FRYING PAN SOBRIETY
For those of you who did not know my Dad he was a rounder. He loved beer, wild women, and Honky Tonks. He was definitely not the marring kind. I often wondered why Mother stayed with him over 50 years.
I had long moved to Nashville and my little brother was married. Little Brother called and told me Dad was in jail again. He was gonna let him spend the night and then take him home.
The story goes he had gone for a beer in Wilson county and was about to pass out so he stopped the big red Plymouth on the side of the road. Big mistake. A state trooper pulled up to check if anything was wrong and when he pulled along side the Plymouth, Dad woke up and threw gravels all over the cop's car. At that point, Dad's over activity imagination made him think himself Richard Petty on a track home to win the race.
Every police car in Wilson county could not catch him and then Smith county troopers joined the chase. Alas, just like an unlucky nascar driver he blew his engine before he could make the driveway.
In horrid Mother watched them handcuff him and off to jail he was taken. She had endured his bad behavior for years and she was feed up with it.
She never told any of us kids what happen when Little Brother brought Dad home the next morning. Dad told Little Brother and he got down in the floor laughing at him which made Dad huff " It is not funny". Little Brother only laughed harder.
As Dad had told Little Brother, Mother was waiting for him behind the front door with an iron skillet in hand. She hit him as soon as he came into the room and continued to hit him. He was bruised rather badly per Little Brother. But all the time she was hitting him she was saying " I have put up with this for years and it stops now or -------.
I think she got the message across that drinking was not allowed ever again. He never touched a drop afterwards and he was a whole different person when he died.
The Kitty Justice is that we children would have never known of frying pan sobriety unless Dad had not told off on himself.