THE BOY AND THE BICYCLE

When I was about 14 years old I was crazy for a bicycle. I found an advertisement in a magazine from the Meade Cycle Company advertising a bicycle with Hedgethorn Puncture Proof Tires. They would ship this bicycle to you C.O.D. so I knew I could get to look at it, so I filled out the order blank and mailed it in to come by express to Jackson, Kentucky, 45 miles from home in the hot summertime. I knew I couldn’t pay it out, but I wanted to see it bad enough to walk that far.

Well, I got a card from the express agent at Jackson saying I had a C.O.D. package there.

I let nobody know what I was up to, but next morning I lit a shuck for Jackson, 45 miles of hot sun and dusty road, just to take a look at that beautiful bicycle.

I went down Troublesome to the mouth of Buckhorn. The old road crossed Troublesome there and down the other side. A man lived on the other side by the name of Alfred Allen. He was known as Smokey Allen. He was high sheriff of Breathitt County at that time. He had a store there. I went and bought me a nickle’s [sic] worth of brown sugar and crackers, and that was my dinner. I hit the grit again. It was several miles on down to the mouth of Clayhole Creek. I went up Clayhole a long way and across a mountain onto a creek named Kiley. I went up Kiley a long way and crossed another hill over on to Smith’s Branch. It was a long way down Smith’s Branch to the South Fork of Quicksand. There was an old shackly bridge across Quicksand. I went across.

But I didn’t get out of heart. I kept on going, thinking how I’d love to look that pretty bicycle over. I finally got to the mouth of Quicksand where it empties into the Kentucky River and I knew from what I had heard the wagoners say that it was five miles on to Jackson.

It was some time in the afternoon. Once in a while I’d look up to see how high the sun was and wonder whether I’d get there before they closed for the day and I walked a little faster.

I finally made it in plenty of time. I walked across the bridge at Jackson about 2:30 o”clock in the evening. I went to the express house and the man said, “Howdy son, What will you want?” I told him who I was and what I was looking for. He said, “Yes, right over there it is; look it over.”

I took all the crating boards off of it and rolled it up and down the floor for about 30 minutes, smoothed over that pretty red and blue paint, admired them Hedgethorn Puncture Proof Tires. Nobody but me knows how bad I wanted that bicycle, but I had to tell the man I couldn’t take it. He said, “What’s wrong with it?” I said, “Not anything,” I said, “I knew I couldn’t take it when I left home, I just came to look at it.” I said, “I’ve walked 45 miles today just to see it.” I said, “You will just have to ship it back to the company.”

Well, I think I had 15 or 20 cents and I didn’t know where I could stay overnight. I had heard Dad talk about staying with a man named Cooley Combs, so I went back over the bridge, downheaded, out of heart, and drowned in my own sweat looking for Cooley Combs’ place. I found it and went in. After he learned who I was he said, “Son, I ain’t got a better pal nowhere than your dad.” I told him I didn’t have any money. He said that makes no difference.

The next morning I hit the grit for home, the same old hot 45 mile drag. I bought my brown sugar and cracker dinner at Morgue Allen’s store above the mouth of Clayhole. He’s a brother to Smokey Allen.

I finally got back home about wore out, but no one but me ever knew where I had been, but for a long time I could see that pretty bicycle. Just think about it, I walked 90 hot miles just to see a pretty bicycle knowing I had no hope to bring it back. It just goes to show you how bad a boy can want something.

William Owens (Tater Bill)
Tribbey, Kentucky
41770

P.S. All these articles are true so help me God.