Part 1: The Upside to Small Town Living
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Some might find that growing up in a small town of only 250 people to be a disadvantage. For me, it was great. Sure my family and I had some difficult times opportunity wise, but we had it work. I was given every chance that my family could afford.
While I was growing up, I wanted to be a dancer. My mother was in full support of this dream and literally would do anything to help me succeed. My mom and I would drive about an 1 ½ hours to a dance studio where I would take ballet lessons. I was 15 at the time, so imagine how cute an overweight 15-year old looked in a tutu trying to impose on my body ballet postures that defied my body’s normal instincts.
I was funny looking to say the least, but every Wednesday my mom and I would make the drive to Lewisburg, W.Va. Now, some people might find this ride boring, monotonous, and simply stupid, but every week I looked forward to this drive.
On the way home one week my mom and I were listening to the only radio station available on the back curvy roads, across state lines. The DJs were all local people who would host shows of their favorite music. Living in such a small town, we knew all the DJs. On Wednesdays it just so happened that the principal of my high school was the radio host. Mom got this great idea that we would call him, seeing that he’s a family friend of ours. Mom was driving, so I was going to talk first, and it was a miracle that we even had cell phone service for as long as we did. Well, I’m sure I got nervous or something happened but my voice didn’t come out normal, to say the least. It came out in a real Southern accent. Not even a pretty Southern belle accent, I’m talk about Southern redneck complete with drawl.
My principal’s name was Pete Pitard, and everyone in the school called him “Paw-Paw Pete.” When he answered the phone I asked for Petey Pitard. He asked who was speaking. I wouldn’t tell him who I really was. I simply told him the first name that popped into my head. Reberta Lynn. My name was Little Miss Reberta Lynn to be exact, and I was a character.
As the conversation progresses the “white lies” got even more outrageous than the one before. I had an entire life that revolved around having a secret love- on my high school principal. PLEASE NOTE: I, JESSIE YOUNG, DO NOT REALLY HAVE A SECRET LOVE LIFE WITH MY HIGH SCHOOL PRINCIPAL!
Little Miss Reberta Lynn was a 6’4’’, red-headed, red neck that lived in the janitor’s closet across the hall from Pete Pitard office. She would only come out at night and would roam the hall for spare change to buy food from the snack machines. She wore a purple boa and was working on saving money for a new front tooth that had been knocked out in a greased-pig-catching contest. She had family that lived in janitors’ closets in surrounding schools, and on holidays like Thanksgiving she would get together with her other closeted family and compile spare change for a big family meal.
On Wednesdays of every week for nearly two years, I would talk to Pete Pitard as Little Miss Reberta Lynn.
There would be days that I wouldn’t have dance practice, so I would forget to call Pete Pitard, and when this happen the following week I would have to make up a story about where Reberta Lynn had gone the previous week. One week she had gone to the Red Neck Convention of America, held in none other than Lewisburg, W.Va. When asked about her experiences there Reberta Lynn had only the finest stories to tell. She competed in the Pig-Catching Contest and won first place. She better have won she got her tooth knocked out practicing for it.
Her momma won first place in the Finest Road Kill Contest. She did some wonderful things with fresh meat picked up off the side of the road. And her boyfriend Bubba won second in the Jug-Playing contest. Please imagine all of this being said in the thickest southern accent ever and all live on the radio. Unfortunately, Reberta Lynn’s brother, Billy Bob, didn’t place in the Spoon-Playing contest.
I even wanted to help out with special events that the radio was hosting. They did a pledge month. Reberta Lynn gave an entire $0.27. That was almost a day’s worth of hunting for spare change in the school.
Now, these stories continued even throughout the summer months. And every week they would get more outrageous than the week before. But I never did tell him my true identity. Mr. Pitard would talk about it at functions and would ask around to see if anyone had heard about this crazy lady calling him every week. My family would listen into the phone conversation, so they could hear his reactions on the other end. It was better than cable TV most nights. To this day Pete Pitard doesn’t have a clue who the real Reberta Lynn is, and I’m hoping he won’t find out. Well, maybe when I write “The Stories of Little Miss Reberta Lynn” and reveal it to him on Oprah.
Comments
Go Reberta Lynn! We love you!!!!
3/23/10 11:30 AM
