"A lot of people might have been sad to have a birth-injured child, but I think the good Lord made him like that so he wouldn't have to suffer. He never even knew there were mean people on this earth. He just loved everybody and everybody loved him. I truly believe in my heart that he was an angel that God sent down to me, and sometimes I cain't wait to get to heaven to see him again. He was my pal, and I miss him . . . especially at Easter.”  Mrs. Threadgoode looked down at her hands.

"Well, now that it looks like I'm gonna be here for a little while yet, I've been thinking about that picture I have in my bedroom at home, of that Indian maiden paddling her canoe down the river in the moonlight. She's fully clothed, so I'm gonna see if Norris will go over and bring it to me whenever he gets the chance."

Mrs. Threadgoode pulled something out of the Cracker Jack box and all of a sudden her eyes lit up. "Oh Evelyn, look! Here's my prize. It's a little miniature chicken . . . just what I like!" and she held it out for her friend to see.

DECEMBER 30, 1939

Religious Sewing Machines a Fraud

The man that was in town a couple of weeks ago, selling those religious sewing machines that were supposed to heal you as you sewed, was arrested in Birmingham. It seems that the machines were not from France, but were made outside of Chattanooga, Tennessee, and were not religious at all. Biddie Louise Otis is very upset, because she thought the one she bought had helped her arthritis a lot.

Whistle Stop's Boy Scouts, Duane Glass and Vernon Hadley, all received their merit badges, and Bobby Lee Scroggins moved up to Eagle Scout.  Scout leader Julian Threadgoode treated them to a visit to the iron statue of Vulcan, over in Birmingham, Atop Red Mountain. . . . Julian said that the statue of Vulcan is so big that a man can stand inside of his ear. Who would want to stand in a man's ear, is my question.

Vesta Adcock had an afternoon party for her Eastern Star ladies, and served petit fours.

By the way, Opal asks that the neighbors not feed her cat. Boots, even though she acts like she's hungry and begs. She has plenty to eat at home and is on a diet, because the doctor said she was too fat.

. . . Dot Weems . . .

P.S. Has anybody seen my other half’s December National Geographic? He claims he lost it somewhere in town and he is having a fit because he hasn't finished it yet.

JANUARY 8, 1938

Ever since Idgie had put the picture of Miss Fancy the Elephant up at the cafe, Onzell and George's youngest child, Naughty Bird, had been fascinated. She would beg her daddy to take her to Avondale Park so she could see the elephant; and today, that's all Naughty Bird had on her mind.

She had been sick for over a month now. Dr. Hadley had just told them that pneumonia had set in, and if they couldn't get her to eat, he didn't see how she could live out another week.

Big George was leaning over the bed with an uneaten bowl of oatmeal, pleading with her. "Please, won't you eat a bite for Poppa? Just one little bite for Poppa, baby. What you want, baby? You want Poppa to get you a sweet kitten?”

Naughty Bird, who was six and weighed only thirty pounds, just lay there, listless, with her eyes glazed over, and shook her head.

"You want Momma to fix you some biscuits?” Onzell said. "You want some biscuits and honey, baby?”

"No ma'am.”

"Miz Idgie and Miz Ruth's here. They done brung you some candy . . . won't you eat a bite?"

The little girl turned her head toward the wall covered with magazine pictures and mumbled something.

Onzell leaned down. "What, baby? You say you want some biscuits?"

Naughty Bird said, weakly, "I wanna see Miz Fancy.”  Onzell turned, with tears in her eyes. "See what I mean, Miz Ruth. She got it in her head to go see that elephant, and ain't no thin' else gonna do, and she ain't gonna eat till she does.”

Idgie and Big George went out on the porch and sat on the faded green tin chairs. He stared out in the yard.

"Miz Idgie, I cain't let my baby die before she sees dat elephant."

"Now, George, you know you cain't go in Avondale Park, they just had a big Klan meeting over there the other night As soon as you set one foot in that gate, they'd shoot your head off in a minute."

Big George thought it over and said, "Well then, they's gonna hafta kill me, cause dat's my baby girl in dere and I'd rather be dead in my grave than let anything happen to her."

Idgie knew he meant it.

This six-foot-five giant of a man, who could pick up a full-grown hog and carry it like it was a sack of potatoes, had such a soft spot for his little girl that he would leave the house whenever Onzell gave her a whipping. And when he came home at night, it was Naughty Bird who would run and crawl up him like a tree and hug his neck. She could twist him around her little finger like he was the red on a barber pole.

That year, he had ridden the streetcar over to Birmingham to buy her a snow-white Easter dress, with shoes to match. Easter morning, Onzell had managed to get Naughty Bird's nappy hair all up in pigtails and tied them with white ribbons. When Sipsey saw her in that white dress, she had laughed and said she looked just like a fly in a pan of milk. But Big George didn't care if she was black as midnight and had nappy hair he'd carried her to church with him and sat her on his lap, like she was Princess Margaret Rose.

So the sicker Naughty Bird became, the more Idgie worried about Big George and what he would do.

Two days later, it was cold and wet after a hard rain. Stump was walking home from school down the railroad tracks, smelling the strong wet pine smoke rising up from the houses along the way. He was wearing brown corduroy pants and a leather jacket that had seen better days. He was chilled to the bone.

When he got home to the cafe, he sat by the wood stove in the back, his ears burning as they thawed out, listening to his mother.

"Honey, why didn't you wear your hat?"

"I forgot"

"You don't want to get sick, do you?”

"No ma'am."

He was glad to see Idgie come in. She went over to the closet and got her coat and asked him if he wanted to drive over to Birmingham, to Avondale Park, with Smokey and her. He jumped at the chance. "Yes ma'am."

"Well, come on then."

Ruth said, "Wait a minute. Do you have homework?"

"Just a little."

"Do you promise to do it when you get back, if I let you go?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Idgie, you're coming right back, aren't you?"

"Sure. Why not? I'm just gonna talk to the man."

"Well, all right, but get your hat, Stump."

He ran out the door. "Bye, Momma."

Ruth handed Idgie his hat. “Try to get back before dark."

"I will. Don't worry."

They piled into the car and headed to Birmingham.

At twelve o'clock that night, a frantic Ruth received a phone call from Smokey, saying not to worry, that they were all right. He hung up before Ruth had a chance to ask where they were.

At five forty-five the next morning, Ruth and Sipsey were in the kitchen getting ready for the breakfast crowd. Onzell had stayed home with Naughty Bird, who was getting worse. Ruth was a nervous wreck, worrying over Stump, Idgie, and Smokey, who had not come home yet.

"She's gonna be back," Sipsey said "Dat's jest her way, she's always runnin' off. You know she ain't gwine let nothin’ happen to dat boy."

An hour later, while Grady Kilgore and the boys were having their morning coffee, they heard a horn blowing, coming toward the cafe. Then, from far off, they heard the sound of Christmas bells jangling, getting louder and louder. They all got up to look out the window and couldn't believe their eyes.