An Interesting Article
In Which Jefferson Davis Palmer Tells Story Of His Boyhood Days In Warrenton
By JEFF D. PALMER
How would you like to have
been born on Friday, June 13,
1913? And how would you have
like to have been named Jefferson
Davis? Well, whether
this baby liked it or not he was
stuck with It. Beforeyou start
saying "Oh! My; what a shame;
that poor boy; why, he Is bound
to have nothing but bad luck!
Well, I don't know how he did
It but he turned those two socalled
drawbacks around to the
point that they became assets
throughout his life. Idon'tmean
"throughout his life" because
that kinder sounds like he ain't
living now.
Well, do you know where the
old Twitty place is—about a
mile south of Warrenton,
across the road from Mr. Kenneth
Mustian's home, which was
then the home of Mr Elmo H.
Parker. His son, Woodrow, became
one of my best friends.
I understand the old Twitty
place and the Parker place
were sold to Kenneth Mustian,
another friend of mine. Anyhow,
I lived at the Twitty home with
my Daddy, Jefferson Davis
Palmer, Sr., Annie Twitty
Palmer, Mother and sister
Lallah Fitts Palmer, who had
the longest and prettiest hair
I ever saw, and I used to love to
yank it at every opportunity there
were quite a few opportunities.
There are a lot
of things 1 could write about
living in that old home, but
they can't be covered in one
article; except one, the time
Lallah threw sand In the face of
a snake which was coiled under
a tree trunk In the front yard.
There were just two blurry
streaks running into the house.
Father came out and showed me
what a big game hunter he was
and shot that reptile with along
double barrel shot gun from
about fifty yards away. In that
way you see if he had shot him
from too close a range It would
have made the big kill too messy
and also from that distance, if he
missed, he had a head start.
Oh, my Pop was a ureal one> jf
you don't believe it, just ask me.
When I was about seven we
moved into the Mordecal Hall
place now owned by Mrs.
Annie Lamb in "Warrenton which
has quite a history. That is
when the great day came - my
first school day. Lallah and I
went to the Misses Lucy and
Annie Hawkins' school which
was really, to us a popular or
unpopular term, segregated, by
sex. There was a low mound
of red dirt which separated the
girls play ground from the boys.
Well, while at Miss Lucy's
I got my first whipping by the
"mean'' one - Miss Annie. I
also got In my first fist fight.
Let me tell you about those two
Indelible memories.
First, the whipping. Occasionally,
Father would hitch up
the horse to the buggy (we
couldn't afford a surrey) and we
would drive about ten miles to
visit my mother's sister, Aunt
Mary and my Father's brother,
Uncle Howard. They lived In
Sixpound Township, In the old
Horace Palmer home. Aunt
Mary and Uncle Howard had four
boys, Ollie, Russell, Howard,
Jr., and Alston. (As a matter
of Interest my Mother and Aunt
Mary were sisters and my Father
and Uncle Howard were brothers
- so you can see how close
we were or how mixed up we
were). But there Is more, my
mother had two other sisters Carrie
and Harriett. Now Harriett,
after seeing what had happened
to two of her sweet sisters
couldn't stand the thought
of marrying another Palmer so
she had a Fitts. His name was
Will Fltts. She thought she'd
rather have a Fltts than a Palmer.
Anyway, Harriett and Uncle
Will had three children- Sarah,
Annie and Will, Jr. After Uncle
Will r ed from railroading
or maj « got railroaded, he
retired in Warrenton across the
street from Junle DraJte. They
were great people and I loved
them very much. Many of you
know or knew them well. Uncle
Will was one of the greatest
story tellers I ever knew. Although
he always raised a good
garden he seldom went up town
to shoot the bull with other
retired gentry, and there were
quite a few, some of who enjoyed
sitting on the confederate
monument and chatting about the
"good old days." WeU, It seems
Uncle Will was not much of a
church goer. There was in town
though a great religious man Mr.
Ed Rooker. I understand
one day, Mr. Ed asked Uncle
Will wouldn't he like to come to
prayer meeting some Wednesday
night. Uncle Will, who always
knew the right thlngtosay
and In the right tone thanked
Mr. Ed for the invitation and
remarked that he would like to
go to prayer meetings on Wednesday
but that he had to turn
him down because he didn't believe
in running around at night.
Now let me get back to the
whipping given me by Miss
Annie Hawkins - the stern ~ne.
