"GET OUT OF THE TURNIPS" OR "THE 16 CELL CHROME FLASHLIGHT"
By Garry Tidler
It was a warm night in October when a group of boys from the neighborhood decided to steal some turnips from old man Ertel's garden. Brother Goon was one of those boys who were a lot taller than he was smart but he was a good basketball player so that made up for it.
In our neighborhood to be a "Brother" meant one thing, you weren�t Catholic. Although Brother Goon had probably been Baptist two or three times at the local Baptist Church during Vacation Bible School, I don't believe it ever took.
Little Donnie Carter was a good kid to have around. Whenever we wondered if something was safe or not we would have Donnie try it first. Besides he could pee all the way across Buck Creek and that aint bad.
The older boys left out to steal turnips but me and little ole Donnie Carter didn't go with them.
We decided to have fun at their expense. My dad had a 16 cell chrome flashlight which we kids were not allowed to touch but that didn't stop us from sneaking it out of the house to hunt night crawlers or for some other important reason.
We followed the other boys at a distance with the flashlight in hand. We gave them time to settle in to the fine art of stealing turnips. Little ole Donnie Carter slammed old man Ertel's back door and I turned on the 16 cell chrome flashlight and we both yelled in the lowest voice we could muster, "GET OUT OF THEM TURNIPS". That 16 cell chrome flashlight lit up the night like high noon. Brother Goon and the other boys froze in place like they expected old man Ertel to open up with his double barrel 12 gauge shotgun. After what seemed an eternity Brother Goon and the others lit out with me and little old Donnie Carter in hot pursuit. They headed east away from home to throw old man Ertel off of their trail. Little old Donnie Carter and me stayed right with them. They rounded the old Third Ward School and headed towards home with Brother Goon in the lead. One boy lived on the alley between North and Armstrong on East Street. His parents were sitting on the porch when they came running by. They called him back home and were asking him what kind of trouble they were in and who was chasing them. He said they had done nothing wrong and no one was chasing them. But with that 16 cell chrome flashlight coming down the alley, they didn't believe him. When he seen it was me and little ole Donnie Carter, all he could say was you "idiots". (Actually it was another word but this sounds nicer)
The other boys continued to run towards home with Brother Goon still in the lead, right through Kinder�s coal yard.
At home dad and mom were watching "Boston Blackie" on a 9 inch television. He was on a roof chasing the bad guys. Dad was the type to Hoosier Engineer about everything. The antenna was in the yard fastened to a fence post with the lead in wire about six feet off the ground.
Brother Goon ran through our yard and caught the lead in wire under his chin. He wasn't about to stop with old man Ertel in hot pursuit. He drug the 9 inch television across the living room floor with dad in hot pursuit and cussing like only a railroader could. The last I seen of Brother Goon that night, he was heading north down the railroad tracks.
If dad had only known that his 16 cell chrome flashlight caused all of this, I would never hear the end of it. That was the last time little old Donnie Carter and me ever snuck it out of the house.
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