The Headless Train Conductor
Getting close to Halloween brings back memories of when I was a young boy of 12 in North Carolina, I had heard tales of a ghost train that would appear on a certain stretch of railroad track close to our home, on the rare moonless night. And of the train conductor who had lost his head many years ago in a freak accident - and who's spirit was constantly searching for his head.
On one Summer night I was walking along that same railroad track - I used to walk up to the local roller skating rink to see my girlfriend a few times a week - not too far from our house. On this particular night, it was as black as ink - no moon, but millions of stars in the clear sky. As I was walking, I remember the hairs on the back of my head began to raise, as I sensed that something was not right - something was coming towards me. I instinctively jumped off the railroad tracks - like I always did many other times when a train was coming. But this time - there was no train coming - at least not like any train that I had seen before.
From the distance, I could see the beginnings of a light coming towards me - like the head lamp of a distant train. But this light was different - the light swung from side to side - not like the motionless light of a train engine. I listened for the sound of the engine - but there was no sound, only the sounds of the night - millions and millions of crickets and other various insects that fill the night in the Summer. All of a sudden it was completely silent. The swinging light got closer and closer, brighter and brighter - I had heard the legend of the headless conductor who had tragically lost his head in a horrible train accident and who was eternally looking for it to reclaim - but I didn't believe it - until now. As the light bore down on me, I covered my face with my arms - and I prayed - like I have never prayed before. I looked at it as long as I could - I never saw the headless conductor, but I saw that swinging light coming at me - swinging very hard, from the right to the left and back - and as bright as the sunlit day! The train/light went past me at an incredible rate of speed - it was over in an instant - and when I looked up, it was completely gone. All I could hear was the pounding of my heart. And then the sounds of the Summer night again.
I sat there for what seemed like hours - my heart continuing to pound. Until finally I rallied myself together and continued my journey to see my girlfriend - who, of course, did not really believe me - even though she had also heard the stories. As no one else did. But it was real - as real as you and I, my friend. I will never, ever forget that scary Summer night in North Carolina.
I truly believe in the legends, and in ghosts!
- Rick Gurkin
Monday, September 1, 2008
Southern Fried Fish
Southern Fried Fish
Serves 8.
- Whole fish (6-8 oz each is a good frying size)
- ½ half cup self-rising flour
- 2 cups self-rising cornmeal
- 1-½ cups shortening or oil (You can substitute bacon fat for part of the oil for a better taste)
Serves 8.
The Bear
The Bear
Hunting was, pretty much, a way of life for me. I started out settin snares for birds and rabbits and used slingshots for squirrels and finally traded a mess of skins for a 30-30 Winchester and used that rifle for many years. I know a lot of guys opt for the high-powered rifles nowadays, like the semi-automatic 30-06 and the 7mm's. Those are well and good, but with a good 30-30 (we pronounce that thuty-thuty), you can put the balls in a 1-inch circle at 150 yards all day long. In the swamps, if you get a shot much over 20 or 30 yards, it will be because a tree has fallen down. It is some thick in there. After several years of hunting with the thuty-thuty, I finally gave it up for a black powder rifle I made and finally gave up guns all together and hunted only with a bow and arrow. My favorite hunting area was just in the edge of the Dismal Swamps. This is in Beaufort County, North Carolina and is home to deer, bear, alligators and every kind of poisonous snake on the North American Continent. Including water moccasins, cottonmouths, coral snakes, and diamond back rattlers. I don't kill the snakes. I figure God put them here to do a job and their business ain't none of mine. I didn't worry about the gators, cause unless you got real dumb, they were no problem. Over the years I had been seeing and hunting for this one particular black bear, but rarely, if ever saw him during hunting season. This bear had a track about 6-1/2 inches across and claws about 4 inches long and I followed that track enough miles to recognize it anyplace in the swamps. Bear season is about a month after deer season starts and is only 1 week long. When I would go deer/bear hunting, I would generally stay out in the swamps until dark and then come on back to the cabin. The part of the Dismal Swamps I hunted in was about 15 miles across and a little over 30 miles long. So it would be pitch dark by the time I would walk the 2 or 3 miles out of the swamps. When I was too far out and there was much quicksand in the area I would climb up a Live Oak and spend the night in the fork of a limb. No need to