Illegal Of The Day Kentucky 4
By:Gene Trimble LM 2192-170 (70.173.150.150)
Date: 10/12/10 12:17 pm
A little trip down to the heart of “Bluegrass Country.”
These joints were all before my time but I played a lot of poker in Louisville and 2 different times in Paris.
Ok suffer me this story. It actually had a big impact on my life and the way I thought about life. The older I get the more I think about the little things in life that made me who I am today.
Not chip related. Most of you can skip down to “Enough of that.”
I was 12, came from dirt poor at 7 to a good suburban life on 6 acres of land out on Taylor Mill. I wanted a shot gun. I wanted to go rabbit hunting. My step father said I needed to earn and save for it. I got $2 bucks a week allowance. Two old ladies across the road needed someone to mow their huge yard. I sold some baseball cards.
5 months later my mother took me to Montgomery Ward, 8th & Madison in Covington. I walked out with a 16 gauge Remington pump and a beautiful case for it.
The huge woods behind our place was posted. Ok where was I going to hunt rabbits? I had never thought of that. My mother had relatives that lived close to Paris with a large farm but had not seen them in years. I gave my mother the old “Cartman” MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM, please call them routine. If you don’t watch South Park you won’t get that one.
Deal made. They would have a nice Sunday dinner and invite all relatives that could show up. Fried chicken and squash pie. Yucks on the squash pie!
My big day arrived. I started to walk the hills of the farm, shotgun at the ready. Not sure how far I walked, I saw several rabbits on a hill across from me and headed that way. Half way up the next slope I jumped a rabbit, shouldered the Remington, pumped it, and fired. Rabbit down on my 1st shot.
I walked up to it, looked at it and started crying. I dug a hole with my pocket knife and buried the rabbit. I walked back to the house with tears in my eyes, all the way back.
I lied to my mother. I told her I jumped one but missed.
Tuesday morning after we returned home I sold the Remington at a loss.
Life is priceless and I would never again take life.
(2 exceptions: crawling bugs and snakes. ) Good snake story tied to the German Ambassador to the USA for another day.
Strange, if you hunt it, I will eat it. I’ve never been able to reconcile those 2 things .
Enough of that:
Kentucky:
Most of you KY boys probably have these chips but may have not seen the record cards.
I got these in 2000. They came from an old timer that worked at Stoner Creek Country Club.
Stoner Creek Country Club
Main Street
Paris
Delivered in 1946-48

DC in Diamond
Louisville Hotel
Dean Furse
Louisville
1933
Dean was also part owner of The Greyhound in Jeffersonville, IN. Chips might have been used there.

These 2 need a little research someday. Paul Bender might have something on them. Jump in Paul.
Interesting 2 different operators had chips delivered to same address same year, 4 months apart. Did Joe Knee (do you think that’s a real name? ) go broke or go to jail?
Wonder how long JW Goose (do you think that’s a real name? ) last?
I got this one in 1999
GB
Sycamore Café
Joe Knee
238 Central Ave, near Churchill Downs
Louisville
1941

JWG
Sycamore Café
JW Goose
238 Central Ave, near Churchill
Louisville
1941

My brother and I always shot doves in my grandmother’s backyard when we were kids and shamefully, enjoyed it.

After a particularly good day of killing about 15 doves, my grandmother saw what we had done. Without saying a word in anger or even disappointment, she had us gather all of the dove we’d just shot and sat down with both of us and proceeded to tell us how bad she had it when she was younger. I almost didn’t hear what she was saying because as she was speaking, she had begun to clean the birds we shot (at that age I was pretty freaked out). After a few more words she had us take a dove in our hands and showed us how to clean them. We both protested and said we couldn’t do it. I’ll never forget her words, “What will you eat for dinner then?”

She was a good soul and she taught us a valuable lesson. Never kill for fun and if you kill and animal, only kill to eat.

It’s all a bit ironic because our family owned a grocery store and a butcher shop.