I told Miss Lucy about lOo'clock
one morning that my Mother
wanted me to go with her to
visit Aunt Mary In Slxpound
Township that day. So she said
all right and so off I went to
play on the bales of cotton In
the back of Edmond White's cotton
gin. Several days later Miss
Lucy saw Mother and Inquired
about our trip to see Aunt
Mary. Mother said, "We didn't
go to Sixpound." Miss Lucy
said, "You didn't? Why Jeff
told me you wanted him to go
with you so I let him off from
schooL" WeU, that did It. I
had been caught. When I got
home from school Mother was
waiting for me. She asked me
about it and my tears gave me
away. Anyway she had a branch
which looked about six feet long
and an Inch In diameter and she whalled
me good. Well, Ithought
that was the end. The next day
Miss Lucy said Miss Annie
wanted to see me over at the
"big house" - remember the
big house? I knew what that
meant - the whole world had
fallen In on me. At first she
was very nice, asked me to
have a seat, that is, what was
left of mine after Mother had
gotten through. And then the lecture
started. From what she
told me I might Just as well have
robbed the Citizens Bank and
clubbed Mr. Watson. But oh, no
— It didn't stop there. Miss
Annie, the "mean" one, said,
"Take your pants down." Need
I say more. Only one thing
more, that is, I have never
told another bold lie. Oh, maybe
I have told a»Vw out of politeness
and without harmful Intent.
It so happened I learned my
lesson early, quick, severe and
lasting about lying.
Oh, now about my first fight
at Miss Lucys'. Remember Edward
"Sonny" Grant? I think I
saw In the Warren Record that
he was recently In Warrenton.
Wish I could have seen him.
Anyway, Sonny and I and some
other boys were playing marbles.
Sonny had a sore toe and
every time he would go to
shoot I would "accldently" step
on his sore toe. Well he cautioned
me a couple of times but
I never paid too much attention
to plain ol' cautions. So
the next time he went to shoot
i I sidled up to him In a shy
manner and with caution or no
caution I again stepped on his
sore toe Just as he was getting
ready to shoot. I think he was
fudging a little bit anyway. All
of a sudden I found myself flat
on my back with my nose bleeding.
I started bawling and ran
In to tell Miss Lucy what Sonny
had done to me. Miss Lucy,
being the Chief Judge of the
Hawkins School Supreme Court
called In witnesses. They all
blamed me. Having remembered
about the last lie I told,
this time I admitted that I had
stepped on his sore toe when
he got ready to shoot. So Miss
Lucy stopped my nose from
bleeding, sent me Into the school
house for the rest of the recess
period and Sonny went back to
shooting marbles. (P.S.) I hope
he lost - no, not really).
And then the really great day
came when I had to go to school
at Warrenton HlghSchool. Gosh,
was I scared. I was in the fourth
grade. My teacher was Miss
Daisy Kate Rogers. She was my
life saver because I fell In
love with her right away. I
wan't a good student but I was
about the best all-round
teachers helper in them there
parts. I was the best black
board washer in Warren County,
good window washer, good
trash picker upper. Before going
into school we would stand
in line at the bottom of the
steps, outside the school. I was
always first in line. I always
enjoyed Miss Rogers standing at
the top of the steps on windy
days.
The next few years were
probably about average - some
good - some bad, or not so
bad. My teacher in the fifth
grade was Mrs. Virginia Pearsail.
She was very precise and
absolute in enforcing the rules.
I think I liked her because she
had no foolishness In the class
and I knew exactly where I
stood. I do recall one little episode
or incident and as was
just my luck I almost got caught
again. One day we were to have
a spelling test. We were told the
day before the page In the spelling
book from which the test
-would be given. Well, the pre-vlous
night I found other things
to do except study for the spelling
test. Of course I wouldn't
dare tell Mother that we were
going to have a spelling test.
By that age In life I was learning
fast about what to tell Mother ,
and what not to tell Mother. The
decision making process was
beginning to set in and take hold.
I would be the one to decide
what was better for her to
know and not know. That morning,
before school, I thought I
would act real studious and
zealous and take a quick glance
at the test words. After all, I
had graduated from the most
highly respected privately owned
educational institution In the
area, was In the fifth grade,
was no longer In love with my
fourth grade teacher, so this
little time consuming period of
learning to simply spell a few
words was no sweat.
