Carried Away

RW was famous for getting carried away. He'd beat that pulpit like a rented mule. He'd eat that melon like it would make him live forever. He'd get the grandkids riled up right before bed. He couldn't help himself, he just got a little carried away.

I can remember one specific incident where the phrase, "I just got carried away!" was hollered at a police officer on the side of the road.

Papaw and I were together on a trip to Elberta. I can't remember our reason for going. Then again, Eddie was growing watermelon. Do you need more reason than that? That was a unique trip. Me and RW in a truck for 5 hours. I can remember the conversation being lively and loud. That is, when we were talking. It seemed to be a rule of thumb for Papaw to think 5 minutes for every 1 minute of talking. So on a 5 hour trip, you could expect to have a little less than 1 hour of conversation. But that 1 hour was as juicy as that melon with red meat.

RW always took the Flomaton exit. That meant that we would cross through Florida for a short stretch. In my experience the Florida law officers take their job a little more seriously than our Bama officers do. And so the trap was set for a loud distracted man to irritate the man in blue.

The cobwebs in my memory seem to indicate we were on the road with the paper mill. The speed limit would change frequently. And it seemed like we just went from a 55 zone to a 45 zone. Of course, to RW, 55 meant 65. So in the blink of an eye, Ralph was smoking down the road changing into a new speed zone, therefore going at least 20 mph over the speed limit. In Florida, that is a personal foul/15 yard penalty.

I wish I could remember what we were debating. I just remember that voices were raised. And you know that was music to Papaw's ears. He loved a hot debate. He didn't even care if you were arguing the same point from different angles. He just loved it when his blood boiled. And buddy, we were yelling. He was looking at me, despite being the one driving. I was looking at him. He was so close to hitting me with that right hand. You see there is not pulpit in a pickup truck. So he'd use whatever he could find, including his own flesh and blood.

I happened to look toward the road for a moment. And I saw a silver and blue car with pretty blue lights on top, fly by us in the opposite direction. Then it dawned on me, we were flying by him.
I looked behind the truck to watch that pretty car do a dukes of hazard u turn in the road, and before I had breathed he was shining those pretty blue lights at the back of Papaw's white hair. I was stunned and eagerly watched this event with wide eyes.

Ralph, slung that pickup truck totally off the road onto the dirt shoulder. And with one smooth motion he put the truck in park, flung his door open, and marched yes marched toward the cop. The cop took the precautions that he was trained to take. He unsnapped the holster of his billy stick. He talked into the cb radio on his shoulder. But he was not ready for the tornado called Ralph.

Papaw spoke to that policeman with the same voice he was just using for our debate. And his arm gestures were huge and aggressive. I remember him yelling, "Look, I am a preacher. I'm riding with my grandson, and we were debating some things. I just got carried away!"

Mind you, the man in blue hadn't said a word yet. I can imagine what he felt. Because I've seen it a hundred times when I watch someone meet Ralph for the first time. So the policeman explained to Papaw how fast he was going. And he pointed out what the normal consequences for that violation was. Then he told Papaw in a very direct way, almost like he new exactly how to get Papaw's attention. He said, "Sir, get back in your truck, keep your speed down, and be careful what your doing."

I think RW ran back to his vehicle. Come to think of it, so did the man in blue.