I was hard at work at the signmaker's shop on Edgefield Street when the incident occurred. The big buck I had painted on the banner only needed a few small touches for completion and it would be perfect. The customer, an exhibitor in a local trade show, would be picking up the banner at noon. I was quite proud of my work on the pictorial. As a frustrated artist I lived for those projects which showed my skill with a brush. Even through the steam of my breath the deer look great! It was a cold morning and I had little heat in the sign shop. Although I coated my hands with udder balm my hands still cracked in the cold dry air. The udder balm sometimes made my coffee mug hard to hold on to but I managed most of the time. But this one with “KBHR The Voice of the last Frontier” on it was my last surviving mug. Maybe I should stop drinking coffee I thought...nah!. A short burst from a police siren brought me back to the reality of the moment.
I walked into my office almost stumbling over the small electric heater inside the door. Actually, the office was the only warm spot in the building during the winter. The cement block walls offered little insulation. Through the dirty window, I don’t have a janitorial service, I saw the flashing light of a green and white. Greenwood, South Carolina, had green and white police cars. After all,the city fathers called it “The Emerald City”.
The officer was just getting out of his police car and about to address the lawbreaker. I recognized the would be
criminal immediately. It was the General. I did not know his name. I don’t think I ever heard it. He was just known as the General. You would see him all over town, from Connie Maxwell Children's Home to Kinard’s Animal Hospital. A distance of several miles. His vehicle was an old John Deere lawnmower. He rode it everywhere. I don’t think it even had a blade on it. One of Greenwood’s finest was about to arrest him. The policeman was Malcom Quatlebaum. He was a sergeant now. Malcom had played right tackle on the
Greenwood Emeralds football team the year they won the State Championship. When he graduated from high school they had needed big guys on the police force and Mal fit right in. That was over twenty-five years ago when he joined the force. The General climbed off his machine and stretched to his full height which was about six inches shorter than his height in his youth. The years had left him stooped. He didn't weigh very much either. The stiff breeze wrapped his trousers around his spindly legs. He had his hands stuck down into the pockets of his green U.S. Army uniform coat. It was from the days when the recruiting slogan was: “You’ll look keen in Army green!”. Atop the general's head was what we called the flying saucer hat. The visored cap was pulled low over his eyes. He had a thin almost gaunt face with white stubble. The General was standing on unsteady legs and slightly weaving. His instability was not due to the cold or the ninety-four years of walking this earth. No, his instability was due to alcohol. Few words were spoken as Sergeant Quatlebaum ushered the General into the back of
the police cruiser. The incident was not without onlookers though. I witnessed the incident which I believe was the first arrest for drunk driving a lawnmower in the City of Greenwood. The guys next door were watching too. The building next door was used as rehearsal space by a local band. They were good people although they might have looked a little rough according to my momma. I could hear them practicing Tuesday and Wednesday. On Thursday they would load up their van and equipment trailer and be on the road for a few days. They played in SC, NC, and GA. There were five or six of them and there were at least three different bands. Some played in each or all of the bands. There was a beach music band, a jazz band and a country music band. I had painted a banner for the Fabulous Expressions, the beach music band, and wanted to paint one for the other bands as well...but that never happened. Those guys had witnessed the arrest of the General as well. In a few minutes I saw the band’s van and trailer out front. They were loading the General's lawnmower into their trailer. The band members carried the lawnmower home for the General. And who says long-haired hippy types aren't good people!
It had been an interesting morning. And a good one for me. Don’t know about the General. Maybe he was a danger to himself and others driving in that condition. A good thing was he couldn’t lose his driver's license or his vehicle. My customer came in for the deer banner and was overjoyed. I was happy too when he paid in cash. He’s thinking about a sandblasted redwood sign for the front of his business and asked me to do the preliminary drawings. The guys next door were back from delivering the lawnmower and “Under the Boardwalk” echoed through the shop.
Yep, it was gonna be a good day!
