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R. V. Waldrep Alabama 1 AL-83
Life story of
Jack Hodge, Red Bay, Ala.
From interview.

JACK HODGE

He was not a big man, just sturdy; but his movements and walk were
the movements and roll of an enormous log beginning its tumble down a hill
into the creek.

It was awkward at first; we leaned against the brick wall of Johnny
McKenny's grocery store. "You have been away?" I nodded.

Then I asked, "You are still in the clearing?"

"Nah."

I've known Jack Hodge for ten years. But I went away sometime ago,
and stayed away for five years.

As a strip of a boy I went to see him where he lived in the woods;
it must have been the summer of 1933. He was living deep in the woods, then,
off the road, and over and through several hills and valleys. We found
him there in his shack, built by his hands, built there in the acres of
cleared land. He was sitting on a log, and his dog in the brush. He
was romantic looking. All the boys in town knew that; Joe James, the old
school teacher's nephew, stayed all night with him several times, as did
other kids.

Jack Hodge sat there on the log, walked with us to the corn he had
planted, which was now two feet high. His shack was on top of a hill,
and we had to walk down and climb fences and jump logs to see his garden,
his peas, and potatoes.

Then we strolled, as the dog shot ahead, sniffing, looking, hunting,
ever alert. He told us lies then, as he says now. He says he told lies.

I told him the tales he told us, and the mouth in the dark, jug-head
smiled, and he shifted on his feet. But he was pleased to know that I
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