bother with a light, cause you would just get confused and lost if you tried to actually see your way. I never did get lost in the swamps, but once I was mighty confused for a day. It took me most of the next day to walk back from where I finally came out. Once, I was in the swamps and a hurricane blew through. When I had walked in I was on dry land. When I came out I was wading in water up to my waist and from the edge of the swamps out to the first land that was not under water was over a mile away. My pocket watch in my bib overalls was a quarter of the way filled with water. That was a lot of rain. Just to give you an idea of how much rain can fall in a hurricane, we had a big one about 3 years ago and it flooded a lot of eastern North Carolina up to a depth of 8 feet. Over 38,000 homes were destroyed. Anyway, back to the bear. One night I had finally worked my way out of the Dismals to where the trail forked off to the left to my cabin. It was a moonlight night and I could see this big ole hound dog walking down the trail towards me. We keep getting closer and closer to each other, until he was about 10 feet from me and then he turned off the trail going up into the trees alongside the trail going to my cabin. When he made the turn I could see that it wasn't a hound at all, but it was that big ole black bear. That was a lonesome walk up that half-mile long trail. Another time I was up in a homemade tree stand out in back of the cornfield and about a mile back in the woods. Dusk is about the best time for deer hunting and it was just starting to get kinda dark when I heard a low grunt. Sometimes a deer will grunt and I got my bow and arrow ready and was peering out into the trees and brush looking as hard as I could. Couldn't see a dang thing. Kept hearing that low grunt though. About that time my tree stand kinda jumped and I looked down. There was that dang ole black bear with his paws on my tree stand looking up at me. It was not bear season and I could not legally shoot; I'm not saying that I ran out of the woods, but if that bear had managed to claw me, he would have done serious damage to my butt. Just to let me know that he was boss of the woods, the bear got to where he would either claw up the trees I had stands in or he would claw and chew up my tree stands. On two separate occasions, he drug up deer he had gotten from someplace and ate them within sight of my tree stand. That bear and I had many run ins over the years and I kinda got to where I halfway expected him to be someplace close by. I'm not going to tell about killing him. I can't think of any humorous way to tell it and to be quite truthful, I miss that bear something bad. I don’t hunt anymore.
Hunting was, pretty much, a way of life for me. I started out settin snares for birds and rabbits and used slingshots for squirrels and finally traded a mess of skins for a 30-30 Winchester and used that rifle for many years. I know a lot of guys opt for the high-powered rifles nowadays, like the semi-automatic 30-06 and the 7mm's. Those are well and good, but with a good 30-30 (we pronounce that thuty-thuty), you can put the balls in a 1-inch circle at 150 yards all day long. In the swamps, if you get a shot much over 20 or 30 yards, it will be because a tree has fallen down. It is some thick in there. After several years of hunting with the thuty-thuty, I finally gave it up for a black powder rifle I made and finally gave up guns all together and hunted only with a bow and arrow. My favorite hunting area was just in the edge of the Dismal Swamps. This is in Beaufort County, North Carolina and is home to deer, bear, alligators and every kind of poisonous snake on the North American Continent. Including water moccasins, cottonmouths, coral snakes, and diamond back rattlers. I don't kill the snakes. I figure God put them here to do a job and their business ain't none of mine. I didn't worry about the gators, cause unless you got real dumb, they were no problem. Over the years I had been seeing and hunting for this one particular black bear, but rarely, if ever saw him during hunting season. This bear had a track about 6-1/2 inches across and claws about 4 inches long and I followed that track enough miles to recognize it anyplace in the swamps. Bear season is about a month after deer season starts and is only 1 week long. When I would go deer/bear hunting, I would generally stay out in the swamps until dark and then come on back to the cabin. The part of the Dismal Swamps I hunted in was about 15 miles across and a little over 30 miles long. So it would be pitch dark by the time I would walk the 2 or 3 miles out of the swamps. When I was too far out and there was much quicksand in the area I would climb up a Live Oak and spend the night in the fork of a limb. No need to bother with a light, cause you would just get confused and lost if you tried to actually see your way. I never did get lost in the swamps, but once I was mighty confused for a day. It took me most of the next day to walk back from where I finally came out. Once, I was in the swamps and a hurricane blew through. When I had walked in I was on dry land. When I came out I was