Thinking Outside the Box: The Black Panther Story

 It was late in the day on a hot July afternoon as we traveled to Middleton, Tennessee, to participate in the Dixie Youth minor league all-star game for boys ages 8-10. Along with teams from other counties, the Adamsville Dixie Youth All-Stars had high expectations. Our players made the trip, a little less than an hour, in a fifteen-passenger van from the Methodist Church. Doc Hoover, a member of the church, was authorized to drive and I had the challenging opportunity to ride in the front passenger seat. John, my son, and Bubba, Doc's son, were on the team. The trip was something to remember.

 Just think about it--traveling with thirteen excited boys, 8 to 10 years old, for almost an hour with an air conditioner putting out limited cool air. The noise was so loud sometimes that Doc and I could hardly hear each other. But finally we arrived at the ballpark. Doc and I felt like we had already played the game. But the players' energy had not been diminished in the least on the trip. 

Well, the game was played in the heat of the late afternoon sun and our team lost. The season was suddenly over and we made preparations to return to Adamsville after the boys got themselves something to eat at the concession stand. The only good thing about the return trip was it was now night and the temperature was somewhat cooler. The boys were sweating and eating and their emotions were all over the place as they made their way back to the church van. Doc and I began to feel some apprehension about the return trip with a vanload of tired, hot, overly stimulated boys. And if the noise was bad going down, what would it be like going back?! 

Out of the blue a thought came to me as we approached the parking lot. I would introduce them to the black panther story. It just might work for awhile. We had less than an hour's drive ahead of us--anything was worth a try. As we were turning onto Highway 57, I got their attention and told them I wanted them to listen. They gradually got quiet and I began. It went something like this:

The boys were stirred up as they made preparations to go frog gigging about eight miles down the Old Jacksonville Highway to Jack's Lake. It was a warm night and the full moon made it easy to see. Steve and Glenn had been to Jack's Lake before, but Paul had never been and, being about 4 years younger, he kept pestering them to go. They had finally agreed  for him to go but he would have to carry the tow sack that would hold the captured frogs. Man, was he excited to be going! He had been by Jack's house before but never frog gigging and never at night. 

Soon, it was time to head out. The boys got their supplies loaded in Uncle George's car. Uncle George, Steve's father, drove the eight mile journey down the Old Jacksonville Highway to an abandoned, decrepit, white house that was located about one hundred yards off of the main road. Adjacent to the house was a sandy road that was about three hundred yards in length which led to Jack's Lake. This lake was named after a retired African-American farmer who had lived in this old unpainted house adjacent to the lake and had been vacant since his death. The boys had heard rumors of ghosts living there now. And, on this night with a full moon, things became increasingly scary for the boys, especially Paul.

When Uncle George dropped the boys off at the path leading to the property, he told them that he would return at 9:30 p.m. to pick them up. This would give the boys about an hour and a half for their adventure. As Steve, Glenn, and Paul scrambled out of the car with their necessary equipment, it was somehow comforting to see Big Boy jump out of the front seat and take off ahead of them. Big Boy was a mixed breed of lab and collie. He would go everywhere the boys went; he had been on such adventures as this before. He seemed to know just where to go as he ran ahead down the sandy road where grass grew in the middle since it wasn't travelled much anymore.  

Steve, holding the flashlight, and Glenn, carrying the frog gigging equipment, set off down the path running after Big Boy. Paul brought up the rear lugging the tow sack. The moon was so bright this night that the flashlight was not even necessary.  

As the boys hurried down the road barefooted, their blue jeans rolled up to mid-calf, they were mindful to stay out of the middle of the road where the sticker burrs were. They could feel the sand oozing between their toes as they trod on this fifteen minute walk to the lake. The old abandoned house lay gloomily in the distance. Steve and Glenn had seen the house at night but this was the first sight of it at night for Paul, who began to feel somewhat eerie and fearful. Did a ghost really live there? But he surely didn't want the older boys to know about his apprehension. With Big Boy in the lead and chasing every sound, on they went. 

Finally drawing closer to the lake, the ground began to be wet on their bare feet and now mud instead of sand began to squeeze between their toes. It was such a beautiful site to see the moon's reflection on the lake. Big Boy was now running into the water and Steve hollered at him to get out of it. The dog made dashing leaps out of the lake and soon the waves and splashes he had made settled down. In a very short time the boys began to hear the frogs croaking in the distance. The sounds seem to echo across the lake like musicians warming up in an orchestra before a grand performance. It was a wonderful sound. 

As the older boys made their way around, moving toward the sound of the frogs, Paul struggled to keep up. Walking through the shallow water and mud was a new experience for him. But did he quit or complain? No! He had begged to go and now it was a dream come true. Then, all of sudden, Steve spotted a huge frog and shined his flashlight on it. Glenn quickly cocked the frog gig and procedurally apprehended the target. Quick as a wink it snapped. The boys had their first frog.

