Monday, April 06, 2009

Old 78

“When we were younger, we lived on 78.” Ned pointed the direction of the highway, going left out the church doors a quarter mile down the road. “We owned a convenience store.  78 was gravel then, and people would travel between Birmingham and Atlanta.  I remember when Bama played Georgia Tech, good number of folks traveled to see them.”

Going away from Birmingham on 78, you’d run up a hill just past Anniston.  “As far as we were from the hill, people were getting on it going toward Birmingham.”

I’d seen a stone building on 78 near the location he’d pointed earlier.  I’m not sure if that building was the store, but I assumed it was.  The buildings sandstone façade looked old enough.

“One day, young man came down the hill; he was hauling.  78 was gravel, and he lost control.  We were playing outside when he ran off the road.  Across from the store, there were some low-lands that held water.  He ran off into the water; we ran down to him.  I held his head out of the water.  He was bleeding, and we drug him up to the road.”

“You know he just laid there and died.  We tried to make it comfortable for him.”

No comments: