The Town Folk Chapter 3 During the Civil War, Missouri known as a border state was hard hit by neighbor against neighbor, otherwise known as bushwhacker fighting. In April of 1861 a crowd of citizens raised a rebel flag on the courthouse lawn in Warsaw, Missouri on the Osage River. Two months later, the State of Missouri would join the conflict on the side of the Union. After the war, the fighting continued throughout the state and throughout the 1800’s and early 1900’s, outlaws, bushwhackers, and bald knobbers, would use the hills, caves, and woodlands to hide out from posses chasing them after robbing a bank, stagecoach, train or even murder. Joram Perry’s pa and uncle both fought in the Civil War. His pa fought for the Confederates and his uncle for the Union. The war created a bitter rift between the brothers and after the war the Perry clan moved to Chicago, Illinois except for his pa, who was the only one who stayed behind; never talking to any of his family again. Joram was a good woodsman and foresaw the waning of the importance of railroads became a tie-hacker and supplier of wood for all types of applications. Timber was rich in supply in the Ozarks and tie hacking was a major source of income for many farmers and their families, especially during the winter months. In the spring, when the Osage Rivers were swollen with rainwater, the ties were dumped into the water, lashed together into rafts, and floated down the river to the railhead. Tie rafting was very dangerous. The rafts frequently were made up of literally thousands of ties and could stretch for miles down a river or stream. With the profits he made from the tie-hacking business Joram started a turkey farm, the first one in these parts. He married Andrea Krauss, a big-boned woman of German descent. Tragically, Andrea died during the birth of their child. Jimmy Perry was born right there in the family cabin weighing a whopping thirteen pounds-eight ounces and his size is likely what killed his mother. Joram never told him that, he never wanted to burden his son with such information. Somewhat quiet and reserved, Jimmy’s a hard worker and a good solid man. Ever since he could remember, people were calling him Big Jimmy and because of his size, many thought that he was actually much older than he was. He was rather bright for his age, and due to expectations, he strove to act mature beyond his years. Big Jimmy was a lot like a big dog; he was an extremely gentle, polite man. He was immensely strong, and secure in his strength, he never felt the need to show off. Jimmy worked for his pa, and such work made the big man even stronger than he would have been normally. He drove around in his 1930 Ford closed cab pick-up truck and his prized possessions are his fishing poles, guns, and bass fiddle. He loved to go fishing and hunting, but enjoyed the bass fiddle the most. His pa brought one home one Saturday afternoon; he bought it for $75.00 at a yard sale in Jefferson City. It was a 1934 Kay double bass fiddle and Big Jimmy’s pa had had never seen an instrument as big as this, so he thought it would be perfect for his big boy. Big Jimmy took to it quickly, when he wasn’t working, fishing or hunting, he’d play that big fiddle it every chance he could. When Jimmy was a boy, an incident occurred that he would never forget. He and his pa, decided to go possum hunting. They gathered up their guns, a lantern, and took off through the woods, crossing Highway 5 about halfway between Lebanon and the old location of the town of Linn Creek; they wanted to lie in their favorite hunting spot. Their hunt was successful and they were headed back home; his pa was carrying a half dozen possums over his shoulder and Jimmy carrying the guns. They had just crossed Highway 5 and had gone about fifty yards from the highway when they saw a package of some sort. The package was wrapped in newspapers from what appeared to be from the Kirksville News and the Kansas City Star newspaper, and was tied with binder twine. Joram studied the package for a moment and told Jimmy; Jimmy, pick it up and cut the twine with yer pocket knife, well see what it is. Jimmy obliged taken his knife out from his pocket and cut away at the twine with the enthusiasm of a 14 year old anxious to find the answer to a great unsolved mystery. In the process, the package slipped and fell open on the ground and an arm severed at the shoulder and gleaming whitely in the eerie glow of the lantern light, lay in the bloody newspapers. Joram stared at it for a moment gave it a kick and yelled; Jimmy, Lets get outta here! They both took off in a run and the next day Joram reported it to the county sheriff. In 1941, Big Jimmy was drafted and stationed on The USS Mississippi, headed for the Pacific islands. The USS Mississippi supported landings during the island hopping campaigns. He was assigned on patrol and saw many a battle. Though he was a quiet and gentle man, Big Jimmy had a quiet dark side to him. He kind of enjoyed killing the Japanese. It reminded him of hunting, except for the fact that the prey he’s hunting, is also hunting him, exciting to a hillbilly such as him. He was gung ho, and had killed