“PAPA CHARLIE” REMEMBERED AS ONE OF FRANKLIN’S OLD BELOVED TOWN CHARACTERS**UPDATED**


Back when I was growing up in Franklin…..back in the old days….everybody knew the big black man named Papa Charlie.

He was a huge man, much larger than the photo shown above. That photo was undoubtedly taken back in the days when he was much younger and much more slim and trim! In fact, I never heard anybody tell his weight….at least, not in an official sense. However, I’ve heard estimates that ranged from 400 to 650 pounds!

Let me explain, here, that Papa Charlie was one of those people who we have fond memories of because he was truly a “town character” or a fixture around the streets of Franklin, particularly in the late 1940′s, 1950′s, and 1960′s. On most days, he could be found hanging out on the corner of Fourth Avenue South and Main Street, near the old H.G. Hills location. He would spend hours there talking to the people who passed by- and everybody could call him by name. Later, when H.G. Hills relocated to the Franklin Plaza Shopping Center, in 1964, he could be seen pulling a huge wooden cart along the city streets and up Columbia Avenue to the new Hills location. This cart was one of those heavy-duty wooden carts like you might see at a train station, and many times I have heard them described as “mules” by folks in the moving business. Thanks to additional information submitted by Peggy Heithcock Jones, we know that Papa Charlie also spent many hours at the Fulton Beasley Auction Barn in Franklin, where he was befriended by Ms. Bessie Heithcock, Peggy’s Mom, and was always known as a gentle giant…..a kind and gentle man.

A few years back, I set out to conduct random interviews with some of the Old-timers of Franklin, just to see what they recalled about Papa Charlie. It was interesting to note two trends: (1) Every single person interviewed remembered Papa Charlie and (2) Not a single one of them knew his legal name. I spent many hours calling on folks before I finally found out his given name: Charlie Cliffe! And who finally identified him?? Believe it or not, it was some of the people who had worked with Papa Charlie, years ago, at the Jewell Brothers Tobacco Warehouse here in Franklin. One of the office girls had recalled the name she had always printed on his paychecks!

In researching Papa Charlie, I have found some interesting information in his biography:

Papa Charlie was born Charlie Cliffe on May 28, 1919 here in Franklin, the son of Mattie Cliffe. Papa Charlie’s maternal grandparents were Dan Cliffe, born in 1852, and the former Miss Parallee King, born in 1856. Papa Charlie’s grandparents were married here in Williamson County on April 29, 1876, according to legal documents on file with Williamson County and the State of Tennessee. The late Reverend William Scruggs, one of the men so instrumental in bringing Civil Rights to African-Americans here, once told me that he had been “raised up” with Papa Charlie. He had two sisters: Annie Norris and Susie Jordan. When World War II commenced, and not too long after the bombing of Pearl Harbor, Papa Charlie enlisted at Fort Benning, Georgia to serve “for the war” in the U.S. Army. I have found papers showing that his enlistment came on Feb. 21, 1942. It is interesting to note that, according to the data recorded by the military, Papa Charlie entered service at the official fighting weight of 255-pounds! And thanks to a follow-up post from Terry Rust, we now know that Rust’s father met up with Papa Charlie at Guadacanal, placing his military service in the Pacific Theatre, where the action was more often than not very heated and deadly. From all the information available, we could surmise that Papa Charlie proudly served his country as a private. And after surviving the war, he returned to Franklin, where he became known far and wide.

Papa Charlie died Jan. 5, 1969 at the Veterans Hospital in Nashville, following what was described as a brief illness. His funeral service was held at the Franklin Primitive Baptist Church and he was laid to rest at Toussaint L’Overture Cemetery, adjacent to the Mount Hope Cemetery, here in Franklin. I have heard it stated, many times, that Papa Charlie was so large, at the time of his death, that he required a coffin that was customized to fit his unusual requirements. I have also heard it stated that he was buried in a huge wooden box that had been built for shipping pianos to music dealers.

Still today, more than 40 years after his death, I still hear Papa Charlie’s name mentioned from time to time. It came up again last week from a listener on a weekly program at AM-950 WAKM, the Real Estate Roundtable. Every Thursday, Loy Hardcastle and I broadcast the show and talk about the old days of Franklin. One of our listeners wanted to know if we remembered Papa Charlie. We did. And I thought it would be worthwhile to recall this giant man who seemed to be known to everybody! R.I.P. Charlie Cliffe…..or “Papa Charlie” to the countless thousands who have known him!

UPDATE: Since I originally posted this piece, I have been amazed at the response from many native Williamson Countians. I always welcome your comments and any information that you could add to this story. Please send your comments and also stop by to sign my Guest Book while you’re here. Thanks!!

The Real Estate Roundtable 5/10/12

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The Real Estate Roundtable: May 10, 2012

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The Real Estate Roundtable 5/03/12

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The Real Estate Roundtable: May 3, 2012

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The Hometown Radio Show 4/25/12

Cadence “State of the City”

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The Hometown Radio Show: April 25, 2012

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Real Estate Roundtable 4/26/12

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AN OLD-TIME DRINK STAND: AND MY FATHER’S MEMORIES OF THOSE BYGONE DAYS!

Many of us remember setting up a lemonade stand, as a child, and being thrilled with the idea of having our own little business. Most of the time, it was our parents who had really taken on the additional work load. But it was good, clean fun during those formative years!

