joejordan
Member
“One day, Billy Clyde Puckett and I…”
By Crunch
Before high school, Billy Clyde was known as BC, that’s what everyone except his mother called him. The reason was because I was his best friend, and my name is Billy Joe, and so folks got to calling me Billy, and him BC. Of course in high school, BC gathered quite a bit of attention, and at some point he became Billy Clyde Puckett.
On a Saturday in the summer you could find us boys in a variety of places. The swimming hole just past the train trestle was a favorite. We built forts, and had dirt clod wars with some of the older boys. BC once hit a boy at full run from about 30 yards out, with a dirt clod.
One time, we were near BC’s house shooting cans and junk with his BB gun. It was late Spring and Robins was everywhere. Well, BC got him one. We were both surprised, because we could hardly hit anything with that gun. We run up to where the bird had fallen, standing there looking at it, when BC’s mom called from their back steps, “Boys, you better start a fire, because that’s your lunch.” We then proceeded to do our best to clean and eviscerate that bird. We stuck two very thin pieces of meat onto some bendable wire and cooked it over a small fire. It was greasy and gamey, and not near as much meat as you would think, the way their chest puffs out.
By Crunch
Before high school, Billy Clyde was known as BC, that’s what everyone except his mother called him. The reason was because I was his best friend, and my name is Billy Joe, and so folks got to calling me Billy, and him BC. Of course in high school, BC gathered quite a bit of attention, and at some point he became Billy Clyde Puckett.
On a Saturday in the summer you could find us boys in a variety of places. The swimming hole just past the train trestle was a favorite. We built forts, and had dirt clod wars with some of the older boys. BC once hit a boy at full run from about 30 yards out, with a dirt clod.
One time, we were near BC’s house shooting cans and junk with his BB gun. It was late Spring and Robins was everywhere. Well, BC got him one. We were both surprised, because we could hardly hit anything with that gun. We run up to where the bird had fallen, standing there looking at it, when BC’s mom called from their back steps, “Boys, you better start a fire, because that’s your lunch.” We then proceeded to do our best to clean and eviscerate that bird. We stuck two very thin pieces of meat onto some bendable wire and cooked it over a small fire. It was greasy and gamey, and not near as much meat as you would think, the way their chest puffs out.
