My great-grandparents, Joe "Pop" and Bonnie "Gaugy" Hudson, lived in Fulton. Pop "worked in the woods" for Scotch, and Gaugy worked in Fulton for Dr. Jack Dozier. Their youngest daughter, Joan "Nanny," is my grandmother, and she was a single parent to my dad. They lived in Fairhope and Mobile, but my dad made it his goal every week as long as he can remember to get to Fulton and spend the weekend with his grandparents, cousins, and friends. My Aunt Maxine Fendley told me that he would say "It's not long 'til Friday, but it's a long time 'til Sunday." Daddy loved Fulton and still does. Even after moving to Fulton for good after getting his diploma, Daddy said that he would sometimes dream on Sunday nights that he was on his way back to Mobile to live his weekday life there. He would awaken in a panic, only to be relieved that he was in Fulton for good.
I love Fulton, too, for the same and a few other reasons. My parents have lived in Fulton since before I was born. I have lived here my entire life, with the exception of the ten years I was in Mobile and Orlando. I love Fulton because it is my home, it's where my memories were made, and because of Scotch. The lumber company is now under different ownership, but it will always be Scotch Lumber Company to me. The plywood mill is still Scotch Plywood Company. Daddy worked in the sawmill until serveral years after I was out of college. Fulton comes alive about 5am during the week. There are lights, steam, log trucks, and workers changing shifts. I swear that Fulton and Highway 178 are busier early in the morning than Airport Boulevard. I love those sights, sounds, and the smell of pine.
When my brother and I were too young to tell time, we would be playing in Gaugy's yard or riding bikes in the neighborhood. The 11:30 whistle would blow, and we knew that Daddy would be home soon to eat the feast of a lunch Gaugy cooked for us every day. Before that, we lived in the house behind the log yard where Mrs. Sharon Hicks lives now. Daddy would tell me that he was going to put me in his pocket and take me to work with him. I definitely would have taken him up on that! When I lived in Mobile as a young adult, we had a deck added to the house. I was asked how I liked it. I verbalized my first thought- "it smells like Fulton!"
For years, my brother and I would look for Daddy's truck parked at the far north end in front of Scotch's office. At first, it was a blue Ford, then a red Chevy, off of which he drove many mufflers, lol. We would look for his blue hard hat under the mill when our mom drove us to the store. After school, we would sit on the front porch and wait on his truck to come across the bridge. I have no idea how, but he always had the time and energy to play with us, then do what seemed like hours of homework. If it was basketball season, we shot hoops and did endless drills. During softball season, he hit hundreds of grounders to me on third, and I threw them to Jared on first. He would pitch to me, too. Poor Jared was always on defense, covering the whole field. We also had backyard football and baseball games with the neighborhood kids. We had go carts and four wheelers, too. We always had fun. He even convinced us that it was fun to put polyethylene under the house. I remember doing that when I was probably in third grade and pretending I was a tunnel rat in Vietnam.
Daddy taught us the value of hard work and how to do it. My mom had a hand in all of this, too, but this is his retirement. He taught us how to think, troubleshoot, make wise decisions, and handle pressure. He taught us how to be good employees, and to treat the lowest man on the totem pole with the same respect as the owner. Even in my 40s, I often find myself thinking "I'm so glad he taught us that" as situations arise. I've blogged before about how he taught us to work, save, tithe, etc. That cancelled the chance of our having a sense of entitlement, and I am so thankful. He taught us to be courteous of others, and to be dependable.
My dad has worked 49 years in hot, dusty wood products mills to provide for his family. We've not been spoiled, but we've always had more than we needed. We've been thankful, and still are. My parents sacrificed for many years to provide us with a good life and education. He still goes to my house every day at lunch and after work to see about my animals before I get home. We may have to make new Friday breakfast plans, though, since we have had Friday breakfast together since I moved back in 2009.
If Jared were here, I know that he would agree with me when I say that we are so thankful for our hardworking, loving parents. So, if you see Daddy cruising in the Shelby, fishing, playing with the dogs and cats, riding his new bicycle, listening to 60s music, serving his church family and community, or just being lazy, know that he earned it- whether through 49 years of hard work, or because my mom has had enough and got him out of her hair for a few hours!
Photos by Melanie Andress