Recently, I came across the image above, which shows my father, T.H. (Huddy) Alexander Jr., on the left, and his older brother, Dave Alexander, at their little drink stand near the old Belmont University campus in Nashville. This photo was taken in 1929, literally weeks before the Roaring Twenties quickly faded to the desolation of the Great Depression. I guess you could say….accurately, too….that the happy days were about to come to an end, for several reasons for my father: (1) The Great Depression dealt a severe blow to my grandfather, T.H. Alexander, who was a syndicated newspaper columnist. Before Black Friday, October 1929, my grandfather’s column, called “I Reckon So,” was published in almost 50 newspapers all across the south. As the Great Depression worsened, he was left with only two daily papers- The Nashville Tennessean and The Memphis Commercial-Appeal. This naturally changed the household economy, in much the same way as households across the nation were drastically affected; and (2) This was the last summer that my father was able to run and play like all the other little children. The following summer….in 1930….he would contract Infantile Paralysis, more commonly known as Polio, and his life would be forever changed! And by the way, I never heard my father complain about having polio or about any unfair hardships that had been inflicted upon him from the Almighty. Much to the contrary: he was always a very happy person, who managed to live as normal a life as possible and was able to accomplish many great things. He passed away in 1998 and lacked only a month of reaching his 73rd birthday.

But back to the main gist of this story: The drink stand….I love this old pic, and especially the NEHI signage that is so visible. It shows the dancing ladies who were such an icon of those happy days in the Roaring Twenties!

It was cool enough to stumble across this image in some old family family records. But imagine my surprise when I recently discovered my father’s own words describing that old drink stand from the old days. That’s exactly what happened just the other day!

Here….I’ll let him tell you about it, in his own words:

“When I was four years old, in 1929, our family lived on Cedar Lane in Nashville. It was there that my older brother, Dave, came up with the idea of opening a cold drink stand where Cedar Lane intersected with Granny White Pike. He and Ernest White, a friend, bought the lumber and constructed themselves a small stand. They would buy cold drinks, and they would sell them to the passengers in cars and to people who walked by. It seems like more people walked in those days and did not ride in the luxury of the automobile. Anyway, Dave and Ernest would make pretty good money yelling “Cold drinks” while stopping people who passed up and down the street. They also sold lemonade at their stand, which my mother would fix for them.

It was always a real thrill in my young life when Dave would take me to his stand and allow me to stand on the edge of the road and yell “Cold drinks!”…..”Cold drinks for sale!” I felt 10-feet tall! I would beg him everyday to let me go along with him to the drink stand.

Actually, Dave made some money out of his cold drink stand, and he placed his profits in a Nashville bank. Later, after the Depression struck, it was Dave who started a run on the bank where he had his money. At the time, Dave had a little over 30-dollars in savings, and he demanded all of it from the local bank. When the bank was forced to close later that same afternoon, Dave had received his savings money from the drink stand. However, my father wasn’t so fortunate: he lost all the money he had in a checking account, which was almost 5-thousand dollars! I was small, but I remember the Depression very well!”

A final note: Even before I discovered this old photo and my father’s words to describe it, I have always had a weakness to patronize every young drink-stand operator I come across. Maybe it’s the innocence of a first-time childhood business venture or, perhaps, it’s that the young operators always seem to have a clear path to tug on my heartstrings. Either way…..it’s Americana…..no matter what the generation!

The Real Estate Roundtable 4/19/12

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ANNIVERSARY OF TITANIC DISASTER SPAWNS SCARY TALE OF “CLOSE CALL!”

On April 15, 1912….almost exactly 100 years ago…..the world was shocked by the sinking of the Titanic. Not only was the loss of life horrendous, but maritime experts had declared that the Titanic was “unsinkable!”

Not too long ago, I ran across this interesting tidbit, related to the Titanic, which was written by my grandfather, T.H. Alexander, back in 1932. At the time, a small crowd of friends and family members had gathered at the Alexander home in Franklin, and the topic of conversation had turned to tales of ghosts and the unexplained.

Here’s the story, just as it appeared in The NASHVILLE TENNESSEAN on September 18, 1932:

“…Our last story was capped by E.H. Taylor, of Philadelphia, associate editor of The Country Gentleman (former national magazine), who is in the south this week on work for his magazine. He told one of the best ghost tales I’ve ever heard.

This tale has been told, Mr. Taylor said, since 1912 by Freeman Tilden, the short-story writer for the Curtis magazines. Mr. Tilden has distant relatives in England whom he visits occasionally.

In 1912, some 20 years ago, Mr. Tilden was visiting these relatives and was told by an acquaintance that upon every occasion when a member of the family was in danger a shadowy woman in white appeared at the old family castle.

One night on the eve of Mr. Tilden sailing for America he woke up with the feeling that someone was in the room. He glanced towards the center of the room and there stood the shadowy woman in white. She said nothing and disappeared in a moment.

At breakfast the next morning Mr. Tilden told his English cousins of the strange visitation. They appeared interested but said nothing. It seemed to embarrass them.

Tilden was to leave for his train immediately and then embark, but en route the carriage broke down and he missed his train, thus missing his boat.

And the boat he missed was the Titanic!”

************

I can only imagine the reaction this story would have received from the little gathering that night down at Grandaddy’s farmhouse, just outside the city limits at Franklin, Tennessee. But I’ll bet it made some people’s skin crawl!!!

By the way, the subject of this story- Freeman Tilden- went on to become famous for writing about our national parks here in the United States. In fact, his work is still considered THE source about the National Park Service and its mission. And to think: this work might not have survived had Tilden not encountered the family ghost in England and, instead, sailed out of port on the most famous ship of all times: the Titanic!

 

 

The Real Estate Roundtable 4/05/12

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The Hometown Radio Show 3/30/12

Discussing the Marty Robbins Book with the author, Diane Diekman.

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You can purchase this book at its lowest price using the link below: