Chinchillas, Ponies and Donkeys.....Oh My!

Growing up in Red Oak, Georgia along U.S. 29 or Roosevelt Highway my father indulged my sister and I with just about every pet imaginable with reptiles being the exception. Of course, we had the regular assortment of dogs and cats that just seemed to take up with us...usually at a time when they were about to bless the world with a litter of puppies or kitties, but we also had a few unexpected animals of the more exotic type.  

While Red Oak wasn't exactly the city during the 1970s it was more city than country and considering we lived on the grounds of a large lumber yard....West Lumber Company...it wasn't the spot where you would expect to find a large assortment of animals. 

For example, we had bunny rabbits and colored chicks bought at the feed store in College Park during the springtime along with various ducks that would run around the yard quacking up a storm. I had little turtles bought with my allowance money from the Woolworth at Jamestown Shopping Center, and so many goldfish were flushed down the toilet at Red Oak I'm amazed my parents didn't have serious plumbing issues.

At one point we had six chinchillas. My sister and I loved waiting for them to be in the right position in their cages so we could reach in and grab them by the tail...the only way to safely pick up a chinchilla since they have very sharp teeth and love to bite. Daddy had designs on breeding, raising, and selling the little critters, but at some point I think he finally realized all of our chinchillas were...alas....of the male persuasion.

Daddy, being the farm boy that he was, felt my sister and I needed to experience a cow...a calf to be more exact at some point when I was seven or eight.   So, a baby calf was delivered to the house inside a rather large wooden crate. I say large because the crate was as big as my bedroom. Every single day our job was to give the calf his food and give him his bottle. 

Yep....he had a huge bottle resembling a baby's bottle with the longest nipple I'd ever seen. For a time it was one of the highlights of my day to visit the calf and give him/her the bottle. While he or she ( I really don't remember) pulled and tugged at the bottle I tried to keep steady by using my other hand to pet the calf and I would tell him all my deep dark secrets.

Then there was the Christmas morning that my sister and I heard a commotion on the front porch along with a knock on the door. We had already waded through the stacks of presents under the tree and just figured company had come "a callin'", so we opened the door not realizing yet another animal was about to enter our menagerie.

A pony!!!

A pony had climbed our front steps and was standing on our front porch.  I couldn't believe my eyes. From what I now understand our little pony had won several ribbons and various trophies, and his owner needed to retire him, so the pony came to live at our house for awhile. 

It was a very exciting Christmas morning!!! 

Then there was the day we found the donkey tied up in our yard. We never named our larger animals. The calf was The Calf....the pony was the The Pony...and the donkey was....you guessed it....The Donkey.  I felt sorry for him since he was rather homely in that donkey kind of way.  I mean....he was a donkey, right?

He put up with a lot from me. At my young age I patted, prodded, and rubbed him. I talked to him, hugged him, rubbed his nose, kissed him, fed him treats, and just generally loved him very much...probably too much because one day he figured out how to loosen the knot from the rope tied around one of our oak trees. I'd really like to think he just wanted to go exploring a bit, but more than likely he was trying to escape all of the love I tried to bestow upon him.

The donkey decided he'd take a trip down to the center of Red Oak. Instead of taking the highway he decided to run down the rail road tracks. I caught sight of him and my screams alerted  an employee of my father's who set off after my beloved donkey. To make matters worse we could hear a train whistle in the distance, and I was afraid not only my donkey would be hit by the train....I was concerned for the man trying to rescue him for me.

The train went whizzing past the house and it wasn't until the train passed I saw the man carefully making his way up the side of the tracks...rope in hand...pulling the donkey with him. He had managed to catch up with the donkey and get him off the tracks just before the train passed.

Another hot summer afternoon I heard a commotion out on the highway in front of the house. I went to the porch and saw where the donkey had gotten loose yet again and ventured across the tracks and was standing in the middle of the highway. I had been told to never cross the tracks without an adult so...I commenced to hollering and crying afraid my donkey would get hurt.

Mom came running and hurried across the tracks to get to the donkey. Then I really began screaming and crying because now not only was my donkey across the tracks...so was my mother. When I was younger I had tremendous separation anxiety during most of my elementary years where my mom was concerned.

Looking back on it now the whole situation was hilarious....even though at the time I was scared and NOT amused. Not accustomed to seeing a donkey in the middle of Roosevelt Highway the traffic had come to a stop both ways and the cars were gingerly taking turns slowly making their way around my donkey...first one direction and then the other. The donkey...well, he just stood there on the center line of the road...just staring into space as most donkeys do looking off towards College Park with his rope dangling down his side and leading off behind him. Every now and then his tail would twitch and swat at a fly.

