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'Fulton Tales' tells of life in sawmill town in '50s, '60s
His wife, Linda Garrison Brown, whom he met at the University, came to know and love Fulton through her visits there and through her husband's stories. After hearing the stories for 39 years of marriage she decided "to write them down before they got lost" so others could enjoy them, too. "Fulton Tales" is a collection of 16 stories written from her husband's perspective as a young boy. The stories include people and places that many who live in the area know well- Munn's Store, Dr. Jack Dozier, Fulton's fish pond, Silver Creek and more. "I'm a 60-year-old grandmother who didn't start writing until I was in my mid-50s and it turned out to be fun," Linda Brown said recently. Randall Brown's late father was W. K. Brown, a longtime employee of Scotch Lumber Company, the town's sole industry and reason for being. His mother, Rennie Brown, 80, lives with her son and daughterin law in Northport. "The 1950s and '60s were a time of innocence," Randall Brown said. "My wife spent two years working on this and I am very proud of what she has done," he added. Remember silver metallic Christmas trees? "Christmas in Fulton in 1957" details the year the Brown family got one of the new-fangled trees. Randall Brown was not happy. "I cringed each time someone came into the house and cooed over that blue silver monstrosity. Each night after supper we'd watch as the color changer was turned on, and the tree would change from red to green to blue to yellow, over and over again. Pretty soon everyone in Fulton had seen the thing." Old timers may remember the Roost Pole, Fulton's community gathering spot in the 1950s. A story details a prank Scotch owner Billy Harrigan played on two young men at the Roost Pole once. Many also remember the town physician, Dr. Jack Dozier and his belief in penicillin. So did Randall Brown. "Doctor Jack was a true believer in the properties of penicillin as a wonder drug. If you came to the office with a cold, he gave you [a] penicillin shot charging only two dollars. Once he had a flat on that Plymouth car on the way to one of his house calls. A motorist stopped to help and changed Doctor Jack's tire. The motorist had a nagging cough so Doctor Jack pulled out his little black bag and gave him a penicillin shot. The motorist inquired, 'How much do I owe you?' Doctor Jack answered, 'Let's just call it even.'" The stories go on and on.
Linda Brown will be autographing copies of the self-published book at The Gift Gallery in Grove Hill Saturday, May 3 from 2 until 4 p.m.
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