many Japanese soldiers while helping save many American soldiers lives. On Peleliu Island, Jimmy and several men were separated and pushed deeper into the island, running out of ammo. All but a couple of the men were not wounded and they carried or dragged all of the wounded men one-by-one, escaping enemy fire. They camped and lived in the islands jungle for weeks before they were eventually rescued. He was a war hero with medals and honors. He settled down back home at the family farm after the war on Turkey Ridge. Maria Ricci was a beautiful girl, her grandfather was an Italian immigrant and his blood ran strong in her veins. She stood a full five foot two inches and weighed in at one hundred and five pounds. If you were a male and had one ounce of red blood running through your veins, she would turn your head. She could do it without speaking a word; and when she spoke hearts melted. She didn’t have an accent, at least not in these parts. To a stranger from the north she sounded like a southern-fried hillbilly who was indeed beautiful. She knew exactly what kind of effect she had on men and used it without reservation. She dressed to accentuate her natural gifts and walked with a swing. Her raven black hair framed her face that was dark skinned, with green eyes that shone intensely, and accentuating a bright, beautiful smile. She also had a temper, and if you ever saw it, you’d swear she was even more beautiful when she was mad. Hot little Maria positively smoked when she was angry. Maria’s Grandpa, had bought 160 acres of land west of the Camden County during the Homestead Act back in 1854, and settled in to clear the land and farm it. After he died, Marias pa did not take to farming and he sold the 160 acres and bought a hotel. Her ma was a beautiful woman of Belgium descent. The hotel was located on the square in downtown Camdenton, Missouri next door to a small eatery called the Happy Snappy Café. He had chosen this town and location due to the new man-made lake and the tourism that it would soon bring. The Great Osage River Project at the time was recognized as one of the greatest feats of engineering and construction. Site work began on August 6, 1929. Four months after construction began came the stock market crash followed by many years of the Great Depression. News spread quickly and men from all-round the nation began pouring into the area. They came by foot, on horseback, floating down the river, piled high in trucks, and a few in automobiles. The Osage and Niangua Rivers was impounded by the dam to form a Lake. The dam was finished in 1931. The area would soon have electricity, as well as St. Louis, Missouri. Over ninety three square miles in area, one hundred twenty five miles in length, it has one thousand three hundred seventy five miles of shoreline– more shoreline than the state of California. By 1931, the construction of the Dam impounded the rivers and turned most folk who were small time farmers, tie-hackers, hunters and fishermen life’s upside down losing their farms and lively hoods. The county seat of Camden County, Linn Creek was flooded, new towns and new lives had to be started. Camdenton became the new county seat of Camden County and The Lake of the Ozarks was born. Maria worked in the hotel from the age of twelve until the age of sixteen, cleaning rooms and doing odd jobs. She tentatively took her first steps into independence by taking a job at The Happy Snappy Café next door after her seventeenth birthday. Her looks and charm helped her to make very good money, and she enjoyed the attention she got. She was an excellent waitress and within a year she had got her own place and no longer lived at the hotel. Big Jimmy had harbored a secret love for Maria as long as he could remember. Their families had been friends for years, and young Maria had stolen Jimmy’s heart when he was a mere eight years old. He has been carrying a torch for her ever since, but he felt like he was nothing more than a big dumb ox around her. She was always very nice to him, but her delicateness made him feel oafish and unqualified for her affections. Thus, he never shared his feelings to her. Mary Sue Walker was born in Zebra, Missouri and her parents have been calling her Lil’ Sue ever since that day. She was a tiny boned girl had long, dishwater blonde hair, and possessed a sweet disposition that shone thru almost any occasion. Five foot four but lithe the room brightened considerably when she entered it. Her pa was a farmer and a fisherman and came from an English background who took to being a river man. He loved the river; the water, the fresh air, the fish. He also enjoyed working the land; he was up before sunrise and didn’t stop until well after sundown. He was also known as one of the best fishermen in these parts. He knew the lake and the rivers around the area as well as any man and better than most. Her ma was known as one of the best cooks in town. She had won several awards for her homemade recipes at several of the county fairs. Sue’s ma passed these cooking skills to her. She enjoyed school as a young girl learning as much as she could about the world. She had dreams of leaving the small