My uncle Don was a pastor, quite a boisterous one too. When he
walked in a room, his voice reverberated everywhere and commanded my attention
in a good way. There was something about the way he carried himself that oozed
self-assurance. He loved to be the center of attention, and I remember him as
fun to be around. He was also a city boy and not wise to the country way of life.
My aunt Rachel, married to Uncle Don, was part of the cackling
hens, a term of endearment given by my uncle Charlie to my mom’s sisters. They
talked a lot. They laughed a lot. The four of them could go on for hours
telling stories about each other and their loved ones. Although there are
hundreds of stories, there are certain ones elevated to “family lore” status.
These stories are so hilarious they never seem to lose their edge. In fact I
compare the endurance of these stories to a comedian’s material. Over time the comedians
work on volumes of material, trying it out on audiences and whittling their
humor down until the gems remain. Such are the stories told by my mom and my
aunts. We, the family, are the unsuspecting audience. And as there are new stories
brought up every year around Thanksgiving, there are certain ones which make
the cut year after year. No matter how often they are told, they always get a
laugh.
One of the stories making the cut was told by my aunt Rachel. When
she and my uncle Don were first married, they traveled from Charlotte to visit
the parents in Loris, South Carolina. Now keep in mind Don is a city boy. Back
then, he had no idea people still used outhouses. But alas, my Grandpa and
Grandma were poor and indoor plumbing was still considered a luxury. Also since
they lived in the country, there were no streetlights or even house lights to
illuminate the night. Therefore darkness was indeed dark.
As my aunt Rachel tells the story, she can barely stop laughing.
One night, uncle Don has the urge to go to the bathroom and cannot wait until
morning. So in an induced slumber he awakes. He slips on his white-buck shoes.
Uncle Don with only a t-shirt, boxers and white-buck shoes makes his way
quietly through the house to the back door. Half asleep, he finds the door knob
and slowly turns it, trying to keep the creaking noise to a minimum. Out he
steps into the night, but the country night is so dark he cannot see anything.
At this point, he makes a poor decision to opt out of going to the outhouse and
instead heads over to the ditch surrounding the backside of the house. The
ditch is wide and deep because my Grandpa ensures a proper ditch is dug to
carry away turbulent rains.
Now this is about the time my Aunt Rachel is laughing so hard she
can barely finish the story. I am sure she is picturing her husband in his
t-shirt, boxers and white-buck shoes. Well, Don finds the ditch and almost
falls into the black Pee Dee dirt. After he steadies himself, he prepares to
relieve the urge pushing on his kidneys. As he looks up at the night sky and
takes a moment to relax before the relief…all I can do is join in the erupting
laughter as everyone knows the punch line about to be delivered.
You see, uncle Don did not realize there was an electric fence on
the other side of the ditch.
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