In the late ’40s and early ’50s under the shadow of Mt. Pisgah, boys made slingshots or bean shooters, which is what we called them. I would spend hours in the woods behind the house looking for that perfect one. Everyone knew dogwood made the very best, so while laurel was good, the dogwood was the beanshooter of choice. I would find some I liked and would cut them with my old one-handled Barlow pocket knife. Which I also carried to school, imagine that. I would put them behind the wood-burning cookstove and cure them out, then whittle and shape them. If the prongs were too wide I would bend them inward and tie them with baling string till they cured. Everyone knew that red inter tube rubber was the best cause it would stretch further. My dad would get me some from the Enka plant where he worked. Upon reflection, I suspect he got it from a fellow employee. I cut the intertube rubber into strips about one-half inch wide, usually, I sneaked Mom’s sewing scissors out to cut it. I would loop the rubber over the prong and with a couple notches cut into the prong, tie the rubber good and tight. The leather for the sling was always a challenger. I did make one mistake and cut the tongue out of my dad’s boot. Only one time. I would cut the leather around 2 inches long and wide. Carefully cut two holes in each end and run the end of the red rubber through the hole, and lap it, and tie it tight. I had to use Mom’s sewing thread most of the time, so I had to double it. I would sneak out the thread when Mom wasn’t looking. But in hindsight, I think she knew everything I did. I still wonder how she could possibly know when I acted up in Church. She sat about halfway up and I would be on the back row directly behind her. And she never looked around but she knew. Somehow. Sometimes I carried two of them just in case one broke. We used rocks for ammo and shot at everything. I consider the bean shooters to have been a wonderful part of growing up under the shadow of Mount Pisgah. The fact is I got my one handled Barlow with the tip broke off the big blade trading a good beanshooter. Like marbles during that time, they were constantly being traded. I have some now that are not finished and I have two that are, just in case. So if you see a white haired 77-year-old man with a beanshooter in his back pocket, just ignore him, he’s living in another time…
As a boy I climbed Mt Pisgah every chance I could Always, looking for that perfect dogwood
At the top of a sapling the forks would be The perfect beanshooter just waiting for me.
With my trusty Barlow, I cut out the top
And put it behind Mom’s cookstove to cure a lot And one thing that had to stand up to a boy’s test Was that red intertube rubber, for it was the best…
From Enka Dad found me red rubber to use For it was stronger and stretched further too But for the leather sling it was ready to shoot
And I found a sling in the tongue of one of Dad’s boots
The slingshot was perfect and one of a kind And so was Dad’s belt which tore up my behind The perfect slingshot had lost its charm I felt For every time I shot it I could feel Dad’s belt….
So to Hugh Watts, I traded the bean shooter too For ten chinquapins and an agate or two
So back to the woods to find the perfect one And not Dad’s boots again, I ain’t that dumb……
Jb