town and move to a big city, like Kansas City or St. Louis, maybe even Chicago. However, she didn’t want to live too far away from home but she did not want to live in Camdenton the rest her life either. She started working at The Skunk, a small bar and grill just south of town, working the day shift. Money was tight for her parents and she helped them out as much as she could. She was good at saving her wages and tips which allowed her to rent a charming little stone cabin close to town and buy a 1942 Chevy automobile. She met Handsome Jack Burnett during a hoedown at the Ha Ha Tonka Mill one Saturday night and took to his charms quickly. He was a tall fellow, who worked as a gas jockey at a small gasoline station located on the square in town and was a mechanic want-to-be. But whiskey was his favorite pastime, he called it his hobby. His family were cotton pickers who moved up here from Amarillo, Texas. In the middle of 1930s the southern plains were devastated by drought, wind erosion, and great dust storms. Some of the storms rolled far eastward, darkening skies all the way to the Gulf and Atlantic coasts. The areas most severely affected were western Texas, eastern New Mexico, the Oklahoma Panhandle, western Kansas, and eastern Colorado. This disaster and the region where it happened came to be known as the Dust Bowl. It covered one hundred million acres by 1935. In Amarillo, Texas the worst year for storms was 1935, they lasted a total of nine hundred and eight hours. Seven times, from January to March, the visibility in Amarillo declined to zero; one of these complete blackouts lasted eleven hours. In another instance a single storm raged for three and a half days. The Burnett’s moved to Camdenton, Missouri in 1935 to start a new life due to the devastation of the Dust Bowl. Jack’s overly protective ma doted on him with unbiased enthusiasm. His pa was somewhat embarrassed by Jack’s deficient mental faculties and gave him little attention. Jack’s conversations were devoid of substance. He had a full head of dark, wavy hair, high cheekbones, a brilliant smile and a twinkle in his eye. His physique was chiseled with broad shoulders and somewhat muscular. His best friend was the mirror. He spent countless hours, admiring himself in front of it, he would point his finger at his image with a cocky smile, winking, and saying; ‘You’re a good looking man, Jack Burnett,’ he believed this with every ounce of his being. Truth is told he was indeed handsome, handsome enough to earn the nickname Handsome Jack. He was so handsome that women completely ignored the fact that he had the IQ of a head of lettuce. Jack would come to The Skunk for lunch everyday to flirt with Lil’ Sue. Sue was a bit reserved at first; Jack normally talked about what he knew, which was normally himself. But he was handsome, and when he smiled at her, she felt like a one hundred dollar bill. He wanted to marry her and she was slowly falling for his charms. After several months of courting, Lil’ Sue finally gave into Jack’s proposal of marriage, and they were engaged to be wed and Jack moved into Sue’s place. Jack’s enjoyment of drinking the whiskey grew and caused him to miss work more often and paying the bills was becoming harder. They were poor and it was getting harder for Lil Sue to help her parents and it broke her heart, she liked to help them out as much as she could. When Jack and Sue got married they were puppy dog in love, and now it had turned into a dark nightmare for Sue. Jack took to drinking more and more each day and was turning meaner than ever. To her, he was no longer handsome. He was getting a reputation in town as a mean drunk and nobody wanted anything to do with him much anymore except his boss, who paid him the lowest wages he could, with Jack’s ignorant acceptance. Lil’ Sue’s dreams had never seemed so far away. Lil’ Sue’s best friend was Maria Ricci. They were both two young beautiful girls struggling through life together. Maria made her feel good about herself; she loved Maria like a sister. Maria was the only one that Mary Sue could talk to about her troubles. After a slow day at The Skunk, Jack came to pick her up and take her to the Café back in town so she could sit and visit with Maria. When she got in the truck’s cab, it smelled like a brewery, but she dare not say a word for fear of setting of him off. So she sat there quietly as the rain hit the windshield and the wiper squeaking, back and worth, squeak, squeak, squeak… The Happy Snappy Café could seat 20 people comfortably. It’s located on U.S. Highway 54. It was small but fairly new. “Pudge” was the owner of it. He was a short man who also served as the cook. He bought this place a couple years back and turned it into a café. He had hired on 3 part-time waitresses and Maria, was his favorite. It seemed like whenever she was on her shift, business was real good. So he did his best to give as much hours as she could handle. After Jack had dropped her off at the café the two girls were sat at the counter talking and giggling, when two strangers walked in. Right away Lil Sue didn’t like the way those boys looked or how they made her feel at all. There was