AUTUMN HAYRIDES TO THE COUNTRY
by Brenda Kellow, 2009
Tracing Our Roots http://starlocalmedia.com/opinion/blogs/blog_7/
The moon was full and lit up the night in open areas, while the shadows played tag with the moonbeams. The nights were still cool requiring only a light sweater but hinted of a chill, as the evening grew older. The cool temperatures were welcoming to the couples on the hayride and promised a return to the church nestled in the arms of your sweetie. Mine was always the same wonderful guy, but not the one I married years later.
The First Baptist Church held hayrides three or four times a year as well as other events that provided an excuse for couples to get together. The dinner dance held in the fall and the Valentine’s Day Sweetheart Banquet held in the beautifully decorated basement was a major couples event. Friday night in The Net beckoned couples and those hoping to become a couple. The Net’s home was in the church basement and operated as the Baptists viewed a Christian bar or pub should operate. The drink was soda, malts and food ranging from chips to sweets of every description, always in abundance.
But on this day the anticipation was for the call of the impending hayride and the OK from the sponsor to clamber into the wagon the best way we could. My boyfriend since the second grade always grabbed a place for us and then he helped me onto a soft comfortable spot in the sweet smelling hay-lined trailer.
Only a few minutes pass on the clock before the tractor pulled out onto 15th Street, years before known as Mechanic Street, and headed west to the usual farms of William and Barbara Wells, H. L. Hunt, or the Mr. and Mrs. Roy Bandy's place. The Wells and Hunt farms were west of town and the Bandy’s farm was north of Plano. The earlier two routes led us through downtown and over the old brick street.
Traveling to the Bandy’s was paved over the original red brick making what was then Highway 75, but known as K Avenue in the 21st century. We traveled north past a favorite hangout lovingly known as “The Duchess Restaurant.” Another well-known restaurant on the south end was “Hays Café.” But, the downtown eatery was Donnelley’s Restaurant located on the south side of the main street, 15th Street, on the west side of the natural alley that divides that side of the street. The passengers in the hay wagon viewed the town buildings in an open-air setting rather than on foot or from inside an automobile.
The bonfire was always roaring as we pulled into the farm, screaming for the first wiener roasted and placed between a fresh warm bun with lots of mustard. Chivalry lived during these times in Plano where everyone knew everyone else and where everyone was related to each other. The guys were most often the provider of the roasted wiener and toasted marshmallows just like in primitive times when the man was the hunter.
The girls were always suspicious. They thought the real reason was because the young man was hopeful of a kiss on the way home, hoping his girl would remember that he was a gentleman, providing food and offering protection and safety during the ghost stories told around the warm open fire before claiming a seat in the wagon for the return trip back to the church on this autumn night in October.
Sometimes before the scary tales were told the kids went to the edge of the woods carrying flashlights to search for the orange glow of 'coons [raccoons] eyes hiding in the trees. Sometimes the Bandy's would have a pickup stationed nearby with coon lights mounted on the top of the cab and a spotlight mounted near the outside mirror. The spotlight roamed the treetops in search of the elusive raccoons. We didn't kill any, just screamed with delight at finding them!
Usually, there was a surprise that fed the dark side of the teens such as the time the cow fell in the well and got stuck. It had to be removed with a hastily constructed pulley. Once safely removed, the bloated cow’s tummy had to be poked with a sharp stick that brought squeals and loud giggles from the curious audience.
Finally, with everyone snuggled close together in the light scented hay that filled the wagon, the group was on its way back home. By then the couples were much friendlier. The girls were nestled down in the hay hiding behind the sides to keep the chilly breeze from freezing their delicate fragile bodies. Using the chill as an excuse the boys’ arms quickly wrapped around their shoulders, sometimes even wrapping the girls in their warm coats. Now that surely guaranteed a kiss, however brief and inexperienced by both parties.
Hopefully the full moon and the crisp night, coupled by a full tummy and frightened by those with years of expertise in telling ghost stories, the young guys graduated from holding hands to kissing their dates. Seldom did the events of the evening cause a total wipeout!