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Saturday, December 22, 2018

Henry Belk's 'Seen and Heard Around the Streets of Monroe' 1918

From The Monroe Journal, Dec. 20, 1918

Seen and Heard Around the Streets of Monroe

By Henry Belk

Said a Monroe man the other day “The War Department did the proper thing in deciding that soldiers should be allowed to retain their uniforms.” Proceeding he related how the old Confederate veterans regarded their uniforms as one of their most cherished possessions, and how some of them requested that they be buried in them. In later years, said one man, the soldiers will organize as did the Confederate veterans, and then they will want their uniforms. There are families in the county today who still have the uniforms of some departed kinsman and guard it as one of the family treasures. And now that the War Department has decided that the soldiers shall be allowed to retain their uniforms, the khaki shall be placed beside the gray.

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In light of recent events, wonder if Doctor Hale, the newspaper man reported to have been in the pay of the German government, feels very hale and hearty and if Mr. Hearst doesn’t feel rather funereal.

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And now trouble is brewing for China, the breweries of the United States having been shut down one of the King Brewers of California announces that in a few days he will sail for China, where he will build a $2 million brewery that shall brew beer for the teeming millions of yellow men.

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Monroe men no longer to into a grocery store and purchasing a dozen eggs pay for them with change in their pocket; they write a check.

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“Take him for all in all, we shall not look upon his like again,” said a Monroe man Saturday, quoting Shakespeare to describe Mr. W.J. Pratt, who died suddenly Thursday night. As the people think in their hearts regarding a man so is he, usually, Mr. Pratt’s place in the hearts of the people of Union County can not be filled by another.

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Liquor, monkey rum, mokum and other intoxicating concoctions from the foundation for many a story and also many a murder. Liquor is the foundation on which this story is laid. A graveyard composes the framework. Two men from the lower part of the County came to Monroe in the days when every man drank. After they had assimilated a little more of the fire-water than they could walk straight with, they started home as the shades of night were falling. Their journey carried them by the negro church Zion, about seven miles west of town. Adjacent to this church is the usual graveyard. Now as the two men approached this graveyard they suddenly decided that they would show how little they regarded the spirits of the departed by inviting them out for a friendly chat. So approaching, one of them called out “Now, if there are any haints in there come out, we want to make your acquaintance.” 

A few hours previous to the arrival of the men at the church, a negro from South Carolina, on his way to visit relatives in this county, had lost his way and crawled under the church for protection from the elements to spend the night. Disturbed from his slumber by the sound of the men calling, he raised himself on one elbow and demanded “Who dat?”

The men who were anxious to make the acquaintance of the spirits were a little taken back at this but at length decided that the stuff they were drinking must have been of a bad grade and that their ears were playing them false. So one of them called again, “You haints come on out now we want to see you.”

The name of the negro under the church was Henry. Mistaking the word haint for Henry he called out, “Yassah. I’s comin’, Boss.”

Needless to relate the men didn’t wait for his arrival, and report has it that the saloon keepers of Monroe lost two good customers from the incident.

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