something dirty about them she thought to herself. She thought they could be a real bad case of trouble. Lil’ Sue leaned close to Maria’s ear and whispered. “Maria, you best stay away from those boys, I don’t like the looks of them, and they’re going to cause you trouble, I see they way yer eyeing one of them right now, he’ll get the wrong idea Maria, he’s a stranger, he’s dirty.” “Don’t you worry ‘bout me, darlin’, I can handle those boys.” Maria whispered back winking at Mary Sue. But of course with Maria being single, she was attracted to one of the boys, one of them in particular. There was something about him she liked, dirty or not. Lil’ Sue sure was worried about Maria, and hoped she would be okay. She knew how Maria was though, searching for something but never really knowing what that something was. Handsome Jack had finally finished his work and pulled up to the café half drunk from a fifth of cheap whiskey he had been nursing on all day since early morning; as Lil’ Sue had suspected earlier. As the rusty old truck came to a stop, he slammed his fist on the horn, laying hard into it. She figured he might be really wound-up and drunk, so she hurried on her way worrying about Maria. With this the two hugged and Mary Sue ran out of the cafe to Jack’s truck as he was still banging on his horn. The storm was in full swing; raining pouring down, thunder rolling through the hills, and the lightning lit up the evening sky. Dewey Lee Johnson was born in 1916, in Kansas City, Missouri. His pa was a doctor and his ma a house wife. Dewey was infected with polio when he was six years old. Polio was discovered to be an inadvertent by-product of modern unsanitary conditions, in short, a disease. It struck down whites, blacks, immigrants, native americans, whether urban, suburban, or rural, clean or dirty, rich or poor, young or old. Between Dr. Johnson’s medical knowledge, and their faith, hope, and love, Dewey was one of the lucky ones. He was cured, and came out of it the ordeal with just a minor limp to his gait. His mother raised Dewey and his twin sisters, with love. She was an excellent mother tending to them and making sure they learned their manners, respected their elders, and the learned the word of the Gospel. The Johnson’s lived a very nice, comfortable life. They struggled as most folks did throughout the depression, but they came through it better than most. Despite the national attention to polio and the increased understanding of the disease, the number of cases did not slow since the beginning of epidemic levels in 1916. Dewey had an average, normal upbringing, making excellent grades through school and he was never a problem for his parents or his two sisters. He kept to himself reading, he had collected books and loved to read. He spent many hours in the school library and the local library. He also enjoyed being outdoors. He loved the sights, smells, and sounds. He was fairly athletic despite having had polio, and he could keep up with the other boys in school. It was 1942, and Dewey Lee had just turned twenty six when he first hit the front lines in Europe during The Second World War. He considered it an honor to serve his country but to say the least, it was most horrifying experience he’d ever seen or felt in his entire life. On patrol in France and he rounded a corner of an old stone church and was facing eye-to-eye, a very young German soldier who couldn’t have been a day older than eighteen. They both stood there frozen in their tracks staring into each other in the eyes, waiting for one or the other to make a move. Gunfire went off in the distance. Both of them reacted at the same time and Dewey found he was involved in a one-on-one, man-to-man fight for his life. The German was fast and quick, and he was slightly smaller in build than Dewey, but strong. The two went to the ground hard and the German soldier slashed the tendons in Dewey’s leg. The German was gaining control and trying to plunge his knife into Dewey’s neck. Dewey did not want to die and he did not want to kill the German either, he was in a quandary of his life. A furious rage exploded within him; he had never felt such a powerful emotion in his life. As the German’s knife inched closer to his neck and for his own will for survival, he quickly got his knife free and started stabbing the German repeatedly in his side as hard and fast as he could until the German eyes grew big and wide, as he struggled for his last breath of life. Dewey looked into his eyes and watched the life fade from the German as his body went limp, Dewey was devastated. He had killed man. He hated it. The rage inside him grew intense. He had a dead man’s blood on his hands. He hated it. The tension in him grew with every second. He started screaming at the top of his lungs and a bullet ricocheted close by him. He quickly ran inside the church for cover, he felt safe in there for some reason. He wanted to stop the pain inside him, help stop the pain he saw all around him. He broke down and wept. At that moment of his life, Dewey made a decision. Instead of killing, he wanted to help people heal somehow, without any more fighting on his part. Dewey’s leg