wading in water up to my waist and from the edge of the swamps out to the first land that was not under water was over a mile away. My pocket watch in my bib overalls was a quarter of the way filled with water. That was a lot of rain. Just to give you an idea of how much rain can fall in a hurricane, we had a big one about 3 years ago and it flooded a lot of eastern North Carolina up to a depth of 8 feet. Over 38,000 homes were destroyed. Anyway, back to the bear. One night I had finally worked my way out of the Dismals to where the trail forked off to the left to my cabin. It was a moonlight night and I could see this big ole hound dog walking down the trail towards me. We keep getting closer and closer to each other, until he was about 10 feet from me and then he turned off the trail going up into the trees alongside the trail going to my cabin. When he made the turn I could see that it wasn't a hound at all, but it was that big ole black bear. That was a lonesome walk up that half-mile long trail. Another time I was up in a homemade tree stand out in back of the cornfield and about a mile back in the woods. Dusk is about the best time for deer hunting and it was just starting to get kinda dark when I heard a low grunt. Sometimes a deer will grunt and I got my bow and arrow ready and was peering out into the trees and brush looking as hard as I could. Couldn't see a dang thing. Kept hearing that low grunt though. About that time my tree stand kinda jumped and I looked down. There was that dang ole black bear with his paws on my tree stand looking up at me. It was not bear season and I could not legally shoot; I'm not saying that I ran out of the woods, but if that bear had managed to claw me, he would have done serious damage to my butt. Just to let me know that he was boss of the woods, the bear got to where he would either claw up the trees I had stands in or he would claw and chew up my tree stands. On two separate occasions, he drug up deer he had gotten from someplace and ate them within sight of my tree stand. That bear and I had many run ins over the years and I kinda got to where I halfway expected him to be someplace close by. I'm not going to tell about killing him. I can't think of any humorous way to tell it and to be quite truthful, I miss that bear something bad. I don’t hunt anymore.
Country Fried Chicken
Country Fried Chicken
Use a whole fryer, cut up, or parts of your choice. It takes about 2 minutes over a medium high heat for oil to get hot enough for frying. If it smokes or pops when the chicken touches it, the oil is too hot.
In a bowl, mix 2 teaspoons salt with 2 cups water. Put in the chicken and parts and let soak for 15 to 20 minutes. Drain. Mix together the flour, pepper, and salt and batter the chicken by dipping the pieces in the flour mixture until they are coated on all sides, shaking off excess flour. In a skillet, over medium heat, let the shortening get hot. It should be at 350 degrees on a thermometer, or you can test it by taking a piece of chicken and letting the corner touch the shortening: if it begins to fry, the shortening is ready. If the shortening appears too hot, remove the skillet from the heat and let it cool a little. Brown the chicken on all sides, reducing the heat if needed as it cooks. It takes about 20 minutes to fry chicken well-done. If you are afraid that the chicken is not done even though the batter is browned, put it in a baking pan and place it in the oven at 350 degrees for 15 minutes. Remove the liquid from the bottom of the pan, and brush the liquid over the chicken. Return the chicken to the oven and bake for 20 to 25 minutes longer or until tender. (It will be done when it feels soft when mashed).
Serves 8.
Use a whole fryer, cut up, or parts of your choice. It takes about 2 minutes over a medium high heat for oil to get hot enough for frying. If it smokes or pops when the chicken touches it, the oil is too hot.
- Chicken and parts
- ½ teaspoon salt
- 1-½ cups self-rising flour
- 1-½ cups shortening
- 1 teaspoon black pepper
In a bowl, mix 2 teaspoons salt with 2 cups water. Put in the chicken and parts and let soak for 15 to 20 minutes. Drain. Mix together the flour, pepper, and salt and batter the chicken by dipping the pieces in the flour mixture until they are coated on all sides, shaking off excess flour. In a skillet, over medium heat, let the shortening get hot. It should be at 350 degrees on a thermometer, or you can test it by taking a piece of chicken and letting the corner touch the shortening: if it begins to fry, the shortening is ready. If the shortening appears too hot, remove the skillet from the heat and let it cool a little. Brown the chicken on all sides, reducing the heat if needed as it cooks. It takes about 20 minutes to fry chicken well-done. If you are afraid that the chicken is not done even though the batter is browned, put it in a baking pan and place it in the oven at 350 degrees for 15 minutes. Remove the liquid from the bottom of the pan, and brush the liquid over the chicken. Return the chicken to the oven and bake for 20 to 25 minutes longer or until tender. (It will be done when it feels soft when mashed).
