Gigging on the French Broad. Revised
Posted: 18 Jul 2018, 07:59
Fust thing y'all need to know 'bout giggin is a snake's eyes is yeller,
an' a frog's is green."
The first time Filmore went, he was around my age. Gigged a snake and flipped it into the boat. It loosed its tines, did barrel rolls, hissed and twisted until they whacked it in two with oars.
He is a colored man who works for my father. Pop pays him to do things like this or take me on my paper route, stuff he was too busy for.
Pop didn't care much for the colored,but being a Deacon and a Democrat , he thought it'd look good.
Fillmore didn't care. "I do just bout anything Mr. Harry say. "
The bulls come out right about sunset, lay in under the bank, their bulbous bodies are suspended under water so only their eyes can be seen.
Filmore has a tin cup to scoop the eggs. "Po man's caviar"
he says, douses some with hot sauce, and I gag watching him slurp.
You float along real quiet and shine a spot light in their eyes ."It stunts 'em so you can float right up on "em
gig ' em just below the chin".
This was the year of
"Freedom Summer"
when college kids mostly from the north,came to Mississippi to help register coloreds to vote .Pop said he "hoped they didn't bring that shit to North Carolina. "
I watched on TV. Three civil rights workers were murdered by the Klan.
I tried to talk to Fillmore but he said "some things jest best be left alone"
You eat the legs. A full grown bull is ten inches from nose to toes, and can hit a nine foot leap.
The "gig" is a three pronged spear looks like that cartoon where the devil is on one shoulder whispering into an ear, pitchfork
jutting upright, an angel on the other shoulder.
I never went to school with colored kids until this past year. Pop said "play with 'em, be nice,
but never bring one
home after school."
Filmore carries a hawk bill folding knife with
half a match stick between the blade and the case so it can be flicked open like a switch blade.They say he cut another colored man.
We leave just at day break, two burlap sacks of legs.
Mama rolls them in flour and fries them in hot Wesson oil. Pop says they taste like chicken.
The heat makes muscle and sinew contract,legs start moving a little, then jerk violently, almost coming out of the pan;
like a wild thing and free, hung by prongs, writhing, eyes dialated in terror, willing to see its own body beaten and broken rather than be caught
Fust thing y'all need to know 'bout giggin is a snake's eyes is green."
The first time Fillmore went, he was around my age. Gigged a snake and flipped it into the boat. It loosed its tines, did barrel rolls, hissed and twisted until he and his uncle started whacking at it with oars
until they split a seam and capsized.
He is a colored man, a day laborer for my father, and Pop pays him to do things like this or take me on my paper route every Tuesday. Pop didn't care much for the colored,but being a Baptist and a pillar of the community, he thought it'd look good.
I loved Fillmore
Fillmore didn't care. "I do just bout anything Mr. Harry say. "
On this night, I'm 13 and never killed nothing yet.
The bulls come out right about sunset, lay in under the bank, their bulbous bodies are suspended under water so only their eyes can be seen.
You float along real quiet and shine a spot light in their eyes ."It stunts 'em so you can float right up on "em
gig ' em just below the chin".
You eat the legs. A full grown bull measures at ten inches from nose to toes, and can hit a nine foot leap.
The "gig" is a three pronged spear thing, looks like that cartoon where the devil is on one shoulder whispering into an ear
pitchfork jutting upright, and an angel on the other shoulder.
We leave just at day break, two burlap sacks of legs.
Mama rolls them in flour and fries then in hot Wesson oil. Pop says they taste like chicken, but Ill nevet eat one.
The heat makes muscle and sinew contract,legs start moving a little, then jerk violently, almost coming out of the pan, like a reptile hung by prongs, writhing, eyes dialated in terror, willing to see its own body break in two rather than be caught.
an' a frog's is green."
The first time Filmore went, he was around my age. Gigged a snake and flipped it into the boat. It loosed its tines, did barrel rolls, hissed and twisted until they whacked it in two with oars.
He is a colored man who works for my father. Pop pays him to do things like this or take me on my paper route, stuff he was too busy for.
Pop didn't care much for the colored,but being a Deacon and a Democrat , he thought it'd look good.
Fillmore didn't care. "I do just bout anything Mr. Harry say. "
The bulls come out right about sunset, lay in under the bank, their bulbous bodies are suspended under water so only their eyes can be seen.
Filmore has a tin cup to scoop the eggs. "Po man's caviar"
he says, douses some with hot sauce, and I gag watching him slurp.
You float along real quiet and shine a spot light in their eyes ."It stunts 'em so you can float right up on "em
gig ' em just below the chin".
This was the year of
"Freedom Summer"
when college kids mostly from the north,came to Mississippi to help register coloreds to vote .Pop said he "hoped they didn't bring that shit to North Carolina. "
I watched on TV. Three civil rights workers were murdered by the Klan.
I tried to talk to Fillmore but he said "some things jest best be left alone"
You eat the legs. A full grown bull is ten inches from nose to toes, and can hit a nine foot leap.
The "gig" is a three pronged spear looks like that cartoon where the devil is on one shoulder whispering into an ear, pitchfork
jutting upright, an angel on the other shoulder.
I never went to school with colored kids until this past year. Pop said "play with 'em, be nice,
but never bring one
home after school."
Filmore carries a hawk bill folding knife with
half a match stick between the blade and the case so it can be flicked open like a switch blade.They say he cut another colored man.
We leave just at day break, two burlap sacks of legs.
Mama rolls them in flour and fries them in hot Wesson oil. Pop says they taste like chicken.
The heat makes muscle and sinew contract,legs start moving a little, then jerk violently, almost coming out of the pan;
like a wild thing and free, hung by prongs, writhing, eyes dialated in terror, willing to see its own body beaten and broken rather than be caught
Fust thing y'all need to know 'bout giggin is a snake's eyes is green."
The first time Fillmore went, he was around my age. Gigged a snake and flipped it into the boat. It loosed its tines, did barrel rolls, hissed and twisted until he and his uncle started whacking at it with oars
until they split a seam and capsized.
He is a colored man, a day laborer for my father, and Pop pays him to do things like this or take me on my paper route every Tuesday. Pop didn't care much for the colored,but being a Baptist and a pillar of the community, he thought it'd look good.
I loved Fillmore
Fillmore didn't care. "I do just bout anything Mr. Harry say. "
On this night, I'm 13 and never killed nothing yet.
The bulls come out right about sunset, lay in under the bank, their bulbous bodies are suspended under water so only their eyes can be seen.
You float along real quiet and shine a spot light in their eyes ."It stunts 'em so you can float right up on "em
gig ' em just below the chin".
You eat the legs. A full grown bull measures at ten inches from nose to toes, and can hit a nine foot leap.
The "gig" is a three pronged spear thing, looks like that cartoon where the devil is on one shoulder whispering into an ear
pitchfork jutting upright, and an angel on the other shoulder.
We leave just at day break, two burlap sacks of legs.
Mama rolls them in flour and fries then in hot Wesson oil. Pop says they taste like chicken, but Ill nevet eat one.
The heat makes muscle and sinew contract,legs start moving a little, then jerk violently, almost coming out of the pan, like a reptile hung by prongs, writhing, eyes dialated in terror, willing to see its own body break in two rather than be caught.