The year was 1963.
He and his friends were at the local bar drinking.
He told all his friends that he had been out Frog Gigging that night.
Frog Gigging is something that we Southerners proudly do from time to time. We don’t even have to be taught by our Father about how to do it. It’s built into our DNA. I could take you out tonight. —…And I haven’t been in over thirty years.
I digress.
“Got over thirty frogs in the trunk of the car!” He tells the fellas. “Come over this Friday, and we’ll fry ’em up.”
During this period, people would drink and people would drive.
There was no such thing as a “Designated Driver.”
There were no ads in the Newspaper about not drinking and driving.
The man telling me this story says, “We knew it was wrong. But it’s what you did.” He continued, “Heck, Officers would follow you home to make sure you got home safe back then. They’d even drive you home if they had to. It was a different time…”
But this night would turn out to be different.
After knocking back a good bit of “Jack,” he pays his tab and heads to his car.
A mile from his home, he gets pulled over.
This particular officer isn’t the type to give anyone a ride home or spend his time following anyone home. The man, who shall remain nameless, gets into an altercation with the officer. —”Jack Daniels” will do that to a guy.
He says to me, “The next thing I remember is getting thrown into the backseat of his squad car, and somehow I was handcuffed…”
He spent the night in jail.
His wife came to post bail and get her husband out the next day.
See, she had to get the money together. It wasn’t cheap.
So, he stayed behind bars for the night and most of the next day.
“Where’s my car?” the man asks the officer at the front desk.
“It was impounded. You have to pay to get it out.”
They pay to get the car out of the impound and make their way to the car.
It’s hot in Alabama in August. Very hot. We call it “The dog days of Summer.”
“What is that godawful smell?” Asks his wife.
“Oh no, no, no, no.” He falls to his knees.
He turns to his wife, looks up, and says, “Honey, I know you’re mad at me already. Please don’t get madder.”
…And they open the trunk…