Serves 8.
Meatballs with Spaghetti (1940's to 50's recipe)
Meatballs with Spaghetti
1940's to 50's recipe
In a bowl, mix together eggs, 1 tablespoon tomato paste, onion, cheese, parsley, garlic and 1 teaspoon salt. Add beef and bread crumbs; mix thoroughly. Form into 20 balls, about 1 inch in diameter. Lightly brown in a dutch oven on all sides in hot oil; drain. Blend remaining tomato paste with hot water, sugar, basil, oregano, 1 teaspoon salt and pepper in a bowl. Pour over meatballs. Cover; simmer 10 minutes. Uncover; simmer 10 minutes longer. Serve over spaghetti.Serves 8.
1940's to 50's recipe
- 2-eggs, beaten
- 1-lb ground beef
- 2-6 oz, or 1-12 oz can Hunts Tomato Paste
- 3/4 cup soft bread crumbs
- 3-tablespoons cooking oil
- 1/4-cup minced onions
- 2-½ cups hot water
- 1/4-cup grated Parmesan cheese
- 1-teaspoon basil
- 2-tablespoons minced parsley
- 1-teaspoon oregano
- 1-clove garlic, minced
- 1/4-teaspoon pepper
- 2-teaspoons salt
- 1-lb spaghetti, cooked and drained
In a bowl, mix together eggs, 1 tablespoon tomato paste, onion, cheese, parsley, garlic and 1 teaspoon salt. Add beef and bread crumbs; mix thoroughly. Form into 20 balls, about 1 inch in diameter. Lightly brown in a dutch oven on all sides in hot oil; drain. Blend remaining tomato paste with hot water, sugar, basil, oregano, 1 teaspoon salt and pepper in a bowl. Pour over meatballs. Cover; simmer 10 minutes. Uncover; simmer 10 minutes longer. Serve over spaghetti.Serves 8.
Pan-Grilled Pork Chops
Pan-Grilled Pork Chops
Sprinkle the thyme and salt on both sides of the chops. Let sit for about 30 minutes. Spread the oil over the bottom of a large iron skillet over medium heat. Place the chops in the pan and cook slowly, lowering the heat, and let chops sit for 8 to 10 minutes. Serves 4.
- 4 center-cut pork chops (1 inch thick)
- 1 teaspoon salt
- 1 teaspoon dried thyme
- 1 tablespoon oil
Sprinkle the thyme and salt on both sides of the chops. Let sit for about 30 minutes. Spread the oil over the bottom of a large iron skillet over medium heat. Place the chops in the pan and cook slowly, lowering the heat, and let chops sit for 8 to 10 minutes. Serves 4.
Lard and Cracklings
Lard and Cracklings
Ask the butcher for fat from pork loins. It should be firm fat, about 3 to 4 lbs of it. Cut the fat into ½ inch cubes and place them in a large pot. Cook slowly over low heat so that the fat won’t stick to the pot. Stir often--it will take a while. When the fat begins to get real hot, it will turn brown. Stir so that the fat will brown evenly. When all of the fat is brown or appears to be dry, take the cracklings (the solid, crispy residue) out of the pot and put them in a colander to drain. Let the lard sit in the pot so the crumbs settle to the bottom. Put the lard through a strainer to remove the crumbs and refrigerate the lard until ready to use. Cracklings are best with cornbread.
Ask the butcher for fat from pork loins. It should be firm fat, about 3 to 4 lbs of it. Cut the fat into ½ inch cubes and place them in a large pot. Cook slowly over low heat so that the fat won’t stick to the pot. Stir often--it will take a while. When the fat begins to get real hot, it will turn brown. Stir so that the fat will brown evenly. When all of the fat is brown or appears to be dry, take the cracklings (the solid, crispy residue) out of the pot and put them in a colander to drain. Let the lard sit in the pot so the crumbs settle to the bottom. Put the lard through a strainer to remove the crumbs and refrigerate the lard until ready to use. Cracklings are best with cornbread.
