hurt me---of course I may have hurt myself getting away.

Each Spring, when Dad “cleaned” the cistern from which we got our drinking water, bath water, and washing (laundry) water, it was not unusual to see several snakes lying around on the ledges of the wall, or to be draped around the pipe of the hand pump. It would be several days before I would drink the water again.

It was at the “Ford place” that I was taught to never “hook” your fingers under any thing when you picked it up. You either used the edge of the object to pick it up, or used a stick or something to pry the object up, as quite often there was a snake under the object. Who of us that were raised on a farm has not seen a big old black snake around the barn and the grain bins---I am told that they are a good “balance of nature” in that they control rats, insects, and small varmints, but rarely hurt anyone. Many times I have seen then fall from the hay mown joist as one approached the barn.

The Summer that I was between High School and College, I measured corn ground for the ASCS (I am not sure that was the name then), We used a single wheel with a handle---I believe the wheel measured one rod---that clicked each time that it went around. One would push it along the side of the field, count the clicks and arrive at the size and acreage of the field.

I recall one hot steamy day, measuring one of Daylon Baker’s fields that was down in the timber---the corn was about shoulder high. For some reason as I was pushing the wheel along, I looked down at the wheel just in time to see a large rattle snake strike the wheel about one yard in front of me. Needless to say, I was shaken.

I went back by the house and told Daylon about it. He thought that he better go down there and kill the rattler. I explained that the snake would be long gone, but Daylon said “ no, once and old rattler is riled, he will stay coiled for hours”. (I have been accused of that sometimes) Daylon picked up the corn knife and we returned to the spot and sure enough there the snake was and Daylon killed him with a corn knife. (a corn knife puts one a lot closer to a rattler than I would like to be)

Several years ago when my daughter-in-law, Sandee, was working on her Masters Degree in college, she assisted with a program called “Nature Quest”. A part of this program involved taking animals and reptiles to various class rooms for demonstrations and teaching units.

One day as Sandee was returning home from a demonstration in the Caney schools, she stopped by for a few minutes---it was a cold winter day, and she had her collection of animals and reptiles with her. She asked if she could bring the large “Boa”, who was securely caged, into the house, so that he would not get cold and perhaps sick. Well I love my daughter-in-law and she is welcome any time, but the snake stays in the car. In the interest of the snake’s health Sandee went on home with plans to visit another time when she did not have her “pet”.

My favorite snake story (if one can have a favorite snake story) happened to me after I was married. Christine and I were spending the weekend with her parents, Brownie and Thelma Spencer. Thelma and Brownie, like many people who lived on the farm, still had the out door toilet (privy--outhouse--back house, or what ever that particular family called it). My parents did not get indoor plumbing until I was through college, and Christine’s folks did not do so until Thelma retired and moved to town.

One could do a whole article about the old out door privy--and I probably will one of these days. On this particular Summer afternoon, I had occasion to use the old privy. As I was sitting there minding my own business, I happened to look at the header above the door, and lying on that header draped back and forth was a big black snake---who looked 30 feet long (but was probably more like 4 or 5 feet long).

At this point we all know how I feel about snakes and here I was in this small area with a snake only a few feet from me. Now those of you who have experienced the old outdoor privies know that there are only two openings (sometimes 3 if it is a “two holer”) out of that area----I concluded rather quickly that one of those opening was too small for me to make an exit through, and the other opening had that big snake lying over the door. But I had to leave---I was not about to wait until that snake decided to leave---and the only way out was under that snake----Who by the way I am now sure was sleeping but at that time I was sure that he was waiting to drop down on me.

Most of you know that I wear blue and white striped carpenter overalls as work clothes, and I had them on that day. Now I figured that if I stood up and fastened my suspenders, that my head would be only 18 inches or so from that snake. Then on the other hand, I could dart out the door without pulling up my overalls until I was out into the yard. As I was about to dart out, I remembered how many times I had seen an old black snake drop from the hay mow floor joists in the barn, and I was sure that just as I went through the door, he would choose to drop and land in the back of my overalls.

Christine and her mother (Thelma) still laughs about seeing a grown man running across the yard with his overall suspenders flapping in the wind.------Well the snake did not drop and about 30 yards from the privy, I did have the nerve to stop and pull my overalls back up.

I am sure that if the Good Lord happened to be looking down that day at that time, he had a good chuckle. The Good Lord has certainly looked after me in all of my contacts with snakes (and in every other way)----well enough that I almost forgive him for allowing snakes and chiggers on the Ark. LDC