Lately Sherry has been really focused on this years 4th of July celebration here in Willard.  The theme this year is “Then and Now” and you can just imagine where peoples heads are going with that theme.  She is putting together a then and now about the 4th celebrations, houses, old business’s and people.  Her crew of helpers are working their tails off to get it done.  But, the biggest thing I see coming from all of these efforts is the “past”.  Memories of things that people have done in their lives and the people that influenced them as they grew up.

Sherry assigned me a fun task and that was to get with Carol Butler Billings and try and get “her story” about growing up in and around the “Shack”.  The Shack was the only bar in town and her father built it and ran it for many, many years.

A partial story about the Shack goes like this.  The ground where the Shack is today was used as a garage.  A hole dug into the ground where people would pull their cars/trucks over and the mechanic would work on the under side of the vehicle.  Jack Herbert Butler was a mechanic at that garage for a number of years and it wasn’t long until they put in some gas pumps and built a building over the pit.  The days were financially tight back then and there wasn’t a whole lot of money floating around.  The depression was taking its toll all around the nation.

The President called for some action to get the economy going again and the Civilian Conservation Corp (CCC) was formed.  Willard had an encampment of “CCC boys” just on the South part of town, east of the highway.  Those men came from all over the nation to work.  They were here to dig terraces up behind the mountain to help slow down the water run off when heavy rain storms came.  They worked many years with picks and shovels to get that job done.

In the mean time, when they were not working they wanted to have a cold drink.  Be it soda water or beer and they came to the garage to find it.  It didn’t take old “Herb” long to realize there was more money in serving beer than there was in fixing old cars and so, he covered up the pit and built a bigger place.  It was called “Jacks Place” back then.  One of the local men wrote a poem about it before he left to go fight in World War II.  All of the local men that went to war returned to Jacks Place after their work was done.

I just got off the phone with Carol and explained that we would like a writeup of some of the memories she has of growing up around Jacks Place and Willard in general.  She went on and on telling me about her childhood.

She also said she was talking with another old Willardite, Larry Bragger and how the two of them talked for almost 2 hours the other day.  Reminiscing about the old times and how they needed to write their stories down for us younger folks to read and understand just how “free” they were back in their days.  How true!

We all have our story to tell.  It’s really too bad my folks stories didn’t get written down.  And their folks stories and their folks before them and their folks before them as well and on and on.  I guess what I’m trying to say with this posting is we all need to write down our story for the next generation to read and understand.  A big task for sure, but one that will be worth every minute spent.  Look at the memories that my dear Aunt Maria created with her diary.  Not every day was a big deal, but collectively you can see just what was happening throughout her life time.  The number of friends the family had and all the good and bad things that came and went over time.

Start your story today.

Bears Butt

June 21, 2012