 Glenn quickly disconnected the frog from the claws of his frog gig and placed it in the tow sack that Paul held open. The process was repeated continually as the boys began to catch more and more. The night was so bright that they could see quite clearly without any artificial light.

Time seem to fly but the boys glanced at their watch from time to time. By now Uncle George was scheduled to meet them in about thirty minutes. Soon they would need to start back to the main road.

The frogs in the sack now numbered in the teens and it was getting hard for Paul to keep up and to stay out of the water. He was not complaining but he was tired. Still, he would not change a thing. He was finally getting to run with the big guys.

Then, in a sudden moment, a bloodcurdling sound came out of the bottom, south of the lake. It sounded like a woman screaming from the top of her lungs. Everyone stopped immediately, even Big Boy. The hair on the back of his neck stood straight up. Though the boys were thoroughly spooked now, they slowly resumed their gigging--until-- they heard that sound again! Was it even closer this time? No hesitation now! Steve and Glenn took off, especially when they saw Big Boy high-tailing it up the sandy road toward the highway. 

Moving fast, the boys heard the scream bearing down on them. Paul was terribly alarmed and tried to stay as close to them as he could. As the older guys held onto their equipment, Paul was determined to hold tightly to the sack of frogs as well. Then it happened! That hair-raising scream again!

That did it! The boys tossed their supplies down and started to break into a trot. Running in the sand is never easy and Paul, bringing up the rear, getting farther and farther behind, was heavily burdened with that sack of frogs. Suddenly, he flung it to one side. Then the scream reached their ears once more.

Earlier that evening, the boys had walked into the living room where Uncle George had been watching the local news at 6:00. The broadcaster reported that a black panther had escaped from the Caldwell Zoo sometime that week. The panther had killed a local farmer's calf and people were warned to be on the alert. 

As the boys continued to hurry toward the arranged meeting spot, they were hoping and praying that Uncle George would be there. They were now in a dead run and Paul was getting farther and farther behind. Beside that, the screams were getting closer by the second.

As Steve and Glenn reached the back of the old abandoned white house they could see in the distance ahead that George was there! Thank goodness! They raced to the car with all their might. But as they scrambled into the safety of the vehicle they turned to look for Paul, with George gasping for breath and asking, "Where is he?" Simultaneously they said, "He is coming I hope!" Then that dreadful bone-chilling scream resounded again through the night air. Then dimly they could see about fifty yards away that Paul was struggling to run in the sand. He was making progress but there was a black object now appearing in their vision. It looked like a very large black cat. It WAS a very LARGE CAT--THE BLACK PANTHER!

As they hollered and encouraged Paul at the top of their voices, they could see the large black object moving in. Now Steve was slowly making a crack in the door, preparing to open it, yelling encouragement along with Glenn, as Paul drew within ten yards of the car. George was frantically honking the horn, hoping to distract the black panther. 

For the last few minutes the older boys had felt extremely guilty for leaving Paul behind and now it may cost him his life. 

But it happened, as Paul approached the car, jumped, and dove headfirst into the backseat through the opened door and as Steve, reaching over from the front seat, grabbed the door and shut it just in time, that the panther slammed his entire body into the closed door with a horrendous thud! But Paul was finally safe! They were all safe!

 But Big Boy was nowhere to be seen.

There was no conversation in the car as the three boys and Uncle George slowly rode toward home. The silence said everything. And as the car pulled into the driveway, who do you think was there to greet them? Big Boy! He came into view, running and yipping with glee to greet them, panting and frantically wagging his tail. He had run the eight miles home.  What an adventure!

So the story ended. I had tried to draw it out and milk it for all it was worth for the entire time. The young teammates paid rapt attention and were so captivated that you did not hear a word or a sound. Their minds had been entirely focused for nearly an hour. I reached the dramatic ending of the story as we passed through the (only) red light in Adamsville. In another quarter of a mile we were in front of Piggly Wiggly, where the parents were waiting to pick up their boys.

As it turned out, our return trip was actually enjoyable. Doc and I still talk about that night even though neither of us can remember who we played or the score of the game. I have often wondered how the boys slept that night. 

Sometimes it's necessary for us to think outside the box. I drew from a childhood experience with my cousin, named Steve, and his dad, Uncle George, a friend named Glenn, frog gigging off an old dirt road, and a report of an escaped panther from Caldwell Zoo (and my first name, Paul). In this story, it was taking some facts and fictionalizing them in order to make it sensational enough to capture the attention of that gang of youngsters. In the realm of necessity, leadership understands that adversity sometimes can be the mother of invention.

Remember, I believe we are all leaders regardless of our position.