Mother grabbed the rope and tried to get him to turn around towards our drive so she could lead him home. The donkey would have none of that.....

She tugged.

The donkey resisted.

She pulled.

He shook his head at her.

She pushed.

He bared his teeth at her.

By this time several folks were getting impatient and began to honk their horns upsetting all of us...the donkey, Mother, and me. The donkey didn't like the car horns and began making noises. 

Yes, he stood there in the middle of the road and began braying as loud as he could.

Heeee-Haaaaaw........Heeeee-Haaaaw......Heee-Haaaaaw!!!!

A few of the folks who actually knew us hung their heads out the windows as they inched by mom saying, "Heeey, Geri!", "Having fun?", or just attempting to give her advice or encouragement of some sort.

By this point the donkey was tired of the whole "game" and took a set-down. Yep, I now know why a donkey is often referred to as an ass or a Jackass to be more precise. The donkey just plopped his big fat ASS right down on the center line of Roosevelt Highway....just sat down and proceeded to ignore my mother for the next fifteen to twenty minutes.

Then as suddenly as he had sat down he stood up, turned around and walked back across the tracks and into our yard as if he owned the world and did that sort of thing every day. 

My mother wearily looked on and then trudged on along behind him across the tracks, into our yard and up the steps. She didn't even offer to tie him up. I think my dad did that once he arrived at the house.

Our donkey found himself put out to pasture at a family friend's farm within the week where he proceeded to irritate the Mama Cows by trying to mother their calves.

Our family stuck to dogs and cats after that.

Red Oak's Own....Jo-Jo White

You find the most interesting things in old newspapers.  The other day I was clicking through some old issues of the Pittsburgh Press when I saw the words "Red Oak, Georgia".  I immediately zeroed in on the article because Red Oak is the name of the place where I grew up.  

The article was dated October 3, 1934, and said....

The little town of Red Oak, Georgia doesn't know it yet, but it isn't going to have any main street a week from now, for that winding red clay strip that runs from the general store to the depot, is going to be re-named Rue De La Jo-Jo White.

Why?

Well yes, I thought...why?  Who in the heck is Jo-Jo White, and why would the folks of Red Oak name a street after him?  For one thing as far back as the 1960s Red Oak didn't have a street named Main Street.  The main drag was Roosevelt Highway/State Route 29.  The general store....were they referring to Mr. Johnson's store that stood on the corner of Washington Road and Roosevelt Highway or was there a general store on down close to the old depot where Lee Plaza was built in the 1970s?  I know the approximate location of the old depot at Red Oak, but it moved at some point

The article continues with the journalist's answer to the why question:

Simply because Jo-Jo White, native son of Red Oak and now center fielder for the Detroit Tigers is going to be the rampaging dark horse for the 1934 World Series.  Jo-Jo of Red Oak is going to perform many remarkable feats in the series that starts this afternoon.   He is going to lam bast the living daylights off the ball.  He will make shoe-string catches, French fried catches, and catches a la Julienne.

He will steal first, second, third, and home.  He will be a pain in the neck, a thorn in the side, a fly in the ointment and an asp in the bosom to the Cards.

How do I know this?   How do I know that it will be Jo-Jo White and not Hank Greenberg or Billy Rogell or Leo Durocher or Pepper Martin again?   I know it because I got it from the same source I get many of my sterling predictions - from a vision.

Well, first of all it's a little thrilling for me to see my hometown which really wasn't much of a town....more of a delightful community mentioned in a Pittsburgh newspaper.   Second, I had to know more about this Jo-Jo White.

So, while the newspaper article continued discussing a "vision"....you can see the whole article here....I went off in another direction to find out more.

Jo-Jo White's full name was Joyner Clifford White, and he was born in Red Oak, Georgia on June 1, 1909.  Immediately I decided his nickname...Jo-Jo....had to come from his first name, right?  I was wrong.  He earned the nickname because of the way he pronounced the word "Georgia".

Seriously?

So far I've determined Jo-Jo White played for the Carrollton Frogs in 1928....a minor league team in the Georgia-Alabama league before breaking into the major leagues.

He played with the Detroit Tigers during the 1934 and 1935 seasons when the team won back to back games of the 1934 World Series.  In 1935, he would play in five games of the World Series.  

Gee, I guess the Pittsburgh Press reporter's vision was accurate.

