From: Farabee G. L. (Red). 1976. The Blessed Depression of the ’30s. New York: Vantage.
The Dumb Bells
After spring cleared the Alabama air and the hot summer began to make things hot and sticky, new entertainment was planned by the Farabee gang. The hot nights made it almost impossible for anyone in the town of Altoona to sleep. The location of Altoona was between two mountains. These mountains provided the only means of making a living for the working families. Coal was dug from many places under the mountains.
There were also many miles of mines dug into those mountains. Altoona lay quiet and peaceful in the huge valley. In fact, it was too peaceful for us boys. We gathered together and began to make a gadget to attract the attention of all in the valley. First we located a hollow log and cut off a piece approximately three or four feet long. The inside hollow was about five inches wide. On one end we stretched a piece of rawhide or cowhide and let it dry in place. It was extremely tight. In the center of this rawhide we cut a small hole and drew a heavy rawhide string through, waxing it well with bees-wax. This heavy string would come from the inside log, but it was long enough to extend through the four-foot log.
After approximately two weeks of telling people around town of a circus wagon breaking down on the road to Birmingham and of how many animals escaped and how few were captured, Altoona was ripe for something different.
On one hot night we divided our gang and some made it across town with one of the “dumb bulls.” (This project was kept more secret than our Pentagon Papers in Washington.) About an hour later we heard the most weird and frightening noise we had ever heard on the other mountain. I knew what it was and I was ready to run. A few minutes later, we answered it with our female. Cold chills ran down our spines as waxed fingers were drawn down the rawhide string. Any kind of screams and roars could be made with some practice.
As these animals called and answered each other, I could see the lights down in Altoona turning off. Some brave fellows would turn on lights to make a quick check on how close the wild animals were to their house. The most vicious coon hounds bumped their heads far back under the floors of the mining camp houses.
We put Altoona to bed early that night, but not to sleep. At daylight everyone was talking about what it could have been and where it had gone. That same day some decided to get the mayor to pass a new decree that if anyone was caught doing anything uncommon, such as operating notorious noisemakers, they would go to jail. This caused much confusion. Good dogs were ruined. Horses got scared and broke out of stables and barns, Children were afraid to go to sleep, and wives were afraid to stay alone while their men worked.
We left the “dumb bulls” in an old abandoned mine, where they were found later by hunters. Soon all the animals were recaptured and Altoona was safe again.
Good, clean excitement does not have to be expensive–just well-planned and executed.
NOTE: Unfortunately, Farabee does not record what year this event took place, or what decree the mayor passed. However, Ordinance #10 outlawed roman candles, fire crackers, toy pistols and and fire arms in Altoona (November 16, 1917). The same day, a general penal ordinance (Ordinance #11) was passed as well.
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