SOTBP Excerpt - Why Pop?
When Wilbur arrived at school the next morning some of the other teachers got quiet as he approached. A cross burning at a white family’s home was news and rumors spread quickly. My grandmother was the first to actually speak to him rather than about him. She looked concerned as she asked, “How is Betty today, Wilbur?” “She’s pretty shook up still, and Ed too,” he replied, knowing that was an understatement. “The sheriff didn’t leave until pretty late,” he added knowing that Tom had been with him the whole time and Sam was most surely aware. He went on to add, “Sam, I’m so sorry it disrupted the evening. I hate that it was on the night you announced that you’re with child. I’m so happy for you.” Sam nodded and said, “Don’t worry.” To say that the conversation was awkward is generous. Wilbur was sure Sam suspected that he was the reason his uncle’s home was targeted so he moved to change the subject. “I hope Tom can still throw some with me this afternoon,” he said. Sam replied, “I’m sure he’d like that.”
More concerning was the visit the sheriff made to the school at the end of the day to follow up. Sheriff Littlefield wasn’t one to beat around the bush and flatly asked, “Can you think of any link between your family and the Daniels family?” Wilber wasn’t expecting that kind of directness and stammered a bit before getting out, “No sir.” The sheriff quickly added, “You see, since none of the Daniels work at the plant, I can’t see any link to your aunt or uncle. Now Bobby knows Tiny Daniels a good bit and I know you and Bobby been fishing together.” Wilbur paused for a considerable time and then said, “I do know Tiny. I think he’s related to Treeny and she helped me when I hurt my arm.” “And that’s all you can think of,” the sheriff said before adding, “Right?” Wilbur quickly acknowledged, “Yes sir.” Sheriff Littlefield moved his eyes around the room for a moment and then said, “Alright, sorry to bother you but I might need to talk again.” Wilbur nodded silently.
Wilbur could be Digger again once he hit the ball field, even if it was just a few guys out on a mild Carolina winter afternoon. On this particular evening my grandfather and Wilbur came out with Tobe and Fluff to play a little round robin. Cubby was supposed to join but was late. While the quartet waited, Digger and Fluff had a discussion about the visit to the school earlier by Bobby’s dad. Fluff assured Wilbur by saying, “Don’t worry about Pa, he’s just touching all the bases. We ain’t had much of that around here, and two in one night…” He left his point right there as some shouting came from just up the road. “Y’all just standing round like ya got no sense,” and everyone turned to look at Cubby. “You look bad Cub,” Tobe said as the second baseman ambled up to the group. “Just lost track of the time,” was Cubby’s only response. It was clear to all that he was drunk.
The Cubbage family had a tool store about a mile out of the mill town that was operated independently. The illegal still that his father had was the worst kept secret in town. Jimmy Cubbage never sold any corn whiskey to anyone so he was never bothered by the law, even during Prohibition. Despite that, it was surprising to see anyone in that condition out in public in the daytime. Pop and Fluff told Cubby they thought he should head home but he insisted he could play. “Come on Pop, ‘fore it gets any colder,” he said as he trotted out into the field. Today we’d call their practice “Rotation” and everyone took their turns at bat happily enjoying the friendly camaraderie of the teammates. There was no disruption from some of the others who at times brought a negative pall when the full team was around.
As the sun got lower in the sky, and the group broke up to head home, Wilbur asked Pop if he could throw him some of the knucklers he had wanted to work on. My grandfather had never actually seen that type of action on a ball before. As he told me later, “I knew by the way it acted, any ball that hard to catch would be ‘harder than saddling a flea’ to hit.” Despite assuring Digger that evening that his pitching would be as good as ever, Pop could tell that his mind was elsewhere. As they walked back up the hill towards home Wilbur stopped and said, “Tom, why do some of the guys call you Pop?” Pop smiled and said, “It’s something Cubby and Fluff started back when Sam and I had the baby. When we lost him I guess they didn’t want to stop. That or maybe I just look older. I never thought to ask.” They started walking again and Digger said, “In a few months you’ll have another baby and I’ll feel more comfortable calling you that.”