And then It happened) I opened
the book, took a look at the
spelling page, closed the book
nonchalantly and then all of a
sudden I found myself shaking
as If Sheriff Drake had caught
me stealing apples from the
"Apple Man are Here." CThis
old man used to sell apples
from the back of a truck parked
across the street from where
the police station Is today and
who had a chant singing out
"Apple Man Are Here". ) So
what in the world was I going
to do? Get sick, skip school,
flunk the test, or cheat. It so
happened that at that time we
kept your books, paper, etc. in
an open desk drawer. So it was
rather easy for me to dip my
book out of the drawer, put
it between my legs opened to the
right page and take the chicken
way out - cheat. B seems as
though when one is doing something
he knows is wrong that he
subconclously displays an
obvious sense of guilt. Just
for some unknown reason I had
a feeling that my teacher had
an Idea about what I was doing
and that other kids seemed to
Indicate that they had the same
Idea. This at course made me
nervous and I found myself
wondering about what was
worse - to cheat and have to
live with myself and always keep
It a secret or toflunk, and study
and take It over. So I slipped
my book back Into the desk
drawer and flunked the teat.
NOw, you know what comes next.
You have to tell your mother,
knowing ate would find out anyway.
I told Mother that afternoon
about what I had done and
she was more proud of me than
if I had made an "A" grade.
Result: Another good lesson
learned by a young boy growing
up in a am all woods rial town.
Wen, I didn't do wall at all
In the fifth grade and had to
repeat It. The next year whea
I was In the sixth grade I
think my teacher was Miss
Wagner or Miss Thompson maybe
both at different times.
The two things I remember so
vividly about Miss Wagner were
the length of her clothes - down
to her ankles - and also how
pretty she was. At time I wish
I had been older, she was so
pretty. Miss Thompson had different
qualifications - was very
stern, relentless, believed in
giving lots of home assignments,
also had the silly rule
about being In your seat on time
and keeping your big mouth shut.
She was a great one on giving
history assignments and making
you write theme papers.
Shucks, I hardly knew what
the word "theme" meant - but
under Miss Thompson, I soon
found out. I can't briefly let my
mind reminisce without recalling
at least one amusing
incident. K seems Miss
Thompson usually had ajobfor
everyone, a school room chore
assignment. One of my good
buddies, who in later years became
one of ray best friends,
was named of all things - Peter
"Doolittle" Jones. His parents
must have known what they were
doing because the name certainly
fit the boy. Well, P. D.'s
task was to open the windows
in the mornings. They were the
type of windows that you pushed
out at the bottom and the
top half would open into the
room. Apparently P. D. was
feeling a little irritated about
something that beautiful.spring
school day so he decided to get
his Job over in a hurry. You
know, If you are a little mad
about something and want to
get whatever it is you have to
do over in a hurry you usually
foul It up. So, P. D. was
going to get these darn windows
opened as soon as possible. So
he went right to work. The first
one he pushed on as rough as
he could caused the bottom to
fly open and the top to fly in. So
there stood Peter "Doolittle"
with his head stuck up through
one of the panes of glass In the
top section of the sash. I laughed
so hard its a wonder
I didn't have a hernia. So 4own
he went to the Principal's Office
to have a few scratches covered
with pure iodine. The students
laughed so boisterously that
its a wonder Miss Thompson
didn't suspend the whole class
for the day.
Mrs. Scarborough was my
seventh grade teacher and she
was a real good one. I enjoyed
her classes so much. Of course
I was getting older fourteen),
the school work was getting
harder and the girls seemed
to become more Interesting and
were klnda like magnets to boys.
Come to think of It I also got
punched in the nose in the
seventh grade. Here again, as
usual, I deserved It. Pettis
Terrell and Gladys Haithcock
were sweethearts. One day I
saw her slip Pettis anote which
he read, put in his coal pocket
and hung It in the cloakroom.
I couldn't resist the temptation
of trying to slip that note and
see what it said. Here again
I made another mistake. Of
all people not to seriously fool
around with would be Pettis
Terrell. I slipped the note at
the same time that Pettis came
back into the cloakroom. Well
I slowly got off the floor and
fortunately he was kinder amused
at me and we also became the
very best of friends. I was so
sorry to hear recently that
he was no longer with us.
You know, as 1 recall my boyhood
days in War renton it seems
as though we always had something
to do. Of course, with
Mother running a rooming and
boarding house at the Old Shlloh
Place and trying to make ends
meet ( my father died in 1926
when I was thirteen) I had plenty
to do there, such as replenish
the wood and coral In each room
each day, feed the chickens,
work the garden, cut the grass,
go to school, attend Boy Scout
meetings (Graham Boyd was
scout master), fold Warren Record
papers for mailing (boy,
that Is a story In Itself), Pack
fire pound sugar bags at Penders
store, go swimming, play
at baseball and football, go to
Sunday School and Church, "assist"
Jimmy Mayfield in the
operation of the pool room establishment
and then find time
to help George Robinson put
up new signs advertising
coming movie attractions. You
Me, In this way I could some
how get in free to see Tom
Mix, Hoot Gibson, Buck Jones,
Wm. 8. Hart, Harold Lloyd,
Charlie Chaplin, etc., and the
Pearl Bock serials on Saturday
afternoons ttd by all means go
to the "Jack pot" drawings on
We&teadajra. So yon seel really
didn't hare much time tor
study - too m«iy friends and too
many other things to do. I
remember each morning going
to school I had to pass by Mr.
