Tell Me a Story (youngsters:non fiction, 993 words)
Author: Lou Hill	Added: May 19 2002	Views/Reads: 5357/2571	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
You wouldn't be pulling my leg would you?

TELL ME A STORY 

Before the advent of television made the art of conversation an
unnecessary social grace people, actually made an effort to talk to one 
another.  Almost everyone had something to say and most were willing to 
express their opinion on a wide range of topics ranging from politics 
to religion to farming.  No, sex did not enter into the conversation.  
Remember this was before TV.   These conversations would occur in a 
variety of places, the local grocery store, restaurant, feed store or 
gas station. 

Frequently these conversations would become somewhat one-sided when an
individual might recount something about their life experiences whether 
it was a tale about hunting or fishing or some event that occurred 
while they were serving their country.  Now for the most part the 
accuracy of these stories were never challenged regardless of how 
improbable.  However certain individuals did gain a reputation for 
story telling and often enjoyed their notoriety.   In fact every little 
Vermont town and village seemed to have at least one of these 
storytellers. 

You will notice that I have avoided calling these individuals liars.  To
me telling a lie is done with malicious intent  or for personal gain 
and these folks were not malicious or for that matter really evil.  In 
fact they probably just wanted to be entertaining and if the truth were 
known enjoyed being the center of attention.  I am also quite sure that 
most of the time they did not believe what they were saying and knew 
deep down that their listeners didn't either. 

Over the years Enosburg has had a number of pretty fair storytellers but
the two that I remember best were Archie Girard and Jack Campbell. 

Archie was the custodian at the High School when I attended Enosburg
Falls HS.  I was the manager of the Basketball team and while the team 
was practicing I would often sneak into the boiler room for a quick 
cigarette and a visit with old Archie.  Archie never squealed on me and 
since he smoked a pipe I didn't have to worry about the fumes from my 
cigarettes.  He seemed to enjoy the company and would frequently regale 
me with some of his tall stories.  No audience was too small for a 
dedicated storyteller. 

I remeber one evening in particular.  It must have been in early spring
because the conversation turned to sugaring.  As a young man Archie had 
boiled for someone who had a big sugar bush.   I don't remember now how 
many taps they had or how many barrels of syrup they made each year but 
according to Archie it was a tremendous amount.  He described a sugar 
rig that was so big that it would have taken a building the size of a 
football field to house it and ten men and a boy just to fire it.  
According to Archie a stream of sap about 4 inches in diameter would 
constantly pour into the back of the pan and there was a steady stream 
of syrup running out the front end. 

Now as anyone who has ever visited a sugar house knows that when sap is
boiling it has a tendency to foam up and boil ever the edges of the 
evaporator pan.   Most sugar makers hang a small piece of fat pork a 
foot or so above the pan with a string to keep the sap from foaming up 
too high.  If it still boils up too much they will sprinkle a little 
heavy cream on the foam to settle it down.  One small piece of pork is 
usually good for a season and I have seen some that looked as if they 
had been hanging over the rig for years. 

Not on Archie's rig when he was boiling.  According to Archie they used
to hang a half a hog over the pan in the morning and by evening it 
would be nothing but skin and bones. 

Jack Campbell was a WW1 Veteran.  The "big war" they used to call it and
many of his stories centered on his experiences during that time.  My 
uncle, Minot Austin, also a WW1 vet, was a pretty fair storyteller too 
and frequently upheld the honor of Sheldon.  He and Jack used to go 
head to head quite often and it is hard to say who was the better yarn 
spinner of the two. 

I was not privy to one of their best encounters but heard about it
shortly after it happened from my stepfather, Johnny Pomeroy, who was 
working at Sammy Hull's Mobil station on Main Street at the time and 


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