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Porterdale Mill on the Yellow River |
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Porterdale Memories
by
Jerry Mills
My Mother was Lenora Farrow Mills
(later Lenora F. Smith) and my Father was Charles W. Mills,
better known as "Whit". They were living at 16 Elm St. when I
was born in 1935. My mother said it all happened on the east
side of the house and in the middle room. She said that Dr.
Sams was there and took care of her and me. I really don't
remember, but I took her word for it. My grandparents from
dad's side of the family lived across the street, and my
grandmother "Big Mama" lived at 18 Elm St. just next door on
the west side of the house. Mother and Dad both worked in the
mills. Mother worked in the Osprey and dad in the Porterdale
Mill. Some of my aunts and uncles were, Lula, Eula, Viola, all
mother's sisters, uncle Albert and Jesse Farrow, her brothers.
Dad had a brother Uncle Jim Mills. There were my cousins,
Junior, Kathryn, Maxine, Dorothy, Harold, Larry and their mother
Modine that lived a few doors west on Elm St.
My very first recollection of my
life was one day when there was snow on the ground. I remember
trying to pull my wagon through all that white stuff and where
it must have come from. I couldn't pull the wagon, the snow
was too deep and I had to have help. If the truth be known it
was probably just an inch or so, but it seemed like it was very
deep to me at the time. I remember looking off down into the
woods and seeing a big chunk of snow falling from a tree. It
was probably a pine tree, and I can really see it falling, even
to this day. I don't remember much of those very early
years, but I do remember starting my very first day of school
at Porterdale. A neighbor named Benny Lindsey, who was in high
school at the time, escorted me to my first grade class that
very first day. Benny had a sister named Ida and his L.C. &
Novella were his parents. I think my first grade teacher was
Miss Benson, but not 100% sure. But the next day Benny said I
could find my own way to the classroom. Well being me, I got
confused and wound up in the wrong room. Confused and scared
when I realized I was in the second grade classroom I began to
cry. Well the good teacher, forgot her name, helped me find my
assigned classroom and all was well from that day on.
My third grade teacher was Ms. Hood,
and I remember that Donald Davis and I were both madly in love
with our fourth grade teacher, Ms. Burroughs. I suppose we
could have been called the teacher's pet. Ms. Burroughs was
from New Jersey as I recall. I can even remember that she lived
at 205 Anderson Ave, in Covington. And of course I remember the
Tanner sisters, Ms. Maud King and lots of the other names that I
have read here on this website.
Elementary school was not so
eventful. We had the theater in the school building. We saw
some educational films, but mostly it was active at night and on
Saturday when with 15 cents we could catch Roy Rogers, Gene
Autry, Hopalong Cassidy or some of our other western heroes.
The swimming pool where I learned to swim and remember seeing
Miss Annie Day float around without a care in the world. The
old steel bridge over the river is one of the things that I
remember very well. Seeing the pictures here and the water
almost over the boards is still a very frightening thought.
Can you imagine us kids in the first grade, five and six years
old, walking alone to school with the water almost up to the
boards. Back then we did it. My mother said that she walked
across that old bridge with the water was sloshing up between
the boards. As far as I can remember no one ever even came
close to falling in. And there were the many many times we
hiked, played cowboys and Indians, and fished above and below
the damn on that old river. And what amazes me is that not once
do I remember any of us boys doing anything stupid and getting
hurt or in trouble. If the water was up and swift we knew we
had better stay clear.
Occasionally we did some things that
were just a little bad. One evening late we were throwing
rocks at each other. We could have gotten hurt but I guess the
good Lord was watching over us. There were some big bushes in
the curve at the top of the hill on Elm St. We were throwing
rocks over the bushes at each other and I sailed one over and
heard it hit something that it shouldn't have hit. I musta put
a little umph on it and it went toooo far and hit Ray Potts 1940
Ford right in the center of his windshield. Cracked it all
across. Now you all know that Ray Potts was the big chief of
police there in Porterdale, right. He lived right across from
Prentis Ollis. Well the next day on my way to school the
Chief stopped me and asked if I knew anything about his
windshield. He said somebody broke it. Not me, I don't know
anything about it SIR! Boy was I scared. Well one day while
playing out in the yard, the chief stopped, I went over to his
car and confessed that it was I that threw the rock and that it
was an accident and didn't mean to break his windshield or even
hit his car. He smiled and said that all was forgiven,
thanked me for being honest and told me very firmly to be more
careful when we were throwing rocks at each other. That taught
me a lesson that to this day I haven't forgotten. Honesty is
good practice.
