For your reading enjoyment, we continue to publish Rambling Vines by the late Marylea Vines as she recalls events and names of Corning folks from many years ago. We are currently in the year 1990

This is a rather interesting article I ran across while researching the 1931 Courier files. I thought it was rather entertaining and hope that others will too. That 1931 was an interesting year…. right smack dab in the middle of the Great Depression and no one had anything and not much of a way to accumulate anything with prices paid for work and received for farm commodities at rock bottom. At least two of The Courier correspondents took time to write histories of their communities: Heelstring and Success, and I will be passing them along to readers in the next few weeks. In the meantime, read the following and enjoy, “And This is No Fish Story Either”: Due to recent rains and the excessively heavy foliage that is prevalent everywhere in this section of Clay county now, mosquitoes have been exceedingly bothersome of late. Anyone going into the woods or fields may see large swarms of mosquitoes everywhere. Last Monday, G.B. Oliver, Jr. went hunting near Corning but, being aware that mosquitoes are bad, he took the precaution to cover all his exposed parts with a certain salve that is known to prevent mosquitoes from biting. He reports that he went into the woods and heard a squirrel in the distance, making much noise. So, he walked leisurely up to where he heard the noise. As he advanced, he saw large armies of mosquitoes, which swarmed around him but bit no part of his body on which he had placed the wonderful salve. Mr. Olivers is baldheaded but had not thought about mosquitoes reaching his head.

Suddenly, as he advanced, he was smitten with a terrible pain in the head. Reaching up to see what occasioned the pain, he discovered that several of those large insects had lit on his hat and had struck their bills through, reaching his head. He came nearer to the squirrel and raised his gun. Then he found that the mosquitoes had been on his gun stock and had eaten considerable of it away. Disregarding this, however, he raised it to his shoulder, to find that they had eaten the sight off the barrel. But just as he raised his gun, the squirrel rolled out of the tree, striking the ground dead. The mosquitoes had finally won in a death struggle with the squirrel. Mr. Oliver picked up the squirrel, rubbed some salve on it to keep the mosquitoes from doing any further damage, placed it in his hunting bag, and came home. He says that he will not go hunting again soon; at least, not until after a frost has killed the mosquitoes. He thinks that the only mistake he made was in not putting the salve on his head and gun.

(Note: And to think that all these years we have been telling ourselves that area rice fields are responsible for our mosquitoes! We didn’t have but a little bit of rice back in 1931 and look how bad they were).

Back in the early 1930’s when money was even more scarce than it is today, this woman who owned and operated a restaurant in Hop Alley, got rookered out of 10cent hamburger and a five-cent soda, which represented a big loss… just over being neighborly. This was back when we had big, big Saturdays and Hop Alley was a beehive of activity. This little woman entered the restaurant and took a seat. The owner came out of the kitchen (one person had to do the cooking, dishwashing, serve as waitress, janitor and all the other jobs to keep expenses to a minimum), and spoke to the “customer” and inquired if she could get something for her. The woman seemed undecided, so the owner suggested a hamburger and a cold soda… that sounded pretty good, so the woman said, “Okay.” She sat there cutting her eyes all around as she feasted on what was probably her first “town” hamburger and when she had finished, she went over and told the owner, “That was good, if it is ever so you can, come out to see us” and out the door went part of the day’s profits. After a few days, the restaurant owner and her family laughed about it for years and even though they didn’t think they could afford to do so, they gave away a hamburger and soda and lived over it.

I am the proud owner of a cup full of sorghum molasses, a gift from Mrs. Martha Ahrent… the Ahrent boys are always projecting with something… this time it happened to be the making of sorghum. One of my co-workers suggested hot biscuits and butter, but that’s because she doesn’t know how to eat sorghum. To get the very most out of sorghum, a person has to pour them over a big chunk of cornbread, mix it all up and eat with a case knife… doesn’t taste the same eaten any other way!

Gathered up some of my buddies, (my aunt and uncle, Elmer and Effie Vines, Beverly Shephard, and Putter) and took off to Maynard, Friday night to attend the Pioneer Days opening ceremonies at the Pioneer Museum Park. We went back on Saturday in time for the parade and that’s when Putter really showed out… I guess he just didn’t know anything about parades. Other than that, he was very good. If you haven’t seen their museum, you should. It is the very type of thing that I have tried for years to get Corning (like in the old depot), but nothing ever materialized. Just touring the museum is well worth the less than 30-minute drive over there. On Saturday there were so many people there that they couldn’t have stirred with a stick. That’s good, a lot of folks work hard yearround in preparation for this annual festival, and I know it makes them feel good all over to see such good response from area residents.

I could never have made it as a parent. I let Putter go off to Rector one afternoon last week and he no more than got gone right good until my imagination started playing tricks on me… What if they had an accident? What if they got caught in a storm? Would he be afraid off over there among nothing but strangers?… He got back in fine shape, but I was a nervous wreck!