Firecrackers and a Flashlight
by Joe Stout
It wasn’t the fourth of July but it was a hot summer night. A bunch of the guys were riding around in Dizzy Jones dad’s 1937 Chevrolet. For some reason I was driving the car. There was me, Dizzy, Bernie Smith, Moose Collins, Travis Usery, and Joe Foust. We were driving over to Sharon and I turned right off hiway 45, in front of the Presbyterian Church. Someone in the back seat had a pack of firecrackers and they started lighting them and tossing them out the window. As I circled around we ended up driving down the main street and as we passed the bank someone threw out another firecracker.
No one saw the Sharon night policeman standing there. The firecracker landed within three feet of him when it went off. We continued driving around and then headed north on Hiway 45 and I looked in the rear view mirror and saw an A Model Ford with no headlights behind us. The driver had a flashlight stuck out the window. Someone said let’s stop and see what he wants.
It turned out to be the Sharon night policeman and as he approached us he drew his gun and stuck it in my face ordering us out of the car. His hand was shaking so hard that I became afraid he might shoot me accidently. Seeing that we were just teenagers he began to calm down and took all of our names and told us to report to city court the next day and then let us go.
The next day we got out of school (which saddened us deeply) and drove to Sharon for our court date. Since we all thought that no one had any money we decided that we would inform the judge of this fact and we would get out of paying a fine. The mayor was the judge and he told we would all have to pay a fine of $6.00. He told us if we did not pay the fine that they would take us to jail. I asked how long we would have to stay thinking that might be a new experience for us. He informed us that we would get $1.00 credit for each day in jail but that the cost of transporting us would be added. I told him we could probably get over to Dresden on our own.
About this time Joe Foust got up and went up and paid the $6.00. We all looked at each other knowing the jig was up but no one else had any money.
Dale Wright operated a cafe in the lower part of the old opera building on Soup Street. All the kids hung out at Dale’s cafe and he was a buddy to all. We decided that we would call him and see if he would come and loan us the money for our fine as we didn’t want our parents to know. Dale came and paid our fine and we were able to return to school.
I still don’t like to shoot firecrackers on New Years and the Fourth of July.