“The Green Hornet” By Shelia Bowyer
“The Green Hornet” – Taken from the Second Creek Chronicles
Two young girls-full of pride as The Queen of Sheba and The Princess of Possum Hollow, were sitting pretty, riding in high, country style down the winding lanes of a multitude of laid back Southern West Virginia Hills.
It was Sunday afternoon, and time to visit Grandma and Grandpa Brooks, and that visit meant the pleasure of riding in the back of the “Green Hornet”.
Back then, there were five of us, counting Mama and Daddy – and only one seat, so that placed the “Royalty” in the back seat of the family’s 3/4 ton pick-up truck that Daddy had named “The Green Hornet”…..one that was accustomed to running in spurts…stop and start…..sometimes it stopped, and sometimes it started, and we never knew in which order the two would occur.
But, “The Green Hornet” was the ride of the Bowyer family; not one of choice, but one of necessity for it could haul just about anything needed on a farm – bales of hay, chicken feed, pitch forks, shovels, and on Sunday afternoons, it was there waitin’ in front of our farm house, ready to accommodate us for a visit that would whisk a truck load of weary workers away from the multitude of chores begging to be done.
Mama, Daddy, and my younger brother, Billy, got the pleasure of riding up front, but that didn’t bother me and my sis, Linda, for we were rather accustomed to riding in such high country style. We even had two lawn chairs that we situated against the back window, close enough to Mama and Daddy so they could occasionally look back to see if we were still there. They had to make sure we had not become “two sheets” to the wind.
This adventure might have appeared dangerous to others, but we certainly weren’t scared ’cause after all, just who would have the gumption to harm The Queen of Sheba, and The Princess of Possum Hollow?
We even dressed for the occasion, and considered ourselves in royal fashion befitting our self-ordained titles. After all, we had been taught that Sunday rides called for pretty gingham dresses, fancy patent leather shoes, and white gloves with pearl buttons on them, and to complete this grand attire, our hair would be swept up high on our heads to keep it from blowin’ too much in the wind, as we headed down the windy road from Pickaway to the company owned limestone quarry village, appropriately named “Snowflake”.
Of course, to make such a splendid journey, we had to be seated, and we had learned the art of climbing into our “Green Hornet” Chariot while we were dressed in such finery.
The two lawn chairs went in first, and then we tightly grasped our dresses, as we gave a heave-ho jump from the bumper and over the tailgate. The thoughts of the impending grand adventure that we were about to undertake made this transition just a minor inconvenience, especially since the alternative was to stay home on the family farm with all those dad gum chores that were begging to be completed!
Once, we were all seated, Daddy would give “The Green Hornet” the signal to start, and The Queen of Sheba, and The Princess of Possum Hollow, decked in Sunday finery would make yet another journey that would become part of the special memories of the yesterdays of long ago. Days that included special rides in a rather common royal coach.
Sheila Bowyer Kline – UHS Class of 1964
Part of the Second Creek Chronicles, a series about my days on our family farm in Monroe County, West Virginia.
Printed with permission from Shelia Bowyer Kline