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Linn County Leader - Brookfield, MO
Take a trip down memory lane as bloggers Danny Batson and Gary Thomas recollect their experiences while growing up in the Chillicothe area. We hope our discussion starters, pictures, and articles will evoke your personal recollections of Chillicothe; we invite you to share your stories with all of us. So, let us discuss the days gone by and have fun!
No Tippy! Come Back! by Danny Batson
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About this blog
By Gary Thomas

Hi, I am Danny Batson (Knouse) and I am a lifelong resident of the Chillicothe area. I was born in 1951 and graduated from CHS in 1969. I took over my dad’s septic tank business that he founded in 1937. While I have been in every state ...

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Chillicothe: As We Remember

Hi, I am Danny Batson (Knouse) and I am a lifelong resident of the Chillicothe area. I was born in 1951 and graduated from CHS in 1969. I took over my dad’s septic tank business that he founded in 1937. While I have been in every state (except Hawaii and Maine), there is no place like home! I love taking pictures of old and unusual things and sharing them. There is beauty in everything, if we look for it. I have three Facebook pages filled with local pictures that may be of interest: “Where Has Danny Been,” Chillicothe Now,” and “Danny Batson”.

Hi, I am Gary Thomas and I was born just across from Central School in 1942. I graduated from CHS in 1960 and MU in 1964. After two years in Army, I completed a graduate degree at the University of Chicago in 1970. After working in software development for more than 40 years, I retired from Raytheon in 2007. I have an abiding interest in history and in researching past events, places, and people. My latest project is developing a history-based chronology for Livingston County from 1801-2000.

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By Gary Thomas
Jan. 25, 2013 9:22 p.m.



The parlor games we played as children were fun, but not as much fun as those we would make up.  This story occurred when my Aunt Linda was with me. She was only three years older than me and we grew up together at the round barn south of Utica.  We were like brother and sister.  I think I may have gotten my onery nature from being around her!

 

The Greenhills grocery near our house on S. Washington Street had a gumball machine that took a single penny!   Alongside was a nickle machine that dispensed small plastic containers that had toys inside.  These toys varied from plastic spiders to diamond rings, and even lick'em stick'em tattoos.  I have said before, our little toys did not last very long. But those little plastic containers were more fun than the toys themselves.  My aunt and I had found a good use for them.

 

We would lay on the bank of the viaduct facing the highway and we would each throw one half of the little plastic container out into the traffic.   The purpose was to see who could get theirs the closest to the tires on the cars zipping by.  It was lots of fun, we laid there and laughed for hours throwing those containers out and watching the cars crush them.  It was our newly-invented game!



My dog Tippy spotted us on the hill and came running to us.  I had taught Tippy to fetch and I was not thinking when I threw the next container out right in front of him.  He took off like lightning and I stood up and yelled "No! No! Tippy come back here!"

I knew he would get hit. There weren't a lot of cars back then but it only took one coming from the north.  I watched as its front tire hit him and heard a thump and a crunch. I became numb and my eyes filled with tears as my heart came up in my throat. After the next two cars passed, I went out to get him--- crying.

 

My aunt went to get my parents and as I brought him back to the curb his eyes were open. He was still alive at that point, but I knew enough about animals at that age, he was dying.

 

He died in my arms as I stumbled down the hill.  l could not see well because my tears made everything blurry.  Tippy was just a pup, but he was my best friend.  Sometimes life's lessons are hard and can hurt.

 

My parents said we should not have been doing that, and of course they were right.  As I dug his grave the  ground was blurred from my tears.  That day I learned to think ahead of time about consequences of my actions.



I had many dogs named Tippy since, but I stopped using that name when we moved from there.  I have a dog named Babe III today. Each Babe through the years had their own personality, even though they all looked the same.  I love my dogs. 

    

DB



 








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