W. A. Miles' Hardware Store.
As always he was standing out
front twirling the awning cord.
He would always greet me with
a handshake and he had the
strongest grip I ever felt. It
was like a steel vise. Each time
we shook I'd go down on my
knees. You know I used to go
by there every day knowing that
he was going to put me on my
knees but you know the Reason
I did It was because be liked me
and I liked him. We both kinder
got fun out of it.
Then it happened. One Sunday
afternoon In October 1927 when I
was fourteen I was playing with
some other boys ( I recall Paul
Bell, Ben Robinson, Willis Harrison
and others) when something
happened that changed my
life. These boys were all husky,
strapping young fellows. All except
me. I was the smallest
one among them. I was at the
age where the opinion of my
"gang" was the most important
thing in the world. The other
boys were running, jumping,
boxing, but I couldn't excel
in sports. As I watched the boys
my eyes fell on an electrical
pole supporting half a dozen
wires and furnishing electricity
for the operation of the ice
house run by a relative of mine,
J. C. Moore. Those wires
carried death and destruction,
but I didn't think of that, I
suddenly remembered where a
workman had left a pair of
climbing "spikes". An idea
seized me. At least I was light
weight anyway. I would show the
other boys what I could do.
I would strap those spikes
on and shin up the pole. Buckling
them on I started up.
The boys stood at the foot
admiringly. I hung on one leg,
I waved, I made faces at the
boys below. They cheered. I
climbed higher and higher.
So high up now that I wasn't
watching where I was going.
I touched a wire freighted with
death - 6600 bolts! My hands
curled, gripped the wire. It
touched my neck. I couldn't let
loose! Finally my fingers came
free. I thudded to the ground.
Nose and shoulder broken.
The boys who had been laughing
and cheering me a moment
before now ran and told Mr.
Moore who made a desperate
rush to Maria Parham Hospital
in Henderson. I was unconscious
upon arrival. I remained
unconscious for three weeks,
hovering between life and death.
After being In four different
hospitals, Maria Parham in
Henderson, Park View in Rocky
Mount where another friend of
mine, Tom Holt gave me blood
by a blood transfusion so Dr.
Newsome Battle could perform
a skin graft operation by removing
skin from my legs ana
putting It on the scar on my
neck which wouldn't heal. After
going home for a while Dr.
Frank Hunter thought It would be
a good Idea for me to have physical
therapy treatments. So he
and Dr. Battle made arrangements
for me to go to the
Hospital for Ruptured and Crippled
on 42nd Street In New York
City. Dr. Battle was doing some
special study there so I hsH a
friend In him during my two
months stay. Then back at home
in Warrenton again - this time
with about the worst false damn
yankee accent you ever heard.
So after another stay in Warrenton,
Drs. Hunter and Battle
"ganged" up on me again and
sent me to the Union Memorial
In Baltimore. There the world
famous plastic surgeon, Dr.
Davis, opened up my right arm
to see what could be done to
get some use back Into my fingers.
He found that because
all the tendons on the underside
had been burned away
that there was nothing he could
do to restore full or partial use
to my right lower atm. So,
after about two more months I
was back In Warrenton under
the care of Mother, Dr. Hunter
and many friends. One amus
lng thing happened one day when
Dr. Hunter made his dally visit
to change the bandage on my
neck. This time Jim Moore
came with him to see the changing
of the bandage. Dr. Hunter
removed the gauze and Jim
Moore seeing the raw flesh
and blood passed out right as
he made it to the hallway. Dr.
Hunter had to stop his work
and go and revive Jim I got
kinder tickled at that happening.
After about two and ooehalf
years the ne came tor me
to gc back to school. Boys and
girls my age had gone on up
In grades and I had to go back to
class with kids two and three
years younger. I soon found
thtf I had developed an overwhelming
interior complex. At
school I sat In the back row
so the teacher wouldn't call on
me. I wouldn't ask a girl for a
date or dance at first. I hated
walking down the street, sometimes
actually crossing over to
keep from meeting some one I
knew. I finally finished high
school and attended the University
of North Carolina at Chapel
Hill.
