The first time, in his teen years, was when he walked away from a Georgia chain gang and hopped a freight west, bailing off in Anniston.
“Got the bleep beat out of me and thrown back on the train,” was his remembrance The next time came during his Hollywood years. While fishing Lake Guntersville, Mitchum ran out of drink, got in his car, and wound up in Anniston.
Strolling the streets, Mitchum was accosted by a policeman and asked exactly what he was doing.
“Looking for a drink,” he replied. “You know where I can find one?”
The policeman, not recognizing Mitchum, arrested the movie star for vagrancy. A friend from Guntersville bailed him out the next day.
Now from Jerry Shaddix of Oxford, this email:
“Robert Mitchum was aboard the USS Whitehurst in 1957. I was stationed on the Whitehurst, homeport Pearl Harbor. The film, ‘The Enemy Below,’ was filmed aboard our ship.
“Dick Powell, the director, brought his wife aboard on two occasions, none other than June Allyson. Most all of our crew met and talked with Mitchum. I was impressed with how down to earth he was.”
Not dancing, but I suppose you could say Jerry was “Walking and Talking With The Stars.”
Thanks, Jerry …
You can put Annie Cooley, a hostess at Jack’s in Wedowee, at the top of the list. I stopped there recently and the best way to describe Annie Cooley is she has a good face, sort of wraps around you.
She lives up to that, too.
I’m told that Wayne Reaves, who has like nine or so Jack’s (including Lenlock and my hangout on Quintard) will build his new restaurant in the parking lot next door to where a Long John Silver’s was once located.
The current Jack’s, of course, will be torn down.
Along the highways in and out of incorporated areas, you will read:
You will also see Township on occasion. In fact, I have a buddy who lives in Washington, Pa., who says there are like 40 or more “townships” just in his county.
I’d like to know what’s the difference.
To move into the rest of the story, I need to tell you his name is Byron Smilak and he was a newspaper columnist like myself before retiring.
He was down here once while the blackberries were in bloom. He asked what they were. With a totally straight face, I replied:
“Oh, those are grit trees in bloom. That’s where we get our grits.”
Byron went home and wrote a column about our “grit trees.”
There are times I just can’t help myself … and I still haven’t told him differently.
George Smith can be reached at 256-239-5286 or email: email@example.com