As I jog down the road of Columbus memories, there are numerous people I can never forget. Some were a big part of my own personal life and most helped make up the fabric of Possum Town in decades gone by.
One of these was my very own eccentric uncle, James Marion Salley. There are still many around town who interacted with him, including our friend Birney Imes, retired publisher of The Dispatch and very well known photographer.
I learned that a couple of years ago when Birney mentioned him in a conversation. My uncle had an interest in photography and camera equipment and was obsessed with any sort of machine or gadget.
Having gone the familiar family path of a Mississippi State education, James was the ultimate engineer sort of guy all his life. And probably beyond.
He’s most likely up at the Heavenly Gate fixing God’s doorbell.
For many years until his retirement, he was chief engineer at the power company serving the area.
I remember back in the 60’s and 70’s he would have his company car parked at our family gatherings in Eupora (where he was born). It had a two-way radio with a loud speaker so he could be reached for emergencies.
Many a conversation in the farmhouse was interrupted by the loud squeaks and squawks emanating from his car.
Uncle James rarely got an emergency call. I think the car was there if things got too boring for him as an excuse to escape back to Columbus.
He had a solemn and stern look about him, and as kids we were scared and in awe of his demeanor. But inside he was a softy. As we grew older we came to appreciate his dry sense of humor and would flock around him to hear words of wisdom.
James would sit listening quietly in the big 1940’s red plush chair as the chaos of little cousins and adult conversations swirled around him. At a certain point you would hear a one line sarcastic zinger come from his red throne and everyone nearby would erupt in laughter.
My uncle was way beyond eccentric. Way beyond. His home on College Street was filled…stuffed…with broken electronics and machines he was tinkering with. I’m not overstating. Just about every room and hallway…every available empty space.
The place could have been the set of a reality TV show.
Decades of stuff he had brought in like a cat dragging dead mice into the house. Took days to empty the place when he passed.
In their later years, my poor beleaguered aunt finally gave up trying to change him. Even though they loved each other, she finally moved by herself to their other house out past Propst Park.
There are many grown women around Columbus and out in the world who will remember his wife and sweet human being, Olean Salley, who was a long time counselor for girls attending Mississippi State College for Women. (I will never call it by any other name. Never.)
James and Olean couldn’t medically have children, but they had a little standard brown color chihuahua (ankle biter) that they called “Cindy Dog.” They took that dog everywhere they went.
When I was about 10 we played with that dog. When I was 20 we played with that dog. When I was 40 we played with Cindy Dog. Even 50.
Once me and the other “kids” morphed into adulthood, we realized that hey… that dog is mighty old. And still full of energy. Could it be?
Turns out that, unbeknownst to us, that they had replaced that dog numerous times. Most of that breed are brown and look – well – like Cindy Dog. What can I say? That was Uncle James.
Thom Caraccio ([email protected]) is a retired musician and retired motion picture scenic artist living in West Palm Beach, Florida who hails from Columbus. He graduated from S.D. Lee High in 1968 and still considers Columbus his real hometown.
You can help your community
Quality, in-depth journalism is essential to a healthy community. The Dispatch brings you the most complete reporting and insightful commentary in the Golden Triangle, but we need your help to continue our efforts. In the past week, our reporters have posted 34 articles to cdispatch.com. Please consider subscribing to our website for only $2.30 per week to help support local journalism and our community.
You can help your community
Quality, in-depth journalism is essential to a healthy community. The Dispatch brings you the most complete reporting and insightful commentary in the Golden Triangle, but we need your help to continue our efforts. In the past week, our reporters have posted 34 articles to cdispatch.com. Please consider subscribing to our website for only $2.30 per week to help support local journalism and our community.
