Mailbag

I had several emails, phone calls and personal interactions concerning the Country Boy Store column, previous columns and ideas for future visits. We'll start with the constructive criticism:

Tim Killebrew (I'm sorry if this name spelling is incorrect, but Mr. Killebrew did not leave a phone number at which to contact him in my message, which was transferred to me from a different New Era phone) told me that I should have mentioned the real location of the store. Although I did say the store was between Gracey and Herndon, he said I should have mentioned that the store is actually in Newstead.

While I did mention that the store is several hundred feet from the former Newstead train depot, Mr. Killebrew is quite right, I did not mention specifically that the store is in Newstead. My apologies.

I received an email from Susan Perdue Hughes, saying she enjoyed the goat island story I had a few weeks ago and wanted to know how to find the island. She asked for vehicle or boat directions, and had trouble locating it on her Lake Barkley State Resort Park map.

Ms. Hughes, I had trouble finding the island as well. However, I did have a simple map from the park office that showed goat island. It's approximately two or three miles from the park lodge, to the right of the lodge if you are looking out at the lake from the balcony. It won't be the first island you come across, but it will be the biggest. Even once I found it though, I really wasn't certain it was the island until I actually saw a goat.

Lastly, I had an email from Nora Spinaio that said she enjoyed the country boy column, but wondered if my Mom liked her present or knew what it was. This letter came before my Mom's response in the blog yesterday, but I'll summarize: yes, she did enjoy the gift, but we're both still trying to figure out exactly what it is or how she's going to use it!

Ms. Spinaio also suggested I visit the Lighthouse of Crofton Assembly of God. She said it's one of those little churches found all over the south, and the fellowship hall is almost finished being repaired.

I had never heard of the church before your suggestion, Ms. Spinaio, but I will ask around, look into and who knows, maybe it will be in a column in the not-too-distant future.

Thanks again to everyone who sends emails, calls in or speaks with me personally about my columns. I really appreciate and value any and all feedback!

Tomorrow I'll give a preview of some future column sites, and give a hint as to where I'll be for this coming Monday's column.

Dave's mom responds to her gift from the Country Boy Store

Mom was happy not to get a battle ax

Helen Boucher, mother of Staff Writer Dave Boucher, responds to her gift and the column Dave wrote about the experience. 

The Country Boy Stores column was, in itself, a gift for me, as is every article David writes. He pours his heart and soul into each piece and in reading his articles, it’s like sharing a part of his everyday life. I could feel the horse breathing underneath me when Dave wrote about his rodeo experience. I laughed when Dave didn’t know how to steer the boat that he used to get to Goat Island. I was stumbling through the crowded Country Boy Store with him when he went in search of a birthday gift for me! I love to read what David writes because it means he’s right here with me in Michigan and not so far away.

The poem that Dave wrote for his Dad and me was absolutely the best! I wish I could have been with my husband when he read the poem. He’s a pretty tough guy but I know it made him teary-eyed. I just unabashedly cried when I read it.

As far as the “hanging basket thing” goes, I love it! And I’m thankful it’s not a battle ax or a camo jacket!

Thanks Mom for the nice letter! I'll post and respond to more of some of my recent feedback to the column on the blog tomorrow.

A different perspective

 Staff Writer Ben Joubert, another Michigan man, provides his account of what struck him about the Country Boy Store

I am in the same boat as Dave. A fellow Michigander we both are interested in the unique quality of the rural Kentucky community. Even so, unlike Dave, I am slightly more at home on the back country roads of Kentucky.  I grew up in the small town of Charlotte on a nice plot of land surrounded by Amish farmers and rocky dirt roads that seemingly led to nowhere. A quaint store was stationed just across the street from my house and sold anything from soda and candy to gasoline at an exorbitant price to unlucky drivers who happened to find themselves in the middle of nowhere with an arrow dangerously hovering around E.

But Charlotte was no Kentucky. I thought I had the South pegged and figured out when I got used to older men calling me “son” and women my own age (early 20s) calling me “baby” or “honey” or “sweetie.” The first time I saw someone light a cigarette in a restaurant I thought he was some kind of heroic Rosa Parks character standing up for civil injustice. Quickly, I realized smoking tends to be a given in most Hopkinsville bars and restaurants. I had gotten used to seeing a congregant of Michigan bar customers huddled together, sharing body warmth, 25 yards from any building, sucking down smoke as quickly as possible before rushing back inside.

