Last week I wrote about working in Zebulon, Pike County, in the 1970s. Jobs at that time were scarce, and as the single parent of two children, I had to take whatever job I could find. The federal government sponsored two-year jobs in which they would pay the worker for that length of time.
For two years I worked in the County Commissioners’ Office in Zebulon. Back then the trip only took 40 minutes.
I wrote about ordering food for the Prison Work Camp, just two miles out of town. The warden in charge of the camp is easy to describe.
He wasn’t over 5’8” and wore thick glasses which he never cleaned. How he could see out of them is beyond me. He was a quiet man and pretty much only spoke when asked a question.
I didn’t think too much about being assigned to go to the camp on Thursdays and ordering the food, which would be delivered on Fridays. He had not been doing so in an efficient and cost efficient manner and the commissioners felt I could do so. I don’t remember how many months I did this before my two year term of employment was up. After I had left and would call back to keep in touch with a couple favorite employees, they told me that every week after I had left, he would call the supply company and change everything I had done back to the way he wanted it. All you can do is laugh, right?
One of the commissioners was in his early to mid thirties. How he got elected, I’m not sure, as I don’t remember anyone who liked him. I mentioned the county sheriff last week, a nice guy liked by just about everyone, including prisoners in the local jail.
One day the younger commissioner and the sheriff were in the commissioners office and got into a heated argument. I don’t remember what the argument was about, I just remember it escalated into actual fisticuffs. The young commissioner had his back to me, I was sitting in a chair, and I suddenly realized he was trying to run his hand down to his ankle, were he had a knife stashed.
I wasn’t sure what I could do but I stood up to do what I could, when other male employees in the courthouse came in and got the two separated. Talk about scenes from your past you will never forget!
I have had a camera in my hand since I was seven years old. One day after a rain, some interesting mushrooms popped up on the courthouse lawn. I thought nothing of getting down on the lawn and taking pictures. One of the prisoners in the jail saw me and was later transferred to South Georgia. He wrote back to the sheriff, inquiring if “that crazy lady was still laying on the grass taking pictures.”
Indeed, that was a two year employment I won’t ever forget.
