When Whippoorwills Call
The Whippoorwill is a migratory bird that
goes farther south in the winter and returns to this part
of the country in the mid to late spring. I remember
hearing its nocturnal “Whip-poor-will” call hundreds of
times during the summer nights of my childhood. I was told
that it was time to go barefoot when the Whippoorwills
starting calling.
As a child I always looked forward to going barefoot.
Mother would let me go barefoot after school as soon as the
afternoons were warm enough. Later when the mornings were
warmer I went barefoot all day long, even to school. I
always envied the kids that started going barefoot early in
the spring. As I look back, I believe some of these
probably went barefoot early out of necessity.
Many folks, adults and children, went barefoot around their
homes, wearing shoes only when they went to church or to
some other special event. Many adults even came barefoot to
town during the week.
It always took a while for your feet to get tough enough to
thoroughly enjoy going barefoot. I remember my
grandfather’s feet had thick calluses from going barefoot
so much. The calluses that I acquired were never like his.
Usually by the time I obtained calluses it was winter
again.
I haven’t heard a whippoorwill in over thirty years. This
may be because I seldom open a window, since my house is
air conditioned; or it may be the result of the wooded area
around where I live being replaced with other houses; or
maybe there just aren’t any whippoorwills anymore. But who
misses them? I seldom go barefoot anymore anyway.
During the O.J. Simpson trial, I was getting my haircut up
at Uncle Earl’s. There were several older native Fayette
Countians sitting around reading the paper, talking about
everything under the sun and warming by the gas heater. The
discussion of the probability of a mistrial in the Simpson
case became the topic. Some jurors had been dismissed and
the number of alternates was getting low.
I asked, “ Has there ever been a time in local trials when
they gave out of jurors?”
My uncle, who was cutting my hair, answered, “Yes, I
remember once during a trial when the jury lost a member
and the judge ordered them to go out on the street and find
someone to fill the vacancy.”
According to his memory, the only one who could be found
was Mr. Ira White who had come to town barefoot. Mr. White
probably holds the distinction of being the only juror in
the history of Fayette County to serve barefoot.