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!

—Arvle Davis, Asheville, a member of Carteret-Craven Electric Cooperative