After two years at UNC 1
went to Washington, D. C. to
look for work and to try to overcome
an inferiority complex.
When I joined a public speaking
class I dropped into my
. seat paralyzed with fear after
my first speech, which lasted
about 60 seconds. After that
experience I resolved that I
would not let my inferiority
complex lick me, so I set about
the task of licking it and did. I
was fortunate because I personally
studied public speaking
under the most famous teacher
- the late Dale Carnegie. Hater
became one of his public speaking
Instructors and taught
classes for about twenty years
in many cities along the east
coast. This training also helped
me immeasurably in my
position with Department of the
Army in the Pentagon from
which I retired from Federal
Government after about thirty
years of service.
I mentioned at the beginning
of this article that my name Jefferson
Davis - became an
asset for me. This came about
as I took on more responsible
work with the Department of the
Army. My position required me
to do quite a lot of travelling
to various Army installations
throughout the United States.
The word soon got around that
my name was Jefferson Davis
so my business acquaintances
always called me or referred
to me as Jefferson Davis where
ever I went. I would particularly
get a kick out of it - when
I travelled to such places as
New York, Detroit, Chicago,
Philadelphia, Cleveland, Cincinnati,
Etc. When my trips
were arranged the installations
that I had to visit "were notified
in advance. This would, inmany
instances, immediately set off a
roar among my friends at these
offices with such quips asm
"What do you know, Jefferson
Davis Is g^lngtamake another
attack on our left flank," and
then when I would enter the
conference room they would
stand at attention and one would
announce, "Order please, the
President of the Confederacy
has arrived." Something like
that would always get the meeting
off on a relaxed and humorous
tone. The name didn't
attract much attention on the
west coast In places like San
Francisco, Los Angeles, etc. In
places like New Orleans or
Houston, Texas the name would
usually bring a remark like,
"It's always good to have Jefferson
Davis back with us
again." This is what I meant
when I said at the beginning that
it became an asset in my government
career.
This has become much too
long. Of course, when I get off
reminiscing about days in Warrenton
I could take different
subjects and write on and on
such as the teachings of Miss
Mariam Boyd, the best I ever
had, the June German Dances,
gatherings at Boyd Davis' Ball
Room, Cokes at Boyce Drug
Company, BYPU meetings, my
first train trip to Washington,
the time I left, home. H. Henderson
and Billy Lanier episodes,
Dr. Taylor, Bill Rook
and Mr. Ed Gillam, Harry
Brown, the ice man, Jim Smith,
the janitor, football teams and
games, editor of high school
paper, Noonle Stainback, the
time James Polk and P. D. decided
to leave the June German
and go to Florida,
and on and on. Maybe someday
some of that old gang
can get together and have a
reunion and really tell some
tales.
Blgnall, as I write this I
recall your eulogy of President
Kennedy which was published in
the Warren Record on November
29, 1963 in which you
wrota that, "It has been said
that a man is part of all whom
he has known." I am positive
that the people I know and knew
m
In Warrenton during my boyhood
days became a part of me
and my knowing them always
served me well.
Sgt. Crews Graduates
From Academy
FT. BRAGG, N. C. (AHTNC)
—Sergeant John E. Crews, 28,
son of Elbert Crews, Route
2, Warrenton, was graduated
with honors Sept. 4 from the
82nd Airborne Division Noncommissioned
Officer Academy •
at Ft. Bragg, N. C.
Sgt. Crews received four
weeks of training which include) I
Instruction in drill and ceremonies,
physical training,
leadership, map reading and t
weapons familiarization.
Sgt. Crews, a communica
tlons chief in Battery C, 2nd
Battalion, 321st Artillery of the
82nd Airborne Division, entered
the Army in March, 1968, and
was last stationed in Vietnam.
He holds the Army Commendation
Medal.
His wife, Evangeline, lives
In Spring Lake.
Blackmon Completes
Police Training
FT. GORDON, GA. (AHTNC)
—Army Private John E. Black-,
mon, son of Mrs. Eliza Blackmon,
Route 1, Norlitia, completed
advanced military police
training at Ft. Gordon, Ga.,
August 28.
During the eight weeks of
training, Pvt. Blackmon received
specialized Instruction
in the technical skills required
of a military policeman. Some of
the subjects taught are traffic
control, communications ai.i
unarmed defense methods, civil
and military, law, and prisoner-of-war
control.
Pvt. Blackmon entered the
Army In April, 1970, and completed
basic training at Ft.
Bragg.
About 400 hours of labor are
needed to produce an acre of
flue-cured tobacco.
'—