Ray 6

I could hardly sleep Thursday night thinking about all I had on the agenda for Friday. The 3 X 5 index cards containing phone numbers, names, and ideas were neatly stored on the nightstand beside the bed when I turned the lights out and tossed and turned trying to drift off. Not only would I be looking for Ray, but I would be scouting for a pulpwood truck to purchase. I've wanted one for decades, now I have a few bills stashed away, and I'm ready to buy.

Friday morning, I left the house at 7:30 and headed for North Carrollton where the area pastors of all denominations gather to drink coffee, tell lies, and eat good breakfast. One preacher told some elaborate tale of a watermelon thief who almost got caught, chased out of a melon patch while carrying one under each arm and a huge one balanced on top of his head. 

After he finished and we all laughed, I asked him if he "would tell that if Jesus was standing right there?"

He was quiet a few seconds and then responded: "Well, I might take that watermelon off the top of his head."

While there, I talked to Jack Marshall, a Methodist pastor who has three churches on Highway 17. Years ago that road was a bastion of pulpwood trucks. If there were any still in that area, he would know. He told me about one between Carrollton and Blackhawk, and he told me to pay especial attention at Acona. 

I also asked Eddie Carpenter, a Baptist pastor who seems to know every road in the county and most of the people. He gave me one name, BooJack, and some vivid directions of where to search.

When I left North Carrollton Baptist Church that morning, I decided to first search for BooJack. I followed Eddie's directions and although I never found the man, I abandoned the search after I was convinced there was no pulpwood truck on County Road 53.

Next I drove to Winona. Someone told me about a timber company there and I found it just to the right, just off Highway 82 and one block from Highway 51 as you are about to depart the town on the east side.

I stopped and went inside. I heard a man's voice boom from the back saying, "Who's there?"

"Me," I answered.

"Who's me?"

"Zane Hodge," I said as I heard his footsteps coming my way.

A forty-something man came around the corner of a hallway, stopped a few feet away, and looked me dead in the eye.

"Does anybody still buy short wood? I'm looking for a wood yard that buys short wood. I'm also looking for an old-fashioned pulpwood truck. And a man. Ray Azal." I looked at him pleadingly.

He spouted out a name and a telephone number which I dutifully wrote on a 3 X 5. I can't put my hand on the card right now, but this fellow, while he chewed on a cigar, told me this other fellow had a wood yard at Eskrige and that if anyone knew the answer to any of those three questions, this would be my guy.

After my thanks, I went out the door, cranked my truck to get the air going, and immediately placed the call. To my surprise, Mr. Eskridge Wood Yard man answered his phone, took my questions, and told me no to all three. "But I will look around and ask around and give you a call if I come up with anything."

I left on 51 and found the Vaiden Timber Company in that little town. I went inside and started asking questions. "What do you need a pulpwood truck for?" By now that question was becoming familiar, as was my answer.

"Trust me. Needs got nothing to do with it."

He told me no one buys short wood. He never heard of Ray although he did know Ezell. He said, just like the last fellow, that he had not seen a pulpwood truck in years. Then before I left, he said, "Roy Blackmon. If anybody still has a short wood truck it will be him." He gave me a phone number and told me Roy lived on Cedar Hill Ranch Road off Highway 17. I thanked him and left. Destination, Duck Hill, to the wood yard.

At Duck Hill, I found myself peering through a set of bars into a dark and cluttered office at a man sitting in a chair and loading his bottom lip full of Skoal. I used to do that back in the day. "Man, what do you need with a pulpwood truck?" he asked incredulously.

"Sir, need has nothing to do with it."

He hadn't seen a pulpwood truck in years. He did know Ezell. He did not know Ray or anyone still buying short wood. But he did give me a few tips. "South. Armstrong Timber. I think it's down around Morton or somewhere down there. If anyone buys short wood, he will or he will know who does."

Although the guy at Vaiden had not mentioned Terry, I remembered the wood yard there from 2003 when my hobby was taking pictures of the old ragged trucks that came in there to swap theirs loads for money. At Terry, the man in the office almost shouted, "What the heck do you need a pulpwood truck for!?"

"It's not a matter of need. It's a matter of want."

He gave me a look that said, he didn't understand. No one does. So I thanked him and drove away, back towards Greenwood, but I took all sorts of back roads on the way and stayed half lost most of the afternoon. I had not checked Highway 17 or Ray Blackmon. Since those are so close to home, I can check it our before next Friday. I was not discouraged. After talking with several people, you could say I struck out, but I say I marked some places and people off my list. I now knew where NOT to look.