Last fall we followed along the story of the back fill bin pumpkin
purloined from Boston road department’s yard. Recently I was reminded of
another pumpkin story in Boston, this one as old as the bouncing ball when we
sang along to the organ in movie theaters, between the double feature.
The boxes of records were piled literally to the ceiling
when I became township clerk. I shifted them for a couple of years, then bit
the bullet, learned the law, organized township records properly and began
disposing of obsolete records. One trustee helped me, and for more than a year
most Saturday mornings we spent with boxes on the table and blue recycle cans at
the ready.
Several ledgers from one box turned out to be carbon copies
of sheriff’s incident reports from the forties, fifties and sixties. Of course
I thumbed through them. Life in the township was pretty bland back then, too. Some
accidents, some excessive drinking, some domestic disputes, not much more.
One little story was interesting for what it did not
include. The sheriff knocked on Mr. Jones door, and asked Mr. Jones to produce
young Johnny, who was called to the living room. The sheriff told Mr. Jones
that Mrs. Smith’s pumpkin patch had been raided earlier that evening, and Mrs.
Smith named young Johnny as a culprit. Johnny was called to the living room,
confessed, retrieved the pumpkin from under his bed. I imagine it went like
this:
Mr. Jones to Johnny: “Did you take a pumpkin from Mrs.
Smith’s garden?”
Johnny: “Yu, yu, yes sir.”
Mr. Jones: “Where is it?”
Johnny: “U, u, under my bed.”
The sheriff took Johnny to Mrs. Smith’s to return the
pumpkin.
End of report.
In my mind I can hear dad’s voice; Johnny’s blubbering “Yu,
yu, yes, sir.”
Mr. Jones did not dispute the sheriff’s visit, nor did
Johnny deny his theft. I wonder how much more Johnny got when he returned home.
They were not township ledgers; they were the county
sheriffs’ records. The sheriff patrolled our township in the old days, and even
had a branch office in our town hall, the easier to contact them. I called and
a sheriff came around to pick up the ledgers.
September, 2013
And that theft was part of his Permanent Record!
ReplyDeleteThose were the good old days...in some ways.
Back then people respected authority. I'm afraid the story would be quite different. today
ReplyDeleteI dread to think what Johnny's report would look like today!
ReplyDeleteJane x
I'm thinking Johnny might have learned his lesson not to steal any further after this episode. How fun though to go through old records like that; I would have enjoyed reading them.
ReplyDeletebetty
Yeah, those good old days eh? When there was corporal punishment in schools, when kids were taught at home by spanking, and child abuse, other than murder, was not apparent. Maybe it was there, but we didn't read about it.
ReplyDeleteI wonder if Johnny was blubbering at home, while whatever was happening to him.
I don't know much law and certainly the various states differ but do you think that record is public information? Interesting story. A few years ago I got some good laughs from the Sheriff report from Ozark County MO. It was in the local paper.
ReplyDeleteWell let's hope that little encounter was enough to steer Johnny back on the right path.
ReplyDeleteThere are some aspects of llfe then that I miss. Badly. And respect for authority - which deserved that respect - is one of them.
ReplyDeleteIf I was Mrs Smith, I'd get Johnny to help with some gardening , then give him a pumpkin for his work.
ReplyDeleteLife seemed so much more innocent in those days - don't suppose it was, but it is nice to think so.,
ReplyDeletePerhaps Johnny just wanted his mum to make him a Mrs. Smith's pumpkin pie?
ReplyDeleteI should apologise for that pun.....
I agree with Pat - things were definitely simpler. We've just passed something that says prisoners who have NO chance of parole or ever leaving prison, can now spend months going through the court of appeal anyway....to what end? Who knows. They'd have had to have stolen more than a pumpkin though I guess!
ReplyDeleteAh, the good old days when police had the time to investigate a stolen pumpkin.
ReplyDeleteHari OM
ReplyDeleteInnocence lost. YAM xx
I wonder what he was going to do with the pumpkin. I call for further investigation, assuming the culprit is still alive.
ReplyDeleteLove,
Janie
Always tell the truth even if it hurts pity it doesn't happen more often.
ReplyDeleteMerle...................................
Great story.
ReplyDeletewhat a great pumpkin caper, strange he wanted the pumpkin and imagine it was heavy to carry home too. ha
ReplyDeleteAh, the good old days. When a word from the sheriff or the local policeman was enough to have young would-be criminals turning onto the straight and narrow path.
ReplyDeleteNot like these days when there are no coppers "walking the beat", knowing the neighbourhoods and the people well enough to know when something isn't right.