Memories of Old Josh, in: The Hanging of Amos..." ((Episode: #39)(forth Series))
Memories of Old Josh, in:
The Hanging of Amos, of Stone Bridge
((forth Series) (#39))
The Hanging of Amos Jackson, of Ozark, Alabama,
1883 (From the shantytown of Stone Bridge
Amos was born in Ozark, Alabama, lived in back of the cemetery, he often worked for Silas, Old Josh’s boy, in picking cotton for Mr. Hightower. There was a shantytown of sorts there, where huts, where the main building structures, and Amos’ hut was built right into the side of a hill. There were old dirt roads that lead into the shantytown, one in particular, had an old stone bridge on it, thus, that is how the town got its name, in 1863, “Stone Bridge,” the confederate military had built it, for a quick runaway incase the Union soldiers were chasing them: this way they could lose them in the chase.
Most of the shantytown was built out of sticks and stones, wood thrown away in Ozark, dragged all the way out to Stone Bridge by horse and car, or donkey or cart, or mule or cart, and even some on the back of Negros.
It was the year of 1883; the summer heat was getting to everybody. Wild was Ozark, and its youth.
Most of the folks that lived in the shantytown threw their garbage over into the cemetery, and that was the hideous odor folks talked about, when they rode by the cemetery, sniffing it like dogs, and telling jokes in the saloons in Ozark about it coming from the huts of the Negros, thus creating discontent among the masses.
Hence, it was on a hot evening, prior to dusk, several young white bucks from Ozark, came riding through the shantytown, of Stone Bridge, creating havoc.
You might say, Old Amos, was similar in ways, like Old Josh, but perhaps a less wiser; but he had Josh’s temper if anything, and liked a good argument, no hair as they say, on the tongue—during such times either. And as these young bucks trotted through the shantytown, whisky jugs in one hand, pistols in tucked into their pants, behind their belts, against their stomachs, a reins in the other hand, drunk they were and they all started to make advances towards the back young woman, and Amos say one the white boys, leaning against a hut, with Ashley in his arms tightly around her waist. He had a jug of moonshine in his left hand.
Without any more a due, he walked up to the white boy, grabbed the jug of whiskey from him, splashed it all over his face, getting it into his eyes, thus, he let go of Ashley, and she ran down the road, across Stone Bridge, and that was the last he saw of her for the night. But the boy was upset, and Amos, simply sat down on a huge rock, and laugh, drinking the white boy’s whiskey.
A few minutes must had passed, when Amos got up off that old rock and started to find his way out of the shantytown, it was vacant now, everyone had run across the bridge and were hiding.
There was a gun shot, its blast of energy passed old Amos’ ear, scared him so, he fell flat on his face, right there in the center of the dirt road, in the middle of the shantytown, and when he looked up, there were several white faces, facing him, it was now twilight. (The Bullet had left a tingle in his ear, so he couldn’t hear clearly what the boys were saying.)
That night, the boys tied Amos with a rope around his shoulders, and one around his neck, and hung him on a wooden gallows they had build sometime ago, thus, he did not die fast at all, it was slow. And Josh, daily went down to see him, and on the third day, Josh not able to save him, or watch him die any longer, cut the rope around his shoulders, and as a result, his body fell a half foot, just enough to where the first rope around his neck strangled him to death (his Tombstone read, born 1803, died, 1883). His son, Amos Lee Stonewall Jackson, born 1860, died 1911, was there to take his body down on the forth day.
Written 2-20-2008/at Starbucks, Lima, Peru
The Hanging of Amos, of Stone Bridge
((forth Series) (#39))
The Hanging of Amos Jackson, of Ozark, Alabama,
1883 (From the shantytown of Stone Bridge
Amos was born in Ozark, Alabama, lived in back of the cemetery, he often worked for Silas, Old Josh’s boy, in picking cotton for Mr. Hightower. There was a shantytown of sorts there, where huts, where the main building structures, and Amos’ hut was built right into the side of a hill. There were old dirt roads that lead into the shantytown, one in particular, had an old stone bridge on it, thus, that is how the town got its name, in 1863, “Stone Bridge,” the confederate military had built it, for a quick runaway incase the Union soldiers were chasing them: this way they could lose them in the chase.
Most of the shantytown was built out of sticks and stones, wood thrown away in Ozark, dragged all the way out to Stone Bridge by horse and car, or donkey or cart, or mule or cart, and even some on the back of Negros.
It was the year of 1883; the summer heat was getting to everybody. Wild was Ozark, and its youth.
Most of the folks that lived in the shantytown threw their garbage over into the cemetery, and that was the hideous odor folks talked about, when they rode by the cemetery, sniffing it like dogs, and telling jokes in the saloons in Ozark about it coming from the huts of the Negros, thus creating discontent among the masses.
Hence, it was on a hot evening, prior to dusk, several young white bucks from Ozark, came riding through the shantytown, of Stone Bridge, creating havoc.
You might say, Old Amos, was similar in ways, like Old Josh, but perhaps a less wiser; but he had Josh’s temper if anything, and liked a good argument, no hair as they say, on the tongue—during such times either. And as these young bucks trotted through the shantytown, whisky jugs in one hand, pistols in tucked into their pants, behind their belts, against their stomachs, a reins in the other hand, drunk they were and they all started to make advances towards the back young woman, and Amos say one the white boys, leaning against a hut, with Ashley in his arms tightly around her waist. He had a jug of moonshine in his left hand.
Without any more a due, he walked up to the white boy, grabbed the jug of whiskey from him, splashed it all over his face, getting it into his eyes, thus, he let go of Ashley, and she ran down the road, across Stone Bridge, and that was the last he saw of her for the night. But the boy was upset, and Amos, simply sat down on a huge rock, and laugh, drinking the white boy’s whiskey.
A few minutes must had passed, when Amos got up off that old rock and started to find his way out of the shantytown, it was vacant now, everyone had run across the bridge and were hiding.
There was a gun shot, its blast of energy passed old Amos’ ear, scared him so, he fell flat on his face, right there in the center of the dirt road, in the middle of the shantytown, and when he looked up, there were several white faces, facing him, it was now twilight. (The Bullet had left a tingle in his ear, so he couldn’t hear clearly what the boys were saying.)
That night, the boys tied Amos with a rope around his shoulders, and one around his neck, and hung him on a wooden gallows they had build sometime ago, thus, he did not die fast at all, it was slow. And Josh, daily went down to see him, and on the third day, Josh not able to save him, or watch him die any longer, cut the rope around his shoulders, and as a result, his body fell a half foot, just enough to where the first rope around his neck strangled him to death (his Tombstone read, born 1803, died, 1883). His son, Amos Lee Stonewall Jackson, born 1860, died 1911, was there to take his body down on the forth day.
Written 2-20-2008/at Starbucks, Lima, Peru
posted by Dennis and Rosa Siluk at 8:29 PM
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