Comments on: THE GREAT SPIDER HUNT http://www.heartofthe.com/writer/the-great-spider-hunt/ Just another WordPress weblog Fri, 10 Feb 2012 23:01:44 +0000 http://wordpress.org/?v=2.5.1 By: Anonymous http://www.heartofthe.com/writer/the-great-spider-hunt/#comment-427 Anonymous Fri, 25 Jul 2008 19:11:39 +0000 http://www.heartofthe.com/writer/?p=57#comment-427 Chaz, I have cousins who live in rural Virginia who have an outhouse, so I have personal experiences with them. And I ran into quite a few during our recent trip to Africa. I think a person would have to know you—your adventurous spirit, your enthusiasm, your ability to think outside of the box—to even imagine this. But knowing you as I do…. J Chaz,
I have cousins who live in rural Virginia who have an outhouse, so I have personal experiences with them. And I ran into quite a few during our recent trip to Africa.
I think a person would have to know you—your adventurous spirit, your enthusiasm, your ability to think outside of the box—to even imagine this. But knowing you as I do…. J

]]> By: Anonymous http://www.heartofthe.com/writer/the-great-spider-hunt/#comment-405 Anonymous Wed, 16 Jul 2008 03:28:58 +0000 http://www.heartofthe.com/writer/?p=57#comment-405 Dad, I really enjoyed the story of the spider hunt...I think that the apple doesn't fall far from the tree....as I recall a few scrapes in my childhood and that of my siblings that hearken to a previous generation...and wonder why the father figure in my life...(hint-hint)didn't seem so patient in our misadventures as one would expect from a former rascal...if you get my drift...dad...hmmmmmm...is that a spider I see crawling on the computer? Love ya! Your "perfect" daughter! Dad,
I really enjoyed the story of the spider hunt…I think that the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree….as I recall a few scrapes in my childhood and that of my siblings that hearken to a previous generation…and wonder why the father figure in my life…(hint-hint)didn’t seem so patient in our misadventures as one would expect from a former rascal…if you get my drift…dad…hmmmmmm…is that a spider I see crawling on the computer?
Love ya!
Your “perfect” daughter!

]]> By: Anonymous http://www.heartofthe.com/writer/the-great-spider-hunt/#comment-389 Anonymous Sun, 06 Jul 2008 03:44:57 +0000 http://www.heartofthe.com/writer/?p=57#comment-389 Love the story!! Keep em comin'! July 5, 2008 7:58 PM Love the story!! Keep em comin’!