required medical attention. He was evacuated and ironically reassigned as an assistant to the clergy. During this assignment, he had an epiphany on a sunny day. He was alone walking outdoors, when a powerful feeling engulfed him. It swept over him in wave after wave. He fell down to the ground and wept with such a glorious feeling inside, cleansing his body and soul. He felt he had found the Lord in a deep way. Now he wanted to serve for the Lord, as well as his country. He wanted to lead and witness to hundreds of people about the love of the Lord and he had a dream of being a Pastor in his own church, with his own community to serve. After the war ended and by 1949, Dewey moved down to The Lake of the Ozarks in Camden County, Missouri. He was the new Pastor of the First Community Church of Christ in Camdenton. He was replacing Pastor Roy Richards who was the founder of the church and had passed on recently. Pastor Roy was well known and liked by all the folk in and around town. He was sorely missed and Dewey had a hard act to follow. The church was constructed of beautiful stone, with an ornate steeple of stone and brick. In the top of the steeple was and old cracked church bell. It rang out through the town on the hour, every hour, seven days a week. It had a beautiful, deep, resonated, tone. Dewey was excited about his new life leading a congregation. His heart was filled with anticipation and joy. He had met and married a young woman after he came back from the war and married her in Kansas City. Her name was Julie Ann Horton. She was also a native of Kansas and her folks struggled through the years to makes ends meet. Dewey was head over heels in love with Julie Ann, she’s beautiful inside and out. She turned every man’s head when they saw her. When Katie June first met Dewey she knew she was in love. Her pa did his best to make ends meet with their cattle farm. It was a very small operation and the depression hurt them something bad. He almost lost everything they had. He relied on banks for loans to keep the farm crippling along and their heads barely above water, but the interest from the loans was killing them, and they lived meager lives. Jack wouldn’t except any help from any man. But he did except help from those banks, which ironically, hurt them more. He was one of the hardest workingmen Julie Ann remembers. He was always working sunrise-to-sunset seven days a week. Her ma was a cashier at the local market. She raised her children well, with good manners and behavior. They were strong Catholics with high morals. She took them to church every Wednesday, and Sunday morning. Julie had a brother and a sister and they would play in the fields all day long as kids. Her ma would sing to them a song passed down from her mother when she was younger. After Dewey Lee and Julie Ann settled in the freshly painted house next to the church, they took to the neighborhood going from door to door introducing themselves to all the town folk getting to know them. Dewey was more than ready for the challenges that lie ahead for him and his new bride. Dewey and Julie were enjoying their weekly Friday diner at The Happy Snappy Café, when two wet and dirty, dark looking strangers came in. Julie Ann immediately grew tense with their presence. She was ill at ease and wanted to get out of there. “Dewey, let’s not finish our diner tonight I want to leave. Those men scare me.” Julie Ann whispered. “Just relax honey, I’m sure they’re good people and just down on there luck.” He replied. “But I want to leave, can we please go?” She pleaded with Dewey a tear was welling up in her eye. “It’s okay honey, there’s nothing to worry about.” With this said he turned to the two men and said. “Stormy night we’re having, welcome to our town gentlemen.” The two just turned around and stared at both of them. One of them smiled and winked at Katie Julie Ann. This horrified her and her face turned red. She looked away in disgust. Dewey turned his attention back to Julie and his plate. “Yeah honey pie; it’s a real wet one.” The smaller one replied back smirking. “Dewey, let’s finish our plates and we’ll leave.” Katie said, feeling very uncomfortable. The two men took a table in the corner; one of them would not stop staring at Julie. Maria walked up to their table to take their order trying to look all cute and sweet like. When she arrived, his attentions were now focused on her. Dewey and Julie hurriedly finished their dinner, and nervously left the café. They got into the ‘48 Chevy Fleetmaster that Dewey loved so much; He had purchased it before the move from Kansas City. He wanted a reliable and safe automobile for his new family. Katie turned to Dewey and said. “Those men are bad, I can feel it. One of them kept eyeing me, Dewey. The way he looked at me made me feel so lowly and cheap.” Dewey leaned over the seat and kissed her on the cheek. “Don’t worry by the looks of them I’m sure they won’t be staying long. I don’t expect them to hang around this small town, there’s not much to offer them here.” With that said they headed back home for the night into the storm. Estol Thompson was amazed how much it had rained. In all his days living