Conns Creek Baptist Church Cemetery

My ancestor Sarah Moody, who married Robert Cabel Tyson, grew up in Ball Ground, Georgia, although I think she was born in Tunnel Hill, Georgia.  I somehow heard her family was buried at Conns Creek Baptist Church in Bell Ground, so here we are.  On a Fathers Day, Anna was in Texas, in attending her brother Julian's memorial service, my two sons carried me to Two Brothers Barbecue in Ball Ground.  While there we looked up Conns Creek Baptist Church Cemetery.

Also, I knew my first Cousin's wife Jeanie was from Ball Ground, and her maiden name is Milford, so I took pictures of her possible relatives too.

While we were checking out the graves looking for Moody a hound dog came running up to us and dropped a bone, what looked like a human leg bone, at our feet, like a peace offering.  Did you dig up a grave?  We asked the dog?  He wagged his tail.  That was before cellphones, we went back to downtown Ball Ground I called the Cherokee County Sheriff's Department.  I reported it and the dispatcher sent a Deputy out and met us and we showed him the bone.  He took it, thanked us, and probably cursed us under his breath  thinking we were wasting his time.

All these pictures were taken recently on another trip to Ball Ground.

Repent and Fear God!

"FEAR GOD" reminds me once, before we were married double dated with Linda and Joe and went to the north Georgia Mountains.  We stopped at a service station to get gas. Behind and above the station was a big sign that said "MAKE PEACE WITH GOD!"  Joe repeated it and said, I did not know we were at war with Him."

This preacher reminded me of preachers in the park in the 1940s;  the park was not so well scuptured then with garden clubs planted flowers and all.  There were just unkempt bushes with drunks passed out or pissing behind.  And always a preacher on a soap box.  The drunks with their paper sacks have been replaced by yuppies with table clothes and vintage wine.

The preacher above was crying to scream his message above the live entertainment on  state that people came to see.  He was making an asshole out himself.  I said something critical about him either on my blog or facebook and his congregation got a hold of it and send me a barrage of critical mail.    Oh well, like the preacher probably feels, negative attention is better than no attention at all. 

Bell Gang Reunion 2007

The late Arnold Guest

Dickie.  Dickie is few years older than me.  We lived abourt four door apart in the Clay Homes.  His brother Eddie and I had birthdays almost the same day.  Our families would go Sweet Water Creek and have a birthday party picnic.  Once, at about the age 4 or 5, I was wading in the creek at where a bridge was, and I stepped off into where the bridge never was, and undercurrent grabbed me and carried me deeper down.  My daddy, watching from the bridge and Dickie jumped in and pulled me out, thus saving my life.  I thank Dickie every time I see him.  Also, when they bullozed the Clay Homes he would come every day at his lunch hour to watch.  He hated to see his past plowed up.

Horace

Jackie

Jennings

Larry

Neal, who ran the Bell Reunions.  When I was born he and his family lived next door, same house, it was a duplex.

Charles - we were in the Boy Scouts togeher

As a kid he picked on me at the swimming pool.  Once he picked on my short-fused-temper friend Frankie and Frankie jumped back on it.  The went behind the pool to settle it and Frankie whipped his ass.  I thought to myself, I have whipped Frankie several times playing around, and knew he was no contest, so why am I letting Vernon pick on me when I know I can whip him.  Then, after than I more or less paraded in front of Vernon trying to get him to pick on me, I was going to pick back.  But he turned his head each time.    I think he figured out why I was suddenly so bold.  Then at these Bell Reunions, the first one I attended in 2006 I told Vernon that I knew he would be there, and I was wondering if we were going to continue our fight.  He said, "Lord, I hope not!"

The Wallace Brothers

Good Old Boys

The Good Old Boys and Girl (GOBAG) met every Tuesday at the Horace Orr Post American Legion for beer and fellowship with friends we knew since childhood, needless to say we are 90% Marietta Natives. 

I don’t think they do it anymore, or I don’t.

This is Mickey.  Once on a Friday afternoon at Atherton’s Drug Store we were sitting at a booth.  Mickey told me had a date and didn’t have any money.  He asked for a few bucks, promising he will pay it back.  I leant him my last two dollars.

Later that night while cruising around Marietta we went to Burger Ranch.  They were one of the few that sesame  hamburger buns.   I was broke so I didn’t order anything, I sat down with my friend Larry.  Mickey came in, and ordered a hamburger, price $2 and with his delicious looking burger sat down with us.  He told us how his date went and then said, “I don’t know why I ordered this, I’m not even hungry”. And shoved it to Larry and said, “You eat it.”

Larry said he wasn’t hungry either.

Mickey said he was going to throw it away if Larry didn’t take it.

I paid for that burger.

I wasn’t even considered for the burger, which I paid for.

Every time I see Mickey my mind reminds me of that night.

Yes, I hold grudges forever.

Jackie and the late Don Rhymer

Me

Robert, 1st grade on friend.  Ex Cobb County Cop

The late Joel Jackson and Harry

Biltmore House at Christmas

Nothing says Christmas better than the material stuff of filthy rich all decorated up.  Unfortunately, taking pictures inside at all the fine decorations is forbidden, buy you a ticket!