Some of the knickknacks available in a display case

Needless to say, this is not what defines Kentucky. From what I can tell, The Country Boy Store is what currently best represents the Kentucky I anticipated in my move from the Mid-North to the South. Located amidst corn and tobacco fields, The Country Boy Store is what I define as a “culture shock.”

Guns, watches, army uniforms, helmets, guns, a rusty banjo, dirty coffee cups, ammunition, busted-up typewriters and scores upon scores of other items littered the store. Next door was a small barn loaded with furniture and stained mattresses. I couldn’t help wondering, is anyone really going to buy a freezer filled with brown water? Or a used toilet covered in cobwebs? Despite my questioning, the place was a wonderland of curiosities. I could have spent another hour scrounging around for something I could barter for. It was truly fascinating. Organization was not a factor. Things were piled on top of other things and the place was lit by a little outdoor light and a single light bulb. It seemed like just the place I had read about in books and seen in movies.

A variety of toilets can be found behind the store

Now, that’s not to say that places like The Country Boy Store don’t exist in Michigan. I just wasn’t aware of any. That being said, I don’t think anyone will be buying a double-barreled shotgun or a loaded crossbow from Jones Country Store across the street from my old house anytime soon.

Boy what a store!

I love garage sales and looking through other people's prized possessions, so I was absolutely blown away when I went to the Country Boy Store last Friday. Just south of Hopkinsville, the huts may appear slightly shabby, but they house enough gadgets and gizmos to keep any guy busy for quite a while.

Although I was there to shop for my mom, I know my Dad and brother would love this store. The camping/fishing/hiking/hunting accessory possibilities were endless! You could find practically anything you wanted in camo, and it took at lot of self-restraint for me to not try on some of the Army helmets or the gas mask fellow staff writer Ben Joubert found down one of the aisles.

But, hands down, the things that caught my eye the moment I walked in the door were the guns. Sure, I'd seen hunting rifles before. The shotguns were nothing new. It was the guns that looked like they were straight out of Rambo that surprised me. One was absolutely massive, looked like it could put a hole in pretty much anything and was just hanging right next to the door. Another was on the floor in the back of the store, and looked to be about as long as I am tall.

Not surprisingly, the four young men who came to the store while I was there were equally as excited about the find. They thought the weapon hanging by the door might work though, and hinted at trying it out, something store-owner Gant Golladay didn't seem too thrilled about. He said not to stress or detail the guns he had at the store in my story because he has thieves come by all the time and try to take the weapons. Even though he has a security system that beeps ominously every few minutes, the remote store is still susceptible to burglary.

Gant said if a thief wants to get in, he or she will find a way to make it happen. Still, he didn't seem like the type of person who would great an intruder with tea and cookies.

A few other notes I remember from my afternoon at the store: 

-I thought for sure that I was going to knock something over, resulting in everything cascading on top of me and possibly injuring everyone in the store. The casual lack-of-classification for where to find things added to the atmosphere of the store, though.

 -Conservatively, I would put the number of old toilets on the property at 25. I found them in one of the other sheds and all over the back yard in different degrees of disrepair. Not sure if there's a huge market for used toilets...

-The store's cash register could be the coolest thing I've ever seen. Gant couldn't remember how long it had been in use at the store, but there was nothing computerized about it. It seemed to have grown into the counter itself, not easily distinguishable from the next item for sale. The small calculator entered accepted my total for the hanging basket item that I bought, and sent a signal through wires that hung from the ceiling and ran to the wall a few feet behind the counter. After a second, another hidden draw gave a little ding and opened. I may be easily entertained, but I love homemade anythings and these seemed like a fine example.

My mom Helen displaying her new hanging thing

-Hundreds of little pieces of farm equipment and other antiques were pinned to the walls of the store. Gant said when one of the original owners got an item he didn't think would sell, he would nail it to the wall. Now, Gant is confident some of the old items are worth a pretty penny. 

-My mom was kind enough to act like she enjoyed the hanging thing that I got her. After debating between the basket and a plug-in water fountain contraption, I decided it was a safer bet the basket would stay operational a little bit longer.

Thanks for your continued interest in and support of my bucket list column. Keep sending your comments, questions or complaints to dboucher@kentuckynewera.com or post them to the blog. Look for a different perspective on the Country Boy Store in tomorrow's post.