here at Ha Ha Tonka, he had never seen it rain so much. It was going to be a stormy, soggy, spring this year he thought. He was born and raised on this property and comes from five generations of Thompson’s’ down from these parts. His family had operated the Ha Ha Tonka Mill throughout all these years. There was a general store with one gas pump and the town’s post office where all the folk would get their mail. It was also the site of the local mill fed by the Ha Ha Tonka Springs. He loved to tell stories of the folklore and history surrounding these parts. He was known as the local storyteller of the town. Ha Ha Tonka means ‘laughing waters’ in the Osage Indian language, he would gladly share this information with every stranger he met. There was an old castle ruin that stood on top of the cliff overlooking the river and lake. It was a hunting trip that introduced Robert M. Snyder, a wealthy businessman from Kansas City, to the site in 1903. Captivated, he purchased sixty tracts of land and proceeded to build a private retreat with the crown jewel being a huge, European style, castle-like mansion atop the bluff overlooking the spring chasm. The construction started in 1905 and a year later he was killed in the first automobile accident in the Kansas City. Robert M. Snyder, Jr., lived at the castle after his fathers death. He died in 1937. In 1942 a fire was ignited by one of the four chimneys, sparking the roof, leaving only the three-story stonewall structure standing as well as the stables and water tower. The scenery at Ha Ha Tonka is breath taking. You can see the hills and the river for miles and miles. There are several cave formations and natural springs. There is a natural bridge made from an old rock formation, and there are acres and acres of woodlands. All the people from these parts enjoyed spending time down here as well as some of the tourist that were starting to frequent the lake in the summer months. The property is located off the Niangua River, which feeds into the lake. Estol remembers a story that his pa, told him about a night back in 1933. He awoke to loud banging on the front door of the General store door. It was 1:00 a.m., a strange time for someone knocking on your door. They had lived in an apartment above the store. His ma didn’t want his pa to answer the door; she figured they couldn’t be tourists at this time of night; they must be up to no good. He told her that if he didn’t answer the door, they most likely weren’t going to leave until they gassed up and that it’s best for them to leave. She armed herself with a sawed-off shotgun at the top of the stairs, as he filled the automobile up with gasoline. The next day they heard of the news that The Cole County bank in Jefferson City had been robbed and rumor had it, that it was Pretty Boy Floyd and his boys and they had stopped in at The Happy Snappy Café earlier that day, playing the slot machine. All the folk from these parts knew Estol Thompson well. Aside from running the post office, the general store, and the mill, he would throw hoedowns on Saturday nights at the mill down by the river’s edge. People would come from all around and they would bring catfish and fixings along to eat, listen, and dance to good music and pass the jug of moonshine around the fire. They would tear up the night with all that music, food, and ‘shine. The town of Camdenton was a young and small, community, made mostly of farmers, ex-farmers, and fishermen, trying to figure out a new way of life since the Dam had been built. The hoedown at the mill was an event that most of the folk in town looked forward to. With the rain, came the red mud that would stick to your boots like glue. It made walking hard with all the mud on your shoes, Ozark mountain red-river mud they called it. After the storm had passed through the night, Estol drove up to his cabin in his 1937 GMC truck. It was a great workhorse for him on the property. It never let him down or gave him many problems. He maintained it well. Estol was settling back after a long day of work, there wasn’t much business at the store that day due to the weather, so he was able to work on some of the property. Estol was getting ready for another hoedown at the mill Saturday night. There was to be a full moon the next night or two, which promised for some wild times. Cletus would be coming up from that the three-mile run sometime soon with some fresh butter wine moonshine for the evening’s actives. You never knew when Cletus would arrive. Everyone seemed to like that sweet ‘shine and Cletus was making some of the best in these parts. Estol always made sure he had plenty on hand. They would tear the night up. The town of Camdenton was a young and small, community, made mostly of farmers, ex-farmers, and fishermen, trying to figure out a new way of life since the Dam had been built. This was an event that most of the folk in town looked forward to. With the rain, came the red mud that would stick to your boots like glue. It made walking hard with all the weight of the mud. Ozark mountain red-river mud they called it
Posted on: Mon, 30 Jun 2014 21:05:50 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015