Saturday Afternoon Wrestling
Pictured are my grandparents, Gordon and Leeanna Davis, in rural McDowell County. They purchased a TV in the early 1960s, but it only picked up the Charlotte station. Wrestling came on Saturday afternoons, and boy did they get into that. Grandpap sat in his straight-back chair twisting, jerking and grunting right along with them. Of course, they had good and bad guys.
One bad guy was called Rip Hawk. Chief Wahoo McDaniel, a good guy [and a Choctaw-Chickasaw Native American], was a crowd favorite. He came to the ring wearing his magnificent headdress, strutting around the ring before his match. On this particular Saturday, Dad said, “Come on, we’ll go cut your granny’s grass.”
As we were getting out of the truck, here comes Grandma walking or maybe stomping down from their log house. You could tell she was ill, nope, madder than a wet hen, I guess. Dad asked, “What’s wrong, Ma?” She replied, “Why that there danged ol’ Chicken Hawk done went and jumped on him before he could get his feathers off!”
I still laugh every time I recall that day and how upset she was from that wrestling match!
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