Grandpa Kader and the Black Snake
Grandpa Kader and the Black Snake
Down home we have to fence in all of our barnyard fowls to keep out foxes, opossum and other varmints. When I say fence in, I mean we even have to put chicken wire over the top of the hen house and the entire chicken yard. Even then we lose chickens and eggs on a regular basis. I can remember one hot dusty day when Bo Beasley and I had been out splitting the rows in the cotton patch and were bringing the mules back to the barn, along about sundown. We saw some activity over by the chicken coop and after we finished watering and feeding the mules we hot-footed it over there to see what was happening. (We took care of the mules first, cause if you didn't, Grandpa Kader would get awful unhappy). When we got there, we saw a 6-foot long Black Snake. We called them "black runners" cause they could go so fast. That snake had a big lump in his middle and was trying to break it. He couldn't get out of the chicken pen cause the lump was too big and wouldn't fit through the chicken wire. And as we watched, he wrapped himself around a cypress post and tried to squeeze the lump and then went on top of the chicken house and flew off and hit the ground with a thump, trying to break that lump. Well Grandma Estelle would not have any snakes in her chicken coop, so Bo and I killed the snake and Grandpa Kader cut him open to see what was making the lump. Black snakes dearly love to eat chicken eggs and they swallow them whole and then constrict their bodies to crush the egg. Grandma Estelle, had a few 'settin hens' and to help motivate them to lay eggs, she would put ceramic eggs under the hens to get them to laying. That dern Black snake had swallowed one of the ceramic eggs by mistake.
Down home we have to fence in all of our barnyard fowls to keep out foxes, opossum and other varmints. When I say fence in, I mean we even have to put chicken wire over the top of the hen house and the entire chicken yard. Even then we lose chickens and eggs on a regular basis. I can remember one hot dusty day when Bo Beasley and I had been out splitting the rows in the cotton patch and were bringing the mules back to the barn, along about sundown. We saw some activity over by the chicken coop and after we finished watering and feeding the mules we hot-footed it over there to see what was happening. (We took care of the mules first, cause if you didn't, Grandpa Kader would get awful unhappy). When we got there, we saw a 6-foot long Black Snake. We called them "black runners" cause they could go so fast. That snake had a big lump in his middle and was trying to break it. He couldn't get out of the chicken pen cause the lump was too big and wouldn't fit through the chicken wire. And as we watched, he wrapped himself around a cypress post and tried to squeeze the lump and then went on top of the chicken house and flew off and hit the ground with a thump, trying to break that lump. Well Grandma Estelle would not have any snakes in her chicken coop, so Bo and I killed the snake and Grandpa Kader cut him open to see what was making the lump. Black snakes dearly love to eat chicken eggs and they swallow them whole and then constrict their bodies to crush the egg. Grandma Estelle, had a few 'settin hens' and to help motivate them to lay eggs, she would put ceramic eggs under the hens to get them to laying. That dern Black snake had swallowed one of the ceramic eggs by mistake.
Southern Style Pork Chops in Gravy
Southern Style Pork Chops in Gravy
Rinse the pork chops under cold running water. Place on a paper towel to drain. Mix together the flour, salt, and pepper. Coat the chops lightly with the flour mixture. In a large skillet heat the oil over medium high heat until hot. Put in the pork chops and let them brown on both sides. They should cook fast enough to brown over medium high heat - about 4 minutes per side - but, you can turn the heat up or down as needed. Remove the cooked chops from the skillet. To make the gravy, drain all but 2 tablespoons of the oil from the skillet and stir in the flour. Mix well and let brown. Stir in the hot water. Return the chops to the pan, reduce the heat, and simmer, covered, for 6 to 8 minutes.
Serves 4 to 6.
- 6 center-cut pork chops, about ½ inch thick
- ½ teaspoon black pepper
- 1-½ cups self-rising flour
- ½ cup oil or shortening
- 1 teaspoon salt
- 3 cups hot water
Rinse the pork chops under cold running water. Place on a paper towel to drain. Mix together the flour, salt, and pepper. Coat the chops lightly with the flour mixture. In a large skillet heat the oil over medium high heat until hot. Put in the pork chops and let them brown on both sides. They should cook fast enough to brown over medium high heat - about 4 minutes per side - but, you can turn the heat up or down as needed. Remove the cooked chops from the skillet. To make the gravy, drain all but 2 tablespoons of the oil from the skillet and stir in the flour. Mix well and let brown. Stir in the hot water. Return the chops to the pan, reduce the heat, and simmer, covered, for 6 to 8 minutes.
Serves 4 to 6.
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