July 5, 2008 7:58 PM

]]> By: Anonymous http://www.heartofthe.com/writer/the-great-spider-hunt/#comment-388 Anonymous Sun, 06 Jul 2008 03:30:18 +0000 http://www.heartofthe.com/writer/?p=57#comment-388 Great story, now here's a true one... The killing of Chief It started out so innocently and ended up deadly serious. Old Mrs. Petigo had a boyfriend who called himself Chief and was probably 40 years her junior. To say that Chief had a drinking problem would be a gross understatement. In fact, I can only remember seeing him sober one time in my life. The evening in question, George, my best friend and neighbor, and I were walking on E Street, getting ready to go down 67th to visit some friends when we encountered Chief coming up the hill. He was carrying the ever-present brown bag with a bottle sticking out the open end and very drunk as evidenced by his staggering from one side of the road to the other. Chief motioned us to come closer; he had something he wanted to show us. This was an old trick of his for as soon as we would get within range, he would reach out and grab one of us. The object of this little game was to twist out of his grasp. Well, we played his little game and then he invited us up to his house. He was acting very mysterious at this point. We all went into Mrs. Petigo’s house and back into the kitchen where he took the bottle out of the bag and placed it on the table. It was a cheap bottle of wine; Chief was a full-blown wino at this time. He offered us a drink and we just looked at each other. Who wanted to put their lips on a filthy bottle that Chief had been nursing all afternoon? He got insulted that we did not want to drink with him, and called us a few names. He said something about how he was going to pour the bottle down our throats if he caught us. He lunged at George, missed and slipped to the floor. There was a large metal kitchen table in the center of the room and George and I kept it between the now raging Chief and us. He would head around first one side then feint to the other side. Soon, we were running around the table with Chief in hot pursuit. We started to taunt him and this made him furious and he doubled his efforts when suddenly, without warning, he slipped and fell headlong against the wall, his head hitting the large windowsill on the way down. He crumpled like a rag doll and we laughed at his mishap. We shut up as we watched in horror as a large pool of blood rapidly spread on the dirty linoleum floor. He just lay there, not moving while the pool grew larger; it was dark red and smelled like death. Chief was lying on his side with his face to the wall. I pulled on his shoulder and he rolled partially onto his back. His eyes were open slightly, he was not breathing and some kind of fluid was seeping from his mouth. There was a large, deep gash over his eye and it was still oozing blood. There was no doubt about it, Chief was deader than a doornail; we were in deep trouble. George and I looked at each other and flew out the back door. Lucky for us that Mrs. Petigo was not home at the time. We went to my front yard and talked it over. We knew that we were not responsible for Chief’s death, but how could we prove it? We hashed over all the options and finally decided to say nothing. Dead is dead and we could not bring him back no matter what we said. We went to school the next day as usual and came home fully expecting to hear the awful news, but nothing. Next day, same thing, not a word. We were not dumb enough to ask any questions, so we just kept silent and waited. About this time I was reading a story written by Edgar Allan Poe titled “The Tale of the Tell-Tale Heart”. It was about a man who had killed another man, cut him up, and buried him under the floorboards in his house. His conscience plagued him so much that he thought he heard the dead man’s heart beating. When questioned by the police, the heart was so loud that he just knew the officers could hear it and he confessed and pulled up the floor to reveal the body. I was beginning to feel like the man in the story. The third day after the death, George and I were walking home from Junior High when we saw a somewhat familiar figure staggering toward us. We could not believe our own eyes, it was Chief. He was carrying the now familiar brown paper bag and looked the same as when we had seen him last except for the fact that he had a huge red-stained bandage wrapped around his head. We exchanged greetings, watching his reaction very closely. George asked boldly about the bandage, Chief said he had slipped and that Mrs. Petigo had come home, found him and called a cab to take him to the hospital. Chief never mentioned our little scuffle in the kitchen and we never brought it up again. Looking back, we should have told my parents immediately because he could have bled to death, and we really would have been guilty of murder. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it… Chef Jeff Great story, now here’s a true one…

The killing of Chief

It started out so innocently and ended up deadly serious.

Old Mrs. Petigo had a boyfriend who called himself Chief and was probably 40 years her junior. To say that Chief had a drinking problem would be a gross understatement. In fact, I can only remember seeing him sober one time in my life.

The evening in question, George, my best friend and neighbor, and I were walking on E Street, getting ready to go down 67th to visit some friends when we encountered Chief coming up the hill. He was carrying the ever-present brown bag with a bottle sticking out the open end and very drunk as evidenced by his staggering from one side of the road to the other.

Chief motioned us to come closer; he had something he wanted to show us. This was an old trick of his for as soon as we would get within range, he would reach out and grab one of us. The object of this little game was to twist out of his grasp. Well, we played his little game and then he invited us up to his house. He was acting very mysterious at this point.

We all went into Mrs. Petigo’s house and back into the kitchen where he took the bottle out of the bag and placed it on the table. It was a cheap bottle of wine; Chief was a full-blown wino at this time. He offered us a drink and we just looked at each other. Who wanted to put their lips on a filthy bottle that Chief had been nursing all afternoon?

He got insulted that we did not want to drink with him, and called us a few names. He said something about how he was going to pour the bottle down our throats if he caught us.

He lunged at George, missed and slipped to the floor. There was a large metal kitchen table in the center of the room and George and I kept it between the now raging Chief and us. He would head around first one side then feint to the other side. Soon, we were running around the table with Chief in hot pursuit.

We started to taunt him and this made him furious and he doubled his efforts when suddenly, without warning, he slipped and fell headlong against the wall, his head hitting the large windowsill on the way down. He crumpled like a rag doll and we laughed at his mishap. We shut up as we watched in horror as a large pool of blood rapidly spread on the dirty linoleum floor. He just lay there, not moving while the pool grew larger; it was dark red and smelled like death.

