PART II
The Education Of
Clarence Poe
Continuing' (ho writer's personal
recollections of flick long-liine
“Progressive Farmer** Fdilor.
By CHARI. KS AYCOC K POF
In Hart
/
of his accoiini (Au¬
gust edition! Cluirlcs Poe told of
his father s early years following
arrival in the city, quoting from
his diary and record of expen¬
ditures. There were also recol¬
lections of Dr. Poe's home life, a
description of a typical work day
during the editor s mature years,
and some reflections of his as¬
sociation with other Southern
leaders. — ED.
His reading was rarely casual. I can-
nol recall his reading a modern novel in
his later years. He read for a purpose:
to obtain grist for his mill, for his edito¬
rial page, for his never-ending fight to
obtain a better life for the farmers and
city people in the South. He could scan
down a column in a few seconds,
quickly discarding the chaff. His
weapons were the blue pencil and a
large pair of scissors, and by bedtime
he would have accumulated a sizeable
pile of useful clippings. Many of these
would be put to good use in the days to
come. The books he read contain
numerous markings and comments in
the margin, for easy re-reading and
quick retrieval, should he later need to
make use of the phraseology or quota¬
tion.
Health Fads
While he ate a well-balanced meal,
he favored a Chatham County country
menu: cornbread. sparcribs. turnip
salad, blackeyed peas, buttermilk. He
was particularly partial to clabber
(sprinkled lightly with sugar) and chit¬
terlings. or "chitlins.*' The odor that
permeated the house when the chit-
THE STATE. September 1979
terlings were cooking drove us chil¬
dren to the Great Outdoors.
Dad and Mother subscribed to most
of the health and fi>od fads popular in
that day. My brother, sister and I must
have drunk several quarts, all told, of
cod liver oil and that equally horrible
concoction for growing children.
Scott’s Hmulsion. We were taught to
chew our food thirty times before
swallowing and to eat all the food
which we were served. The punish¬
ment was particularly drastic if we
failed to eat our spinach and turnip
salad, and to this day I have an aver¬
sion to both. Dad was also a fresh air
fiend. In the house at 211 Hast Peace
Street in Raleigh, where I was born,
and where we lived until 1925. all five
of us slept on a sleeping porch, open on
three sides to the elements, and I fre¬
quently woke up with my head wet
from rain or snow. When we moved to
the new house in Longview, it likewise
was equipped with a communal sleep¬
ing porch, on which the five of us slept
until we children became of age and
asserted our rights to our own bed¬
rooms. While my father was an ardent
believer in the beneficial effects not
only of fresh air but of cold water vig¬
orously applied. I will say this in his
behalf: He never insisted that we fol¬
low his custom of submerging in an icy
bath in the mornings.
His health bans included tobacco
and alcohol. I went along with him in
foregoing tobacco, partly because he
got me in the habit of not smoking by
offering me $100 if I did not smoke until
I was 21. When I reached that age it
was
19Я4,
and he did not have SI 00 to
give me. but he did give me a share of
Progressive Parmer stock which has
turned out to he worth a great deal
more: and the fact that I have never
smoked has likew ise been worth many
hundreds of dollars to me. He was a
prohibitionist until the end —or almost
the end. In his later years his doctor
recommended some alcoholic bever¬
age to counteract his high blood
pressure. He could not stand whisky,
but he finally compromised by drink¬
ing a little beer mixed with grapefruit
juice. He was never able to win any
converts to this alcoholic novelty and
soon gave it up himself.
The New Swimsuit
Through learned in many fields, he
paid little attention to household re¬
pairs and had little knowledge of
mechanics, science or invention. I
cannot recall seeing him about the
house with a hammer, screwdriver,
pail of pliers or a saw in his hand,
though he was an expert with an axe.
He never learned to drive an auto¬
mobile. When we moved to the coun¬
try in 1925. he did make a half-hearted
effort to learn to drive the "horseless
carnage." but he never fell at ease at
the wheel. I was w ith him on his final
voyage when he ran off the highway on
Milburnie Road and embedded the car
in a sand bank. It was necessary to gel
some of his farm help to dig us out.
From that day forward Mother was his
willing chauffeur.
Or Po« at obout the time he wrote "My firit 80
Yeoev"
He once told Mother that lie liked
stuffed olives very much but was
hesitant about asking her to have them
more often, because he knew it must
be a lot of trouble lot her to stuff them.
Hut the height of the ludicrous came
when the family decided that my father
should no longer wear the one-piece