Later, I think it was in 1942,
mother and dad had bought a piece of land just west of
Porterdale from Lee Farrow. We moved up there and I learned to
ride the old rattling school bus. There across the bumpy front
yard I finally learned to ride my bicycle too. I had friends
there, Kathryn Farrow, Kathryn Fincher, all the Smallwood
gang, and the Tollerson's. It wasn't long till things didn't
work out for mother and dad. Mother moved back to Porterdale
and we lived with my Grandmother "Big Mama" for awhile, then we
lived with my Uncle Russell Braden and Aunt Viola for awhile.
But later mother was able to rent a couple of rooms from Mr.
Frank Bonner at 16 Elm St. There we lived in those two rooms
until 1948. I had lots of good times in Porterdale. I
enjoyed the Porterdale all-star softball games at night during
the summer. Someone mentioned Sid Hatfield. I remember that
he played first base and could catch the softball and make it
pop the leather like a gunshot. And who remembers "Freck"
Newnan, how he could wind up and pitch that softball. And
what about the umpire, I can't remember his name but he could
call a strike like none other that I have heard in my
lifetime. If a good fast strike came across the plate, he
would let out a "STEEEEEEEEEERIKE!!!!!" that could be heard
clear across Porterdale. Well, almost! I betcha Billy Crowell
remembers his name. Then there was the baseball games. There
were no lights so they were always played on Sunday afternoon
after church. Chasing the foul balls was one of our favorite
things to do. One day a foul ball went all the way to the
river out behind the grandstand. I stripped off all, (all) my
clothes and jumped in. I was a pretty good swimmer. The ball
was wet and no good so the team gave it to me.
On Sunday's everyone went to
church. There were so many cars and people along the
street. Seems everybody went to church and afterwards it was
always home to fried chicken, biscuits, mashed potatoes, and the
usual pies and iced tea. There were no restaurants back then
like there are now. So everybody just went home, had a good
home cooked meal and then sat around and talked until time to go
back to the evening services at church.
Porterdale was a busy busy place
during and just after WWII. At shift change, 3:00 PM, it was a
busy busy place. People everywhere! Workers coming out of the
mill, drenched in sweat, with cotton sticking all over them,
cotton up their nose and in their ears. There was no air
conditioning in those days, at least not in the mills. It must
have been very very hot working around all that machinery.
There was the new shift going on duty with lunch bags etc. The
bus that ran between Covington and Porterdale was running.
Cost a dime to ride back then. And the old steam locomotives
would be transporting goods to and from the mills with black
smoke billowing from the stack. It was truly a site to see.
Too bad we didn't have all these little mini movie cameras like
we have today to capture the activity.
And so it went until near Christmas
1948. My mother had met a man named Boyd Smith that worked in
the Osprey mill. She decided to get married to him on Dec. 23rd
that year and move to Conyers. I was 13 and dreaded leaving
all my friends and Porterdale. Mother and Boyd commuted each
day from Conyers and I rode along each day and finished the 8th
grade at Porterdale Elementary. The following year we were to
start attending high school in Newton County. And as it turned
out, I went on to Conyers High School for the next four
years. After High School I spent four years in the Air Force.
Mother's marriage to Boyd didn't work out, so she moved back to
Porterdale. While I was in the Air Force and home one weekend
I met a beautiful girl, Peggy Mullennix from Stone Mountain. I
married Peggy in December 1956 and we live in Stone
Mountain till this day. Mother bought a house on Salem Road
from her brother Jesse Farrow in 1961. That is where she lived
until November 2002 when she became unable to live alone and to
need extra care. She moved to Meadowbrook nursing home very
near my house. I went daily to look after her until she passed
away on June 22, 2003. She was 91 years old.
My thanks to Prentis Ollis for this
website. I sincerely hope that the interest in Porterdale will
grow and flourish and bring back some of the old good time
memories. I have some old pictures that I will send to Prentis
as soon as I can find the time. Some I have here and some are
at Mother's house. If anyone wishes to communicate with me
they can do so by email to
jermills@bellsouth.net
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