Chief was lying on his side with his face to the wall. I pulled on his shoulder and he rolled partially onto his back. His eyes were open slightly, he was not breathing and some kind of fluid was seeping from his mouth. There was a large, deep gash over his eye and it was still oozing blood. There was no doubt about it, Chief was deader than a doornail; we were in deep trouble.

George and I looked at each other and flew out the back door. Lucky for us that Mrs. Petigo was not home at the time. We went to my front yard and talked it over. We knew that we were not responsible for Chief’s death, but how could we prove it? We hashed over all the options and finally decided to say nothing. Dead is dead and we could not bring him back no matter what we said.

We went to school the next day as usual and came home fully expecting to hear the awful news, but nothing. Next day, same thing, not a word. We were not dumb enough to ask any questions, so we just kept silent and waited.

About this time I was reading a story written by Edgar Allan Poe titled “The Tale of the Tell-Tale Heart”. It was about a man who had killed another man, cut him up, and buried him under the floorboards in his house. His conscience plagued him so much that he thought he heard the dead man’s heart beating. When questioned by the police, the heart was so loud that he just knew the officers could hear it and he confessed and pulled up the floor to reveal the body. I was beginning to feel like the man in the story.

The third day after the death, George and I were walking home from Junior High when we saw a somewhat familiar figure staggering toward us. We could not believe our own eyes, it was Chief. He was carrying the now familiar brown paper bag and looked the same as when we had seen him last except for the fact that he had a huge red-stained bandage wrapped around his head.

We exchanged greetings, watching his reaction very closely. George asked boldly about the bandage, Chief said he had slipped and that Mrs. Petigo had come home, found him and called a cab to take him to the hospital. Chief never mentioned our little scuffle in the kitchen and we never brought it up again. Looking back, we should have told my parents immediately because he could have bled to death, and we really would have been guilty of murder.

That’s my story and I’m sticking to it…

Chef Jeff

]]> By: Anonymous http://www.heartofthe.com/writer/the-great-spider-hunt/#comment-387 Anonymous Sat, 05 Jul 2008 15:02:39 +0000 http://www.heartofthe.com/writer/?p=57#comment-387 Anonymous said... Chaz, Man, do you ever get the old memory juices flowing. Some of the escapades I was involved in? I remember the time I put wings on my new Radio Flyer wagon and rode it off the barn roof thinking that it would fly. It didn't, and my "new" Radio Flyer was never the same after that. Or the time I tied a long piece of rope to the bumper of the neighbor ladie's car and the other end of the rope to my sled. She didn't know I was there until her car hit about thirty five miles an hour. THAT WAS SOME RIDE! I still have scars from some of my escapades. This is the first time I have ever shared these tales for fear my boys would fpllow suit. Thanks for allowing an old kid the chance to remember. The Flier July 5, 2008 10:59 AM Anonymous said…
Chaz,
Man, do you ever get the old memory juices flowing.
Some of the escapades I was involved in?
I remember the time I put wings on my new Radio Flyer wagon and rode it off the barn roof thinking that it would fly. It didn’t, and my “new” Radio Flyer was never the same after that.
Or the time I tied a long piece of rope to the bumper of the neighbor ladie’s car and the other end of the rope to my sled. She didn’t know I was there until her car hit about thirty five miles an hour. THAT WAS SOME RIDE!
I still have scars from some of my escapades.
This is the first time I have ever shared these tales for fear my boys would fpllow suit.
Thanks for allowing an old kid the chance to remember.
The Flier

July 5, 2008 10:59 AM

]]> By: ctowne http://www.heartofthe.com/writer/the-great-spider-hunt/#comment-386 ctowne Sat, 05 Jul 2008 04:43:42 +0000 http://www.heartofthe.com/writer/?p=57#comment-386 Dear, dear fang, Could it possibly be? My goodness, I believe I have found my long lost twin brother. How did you get out of the bag? I thought I had tied the mouth shut real tight before I threw you into the river. Well, let's let bygones be bygones shall we? Who adopted you? Please don't call because I am always gone. Chaz AKA The smart good looking one July 5, 2008 12:37 AM Dear, dear fang,
Could it possibly be? My goodness, I believe I have found my long lost twin brother. How did you get out of the bag? I thought I had tied the mouth shut real tight before I threw you into the river. Well, let’s let bygones be bygones shall we? Who adopted you?
Please don’t call because I am always gone.
Chaz AKA The smart good looking one

