The charms of country living

Copyright 2005 Leader Publications

Recently I heard a couple of radio DJs poking fun at Jefferson Countians.  The nerve of those guys!  Granted, my sister-in-law, who lives in another county, and I joke about the fact that I'm "the relative from Jefferson County," but it's all in fun.  She herself hails from family that come out of the Bootheel of southeast Missouri, real country people.

I suppose I do my share in carrying on the stereotype.  A few years back, I worked at a job with a co-worker who lived in Wildwood.  He loved to make fun on my county of residence.

I  told my co-worker about the time my smoking car finally caught fire in downtwon Cedar Hill and a nice older couple offered me a ride home.

"They had just come out of the liquor store next to the video shop," I said.

Actually, they told me that their son owned the liquor store and they were coming from a visit with him, information I also passed on to my co-worker. 

Then there was the time I was sitting at the intersection of highways 30 and W when a pickup truck caught my attention across the way.  The driver was wearing those old-time pilot's goggles, the kind I had only seen in Snoopy cartoons.  After observing for a few moments, I realized why the goggles.  The truck had no windshield!


Another time I was exiting the Cedar Hill Post Office, walking out behind a man maybe in his thirties, and his mother.  The man had on overalls with a white tee shirt underneath, a huge belly partially hidden by the overalls in front.  He walked kind of stooped over.  He had rather long thin stringy brown hair. 

His mother had on a long tee shirt covering her large belly.  She also walked hunched over at the shoulders and had long, thinner, stringy gray hair. 

As they began to exit the lobby, they stopped at looked up at the 10 Most Wanted poster.

"Yeap, he's on there," the man said, pointing to one of the pictures.

Admittedly, I said to myself, "Leave it to Jefferson County to have people looking up their friends and relatives on the 10 Most Wanted poster!"

Another time, as I left the local grocery store in Cedar Hill, being distracted, I went to the wrong car, thinking it was mine.  I opened the drivers door and found myself looking at an older country gentleman.  He had on the stereotypical overalls with white tee underneath, a huge belly in front.  He had white hair and a white beard.

Realizing my mistake, I said, "Oops.  Wrong car," and shut the door.  As I walked away, I heard the man cry out, "Eck!  I ain't never had some'in like that happen ta me bafore!"

My family and I have unwittingly contributed to the typecast of Jefferson Countians in other ways.  Over the years, we've had the stereotyped requisite pick-up trucks, backyard dogs to keep predators away from the rabbits and chickens, and cats to keep away the rodents attracted by the dog, rabbit and chicken food.

I hang my laundry out on the line and when I care for the outside pets, I wear overalls and knee-high rubber boots (and do they help when it's wet and muddy). 

Even though I may joke myself about the stereotype of Jefferson County, the way we live belies the fact that we are hapy this way.  There is nothing wrong with being "country folk."  The ones previously described resprsent a life of contented simplicity.  I believe my own family's life is less hectic than that of so many others living in more upscale communities.

There is poverty in Jefferson County, of course.  But there's also a good dose of compassion here.  There are groups like the Big River Gobblers and the High Rdige Rotary clubs that donate hundreds of turkeys to the local food pantries at holiday times.  The pantries in turn can then provide all the other fixin's for their neighbor's holiday meals.  And county resident's, many of them retired citizens, donate their time working at the pantries.

Then there are the schools in our county that are well known for their generosity in collections for all kinds of causes.

When our own kids were still in school, I remember overhearing teachers talking about buying needed clothing for some of their less fortunate students.

Living in Jefferson County also affords us the opportunity to sample small-town charms similar to those found in the old "Andy Griffith Show."  Where else could you go to get your kid's haircut and end up babysitting the beautician's grandbaby while she performed the cuts?

And where else could you fill up on gas, only to find you left your wallet and check book at home and have the cashier take money out of her own back pocket and say, "You can pay me later."

After protesting, she said, "How long have I known you?"

I didn't even know her name, but she previously had been the cashier at the Dollar General in Cedar Hill for the 20 or so years I shopped there.

Some old-timers in Jefferson County may be thought of as "hillbillies" by some, but to me that only means they're down-to-earth nice.  My longtime neighbors sosp their vehicles to chat when driving past my home if I'm out.  One neighbor regularly buys treats for my little housedog to give when I walk her past their home.  Others stop me to talk when I pass by.

We receive visits from other neighbors as well, those from the woods.  We have a barred own couple whose antics we listen to when it's cool enoguh to have the air conditioning off and the windows open.  And I've had to stop my car on the road after dark to wait for a great horned owl to make its slow ascent with its long-tailed prey hanging between its talons.  We also have a herd of about a dozen deer that bed down in winter in the tall, dried grass on the side of our house.  Their circular beds of various sizes give away how many young ones are in the herd.

We've had our share of visits from raccoons and opossums and the infrequent skunk or fox.  From time to time we'll hear the wails of coyote in the distance.  Our oldest son says he's seen bobcat in the shallow woods behind our yard.  We also have a pair of pileated woodpeckers and their younster living in our woods, something that's considered to be a rarity due to the creature's shyness of humans.

My grandpa was one who had an appreciatiuon for Jefferson County.  When raising his family in St. Louis in the 1930s and '40s, he owned a clubhouse in Cedar Hill, in "the foothills of the Ozarks," he called Jefferson County.  Years later when I moved to Cedar Hill, Grandpa was delighted.  My dad used to tell me that every time he would drop by to visit his parents, "Pop" would get out of his chair, grab his hat and say, "Are we going out to Cathy's?"

And when sitting out on my back deck on cool autumn evenings, I think of Grandpa and understand why he had such a fondness for Jefferson County.  Along with all its other quaint charms, no place tops Jefferson County for its view of the sky and rolling, wooded hills.