Although there are similarities in some of the personalities of Andrews and Mayberry, it is just the down-home atmosphere in the life of a small town that makes it special. When I was growing up in the 1960s everyone knew everybody. Neighbors would show up to help each other plow their garden in the spring and help plant those long rows of corn, or to help plow out potatoes and gather them in the fall. And they still do that today.
For those of you fortunate enough to have known Purel Miller, the memory of him plowing gardens with his faithful mule, Pat, around town was a moment suspended in time. But the sound of his deep rich voice singing “Swing Low Sweet Chariot” and “Amazing Grace” would take your breath away. It was the most spiritual witness of faith that you can imagine. I am sure he is singing in the presence of God today.
Several people have asked that I tell the funny story again about Purel and his brother “T.D.” I interviewed Purell in 1995 and he said, “T.D. had bought a mule and kept him in my pasture and when he put “Bob” up and he would slide the gap bar across the gate and go home. In just a little bit the mule would be out of the pasture and T.D. thought I was turning the mule out for devilment.”
They got to watching the mule after Purel claimed he was innocent, and it seemed that old “Bob” had learned a new trick. The mule would lie down right beside the gate and scoot back far enough to roll under the fence. They found out later that old “Bob” had been in the circus.
One of the favorite teachers who taught at Andrews High School was Sam Webb. He taught Drivers Education, and the students just could not wait to get the chance to drive. He was also over the Valley Drive-In Theatre, and he and Mickey Griggs worked the ticket booth. Many of you remember turning in at the drive-in with a carload full of kids. Sam would grin a little and holler “How many?” I guess he meant how many are showing because several of the local boys always had a few in the truck.
Valley Drive-in Theatre was owned by P.J. Henn from Murphy, and he actually hired Purel Miller and Nick Nichols to build the drive-in. It was so much fun driving up and down the lanes trying to pick out a place to park and test your skills at how close you could get to the speaker pole. The guys with the really hot cars would drive through several times, just to make sure everyone saw it.
For those of you who do not remember the drive-in, it was located about where the traffic light is today on the four-lane and the old airport road just below the two-story Webb home with all the steps in the front. You could always tell the ones who slipped in across the river, their pants were wet up to their knees and they dripped on the floor in the popcorn line.
And there was always the tight-wad who drove in the exit lane with his lights off after the ticket booth closed for the night. He is the one today who knows how the movie ended, but doesn’t have a clue how it started.
As I sit at the traffic light on the four-lane where the drive-in used to be, I can almost hear the laughter, the honking horns when the film broke, the sad movie tears and the lover’s quarrels. But like Valley River, time rolls by, and we know not where it goes.
Kandy Barnard is a columnist for the Cherokee Scout. To talk about the Andrews Valley, call her at 361-3268 or email kandybarnard@gmail.com.