July 5, 2008 12:37 AM

]]> By: Anonymous http://www.heartofthe.com/writer/the-great-spider-hunt/#comment-385 Anonymous Sat, 05 Jul 2008 04:27:47 +0000 http://www.heartofthe.com/writer/?p=57#comment-385 Chaz, I gave my dad a twitch similar to what you describe and he still has it but it is only pronounced when he sees me coming and is gone when I leave. Puzzling that. I was one of the few kids that could give a twitch to a father just by playing with his son for a couple days. I was sort of the typhoid mary of twitches. Have you noticed how today's fathers don't have twitches? I think it must have been something... well, sort of a gift to we few and unique to our generation. Say, I bet we could teach the gift of twitch giving to , to...? Who the heck would we teach it to? Well, there goes another good idea down the toilet. Fang July 5, 2008 12:25 AM Chaz,
I gave my dad a twitch similar to what you describe and he still has it but it is only pronounced when he sees me coming and is gone when I leave. Puzzling that.
I was one of the few kids that could give a twitch to a father just by playing with his son for a couple days.
I was sort of the typhoid mary of twitches.
Have you noticed how today’s fathers don’t have twitches? I think it must have been something… well, sort of a gift to we few and unique to our generation. Say, I bet we could teach the gift of twitch giving to , to…? Who the heck would we teach it to? Well, there goes another good idea down the toilet.
Fang

July 5, 2008 12:25 AM

]]> By: Anonymous http://www.heartofthe.com/writer/the-great-spider-hunt/#comment-382 Anonymous Sat, 05 Jul 2008 03:42:55 +0000 http://www.heartofthe.com/writer/?p=57#comment-382 Gump said... Hi Chaz, Good thing that wasn't one of those double decker out houses like you use to build - ha, ha. Remind me not to ask you for plumbing assistance! Hope things are well. Gump - AKA. Forrest.... July 4, 2008 10:09 PM Gump said…
Hi Chaz,

Good thing that wasn’t one of those double decker out houses like you use to build - ha, ha. Remind me not to ask you for plumbing assistance!

Hope things are well.

Gump - AKA. Forrest….

July 4, 2008 10:09 PM

]]> By: Anonymous http://www.heartofthe.com/writer/the-great-spider-hunt/#comment-381 Anonymous Fri, 04 Jul 2008 20:08:10 +0000 http://www.heartofthe.com/writer/?p=57#comment-381 Chaz, My mother was like Dootsie Bobo's mother, if she saw a spider she would absolutely go bonkers. I can remember when I was about four or five when she saw what she called a, "babana spider" in our house. She threatened to move out if daddy didn't evict the deadly "banana spider." He did his best but to my knowledge he never did catch that spider but to make peace he assured mama that he had killed it. Years later after mama went to her rest daddy told us that he had gone out in the garden and caught a spider and killed it and that is what he showed to mama as proof of the poor spider's demise. He also told us that was the only time he had ever lied to her and knowing Pops as I do I am inclined to believe him. No Arachniphobia here, Margy July 4, 2008 4:04 PM Chaz,
My mother was like Dootsie Bobo’s mother, if she saw a spider she would absolutely go bonkers. I can remember when I was about four or five when she saw what she called a, “babana spider” in our house.
She threatened to move out if daddy didn’t evict the deadly “banana spider.” He did his best but to my knowledge he never did catch that spider but to make peace he assured mama that he had killed it.
Years later after mama went to her rest daddy told us that he had gone out in the garden and caught a spider and killed it and that is what he showed to mama as proof of the poor spider’s demise. He also told us that was the only time he had ever lied to her and knowing Pops as I do I am inclined to believe him.
No Arachniphobia here,
Margy

July 4, 2008 4:04 PM

]]> By: Shaun http://www.heartofthe.com/writer/the-great-spider-hunt/#comment-380 Shaun Thu, 03 Jul 2008 22:02:40 +0000 http://www.heartofthe.com/writer/?p=57#comment-380 What a great story! I feel like I just watched "Stand by Me." What a great story! I feel like I just watched “Stand by Me.”

]]>