During his time with the Detroit Tigers, Jo-Jo White's roommate was Hank Greenberg who wrote in his autobiography that for five years he and Jo-Jo White re-fought the Civil War every night.  White's first comment to Greenberg had to do with the fact he was surprised to find out a Jew such as Greenberg didn't have horns.  The two men were soon fast friends.  

Unfortunately, White's time with the Tigers was short-lived.  Greenberg reports in his book that following a drunken incident with a hat belonging to the Tiger's manager, Del Barker was destroyed White was traded to the Seattle Rainiers.

An article from Sportspress Northwest dated last year shows a few pictures including this one with a caption that states..."Jo-Jo White teaching Edo Vanni the right way to perform a hook slide.   Sixty-five years later Vanni would credit White with all he needed to know to run the bases well."

The article also advises Jo-Jo White learned base stealing from another famous Georgia baseball player.....Ty Cobb, and.....

"White, who played with the Rainiers from 1939-1942, and again from 1946 to 1948, became an igniter for the club, spraying line drives to all fields and commandeering the base paths with skilled abandon."

Jo-Jo White was able to return to the majors during World War II.  In 1943, he began playing for the Philadelphia Athletics, and in 1944 was traded to the Cincinnati Reds.

White played his final game on September 30, 1944, and for several years coached with various teams including the Detroit Tigers.....and even coached in Atlanta with the Braves for a year. 

The book Stand and Deliver:  A History of Pinch-Hitting by Paul Votano says, "White was involved in a curious event in 1960, while a coach for the Cleveland Indians.  General Manager, Frank "Trader" Lane swapped his manager, Joe Gordon, to the Tigers for their manager at the time, Jimmy Dykes.  Without a skipper for the game, the Indians had Jo-Jo White run the team, and he won his only game as a big leaguer manager."

Jo-Jo White passed away on October 9, 1986 while living in Tacoma, Washington....far away from his Red Oak, Georgia roots.  Eleven years later he was inducted into the Georgia Sports Hall of Fame in 1997.  

Jo-Jo White was father of Mike White……Joyner Michael White…..who played professional ball in the 1960s

Another View of the Red Oak Train Depot

I grew up in Red Oak, Georgia…..a little strip of real estate between College Park and Fairburn. I attended elementary and high school while living there…..I made life-long friends there…..I did the Girl Scout thing there…I was baptized there…..I learned to drive there……I LIVED there , and it was a fantastic place to grow up back in the early 70s.

I loved that place…..I still do even though most everyone I knew is long gone including me, my home, and even the train depot.

Of course….the train depot seen with this post was long gone before I ever moved to Red Oak, but I rode by its location at least twice a day for many years.


I originally wrote about the train depot in December , 2007 when I was lucky enough to locate the original building plans for the depot which you can see HERE along with some of recollections of my daily visits to downtown Red Oak.

Go on….click through….you KNOW you want to read that post as well. :)

At that time someone by the time of C.E. Waltz commented and advised his grandfather had been the postmaster until the mid 60s and his grandmother had run a store out of the depot as well. He also advised that instead of the building being demolished it had been torn down and moved….and it had become a restaurant.

So , now the plot thickens. I wonder if any of my Red Oak friends I’ve hooked up with on Facebook or new friends that find me through Google searches know where the old depot building wound up and if it is still a restaurant…….
I’m waiting, and I'd love to know the rest of the story…:)

I snagged the depot picture from the Atlanta History Center site……HERE. I hope they don’t sue me for posting it……I’m giving full credit though.

And……it’s the season of the mulligan here at Georgia on My Mind while I’m busy telling myself I can write a book I'm revisting some of my older postings…..for an explanation see the link HERE.

Lost History: Red Oak Depot

When I was a little girl and before I started to school one of the things I would do each day is follow my mother around. While a nice Mr. Jackson delivered our newspaper each afternoon to a box out at the highway our mail went to a post office box down the road in Red Oak. We received our mail at the same post office box as the business my father worked for. I can’t remember my first address or phone number after I was married, but I still remember PO Box 70 as my mailing address for all of those years.

Anyway we were in downtown Red Oak (if there was such a thing) every day and I often wondered aloud to my mother why Red Oak didn’t have a train depot like the neighboring towns of Fairburn, Palmetto, or even College Park. Of course, mother didn’t know. Over the years I did discover there had been one, but progress had required that it be torn down. How sad….

The above image was found online here, and its one of the closest things I’ve found to an actual photo.