Where is Lulawissie?

It's Right Here.

A Lulawissie Ivory Bill Woodpecker on my pecan tree
A Lulawissie Ivory Bill Woodpecker on my pecan tree | Source

Heaven? No, It's Lulawissie.

Lulawissie Township has quite a large number of civic organizations for such a small population. It would appear that with such a small population, that everyone in the community would belong to at least one club. And it is quite possibly true that is the case. For example, I belong to the Catholic Men’s Charity Organization, the Optimists and the G.L. R & G.C. G.A. & B.S. (The Greater Lulawissie Rod and Gun Club, Gentlemen’s Association and Benevolent Society). We call it the “Benevolent Society” or just “B.S.” for short, and we meet at the “social club” just outside the city limits. Other clubs in the town consist of the Lions Club, of course, The Ladies Temperance Guild and Social Sewing Circle, The Boy Scouts (and if you have been following this story, the Scouts are the Lions Club) and the Organization for Southern Resurrection, or the “OSR”. The OSR is a group of rowdy young men, and a few old ones that are hell bent on the point that “The South Will Rise Again” and have their own version of “The War of Northern Aggression”. They meet every 2nd Friday night out at Vista Point, drink Jack Daniels, wave rebel flags and shoot guns at the island. It seemed funny to learn that many of the members of the OSR are also members of the Baptist Men’s Charity Organization.

I am reminded of a softball Game one summer Saturday afternoon between the Catholics Men’s Charity Organization and their Baptist counterparts. It was pretty iffy if the Baptist team was going to show up because of the fact that the majority of them were still hung over from shooting up the island the night before. When they finally arrived, they were short a third baseman, and had to send someone down to the Vista Point Beach to wake him up. His wife happily volunteered to retrieve him and we could hear her yelling at him from the ball field. Once the team was assembled, the Baptist preacher, the Rev. Lonnie Gault, offered the game’s benediction, chastising his team in prayer as he spoke. But as luck would have it, the Ladies Temperance Guild and Sewing Circle was present at the game, and the majority of them were sitting on our side of the field because they did not want to give the impression of rooting for a bunch of drunks, not having a clue that we had two huge ice chests full of beer in our dugout.

By the second inning, it was obvious that our senses and reactions had become dulled by the contents of our ice chests, and we were playing terribly. The Baptist team quickly caught on to this, and instead of trying to win the game, they were trying to figure out how to get into our dugout without being seen by the crowd, let alone Rev. Gault. It became too obvious that soon upon every fielding play the Baptists made, they over threw the ball to their first baseman so that it would roll into our dugout. Once the ball was in there, the entire team would chase it, grabbing a beer in the process and quickly chugging it down. This went on for about 8 plays in succession until neither team had any more interest in the game, and both teams just stayed in the Catholic dugout getting soused.

Well, they say that all good things must end, and this situation was no different. Rev. Gault had gotten a glimpse of what was going in our dugout, and trotted briskly across the infield and began quoting scripture and scolding us for our inebriated state. “Where is Father Mike?!” He shouted. “Is he aware of these….these transgressions?” A gravelly voice spoke up from the dark end of the dugout, and Father Mike climbed out from beneath a pile of sports equipment. “Did you wish to speak to me, Reverend?” he slurred, as he popped the top on another can of Old Milwaukee.

“May God have mercy on all of you….” The Reverend walked away. We all looked at each other, as if we were ashamed of ourselves, then someone said “Who was that?” We immediately burst into laughter and started drinking all over again.

Such good times.

Ah, but the civic groups in our township are for the most part, a very generous and benevolent bunch of people. There is always a fund somewhere to help the less fortunate, or a food drive for the needy. Nothing makes a person feel better than knowing that his or her tireless efforts are helping someone or some family that badly needs it.

Our Birdwatcher Society has graciously offered up a $1000.00 prize for anyone that can successfully photograph our pair of Ivory Billed Woodpeckers in the nest together to prove that they are a mating pair. It seems that there is a famous Northern University that is willing to pay $10,000 for the location of a mating pair of these critters, and it seems like an easy way to make $9000 for their club. That will buy a lot of bird whistles and binoculars, folks. I see these birds all the time just outside my window, and I have taken a few pictures of them, but their nest is across the lake in Malone’s Cove, in a very isolated and remote location. Good Luck!

Well, I guess that’s it for now. The weather bug on my computer is flashing, warning me of an approaching storm. I can see the distant flashes of lightning out of my window, but we still have a starry night above, reminiscent of Van Gogh’s timeless masterpiece. It was a good day in Lulawissie. I’m sure that tomorrow will be another one. That’s all we have here, a man can lose his sense of reality living in a place like this.

Until we meet again…

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