Cornelius Gentry Alexander

     Writing this is a labor of love. Few people in the world have as many facets as Cornelius.  He was as pure a character as anyone I ever knew. A book could be written about him. I am proud to carry his name.

            Cornelius Gentry Alexander was the third of six children born to Samuel Logan Pinckney and Anna Mae Carroll Alexander. He entered this world on March 9, 1916 . He was the third of six children. He was preceded by Clarice Gladys and Hershel Wilson. Mark David, Jessie Anna Lee, and Harold Logan followed. His father was a miner and minister. Logan was stern-but fair. His mother was abusive, especially to Cornelius and Mark David.

            He grew up in the Hodgetown and Slabtown communities around Sale Creek , Tennessee .  He and his brother, Mark David, developed a strong bond which remained throughout their lives. They fished, hunted, and camped some but they were usually found working in the fields. Times were hard when they came up through the 1920’s and 30’s. Hard worked was a demand.

            Okay, you ask, what about the difference in his name? Was it Gentry or George? He was named Gentry, but he didn’t like it so later on he just changed it. He failed, however, to tell the Social Security Administration and it created some problems when he retired. To family and friends, he was called “Neeny”. Later, he became known to folks as, “Sale Creek”. Here was one person who did not care whether people knew where it was or not; he told them where he was from and wasn’t ashamed of it.

            Neeny attended school in Sale Creek, although he wasn’t particularly fond of it. In the 5th grade, the teacher gave everyone an assignment to learn a poem. As time went on, Neeny had not learned it even though the teacher repeatedly asked him to recite it. Finally, in desperation, the teacher told Neeny, “Cornelius, tomorrow, I want you to recite the poem”. The next day, he was instructed to recite it and Neeny informed the teacher that he could not. He was then given an ultimatum, “Go home and don’t come back until you know the poem”! He did exactly as directed, he never went back! It’s ironic, but he married a school teacher.

            Neeny had a mind of his own. Once he hopped aboard a railway boxcar and took off to Cincinnati . I guess he just “forgot” to tell anyone he was going. Coincidentally, the same wayward winds caused Mark David to do the same a few years later.

            When World War II came, Neeny went into the Army.  He received training at Camp Forest , near Tullahoma , TN. From there, he was shipped to the battlegrounds of New Guinea and Australia . He was attached to the Signal Corp, which provided communications for the Allied Forces. The aggressive Japanese Army and Air Force provided brutal shelling and bombing of our forces and airfields. Neeny was right there in it. Even after 35-40 years, recalling his war experience was painful. He shared some of his memories and some mementos with me and I cherished them.

            Wherever Neeny was, there was always a new challenge for him. He found a horse, ammunition crates, and artillery wheels (their previous owners were the Japanese) and fashioned a horse-drawn cart. On the back of the cart, he painted, “Tojo’s Old Used-to-Be”, referring, of course, to the Japanese leader, General Hideko Tojo, who was later hung as a war criminal. Neeny paraded his cart with pride.  Later, he found another horse and entered it in a horse race in Australia .  They didn’t win but had fun doing it. He contracted malaria which put him the hospital and eventually he was discharged having served honorably and with humility.

            Sometime in the 1950’s, he married a local lady, Eva Edens, a school teacher. (She was the daughter of Charles and Mary Childress Edens and was a twin. Eva and Reva Effie were born Feb 10, 1913 ). It just so happened that on their wedding night, Elmer Owenby, his friend, came by and asked, “Neeny, you want to go coon huntin’?” Neeny replied, “Shalk’s, might as well.” He got his stuff and went! I guess he figured his new bride would be there when he got back. But, she packed her bag and went back to her parent’s house. I reckon they got it straightened out but I’ll bet she never let him forget it.

            Cornelius had a mule that got out of its pen and worked its way right up to the top of Pea Ridge. He looked and looked until he found it. He then walked back home, got his car, drove to the Burton Hollow Road, tied the mule to it, and drug the mule most of the way home. That’s not all! He led it right back up Pea Ridge-and shot it!

            A fellow worker at Hale’s Bar Dam Project kept trying to give Neeny a real “good” squirrel dog. Neeny didn’t want it but finally the fellow was so insistent, he brought the dog home. Before he took the dog hunting, he informed the dog, “Fiddlesticks, if you don’t tree a squirrel, you ain’t comin’ back.” Neeny returned home-alone!

            He had little patience with anything that wouldn’t cooperate. He had a couple of steers in a fenced-in pine thicket. He looked for them and couldn’t find them, then he enlisted the help of us boys. No one had seen them. He was mad, had his gun, and was looking for the “outfits” (as he called them). After hours of looking, we were walking back through the same pine thicket. The steers, which had been lying down under some muscadine vines, got to their feet. Fresh beef was now on the menu!

            Neeny owned a horse and wagon.  He would ride it down to Lane’s Store near the railroad. Once, when he was down there, a freight train came through blowing its whistle and belching smoke and steam. It spooked the horse-and it took off. Neeny was on the seat with reins in hand, pulling and yelling- going round and round the store. Finally, he was in control and he figured that horse wanted to run- so, he made it run all the way home. A few years later, he and I had been plowing a piece of land near the school. On our way home, we approached the railroad and he stopped to listen for a train. Sure enough, one was coming from the north. Uncle Neeny told me to get out of the wagon just in case “Old Fiddlestick’s” took off. He tied the reins around an electric pole-and held the horse in a hammerlock until the train passed. Whew!

            He worked for the TVA and often out of state.  It was said, by those who worked with him, that he had money in banks he had forgotten about. But, not only was he thrifty, he was a generous person. He might give someone money and never think about it again. Neeny had another trait-he was trusting, but not to a fault. If money was borrowed from him, it was expected to be paid-and on time. Once, in a northern state, a fellow borrowed money from him, promising to repay it on payday. Payday’s came and went but the fellow never showed up. It so happened, sometime later, Neeny and a friend entered a restaurant and there sat the borrower with some friends. Neeny got up, went over to the fellow, gave him a good whipping right there, and told him, “That’s a dollar’s worth! I’m going to take a dollar out your hide every time I see you until I get my money back!”

            Neeny loved to ride horses-any kind. He had a little pony and he rode it over to Mom and Dad’s house, which was about 4.2 miles. His feet almost touched the ground. They kind of laughed at him on that little pony. He told them, “Buddy-ro, when I reach up and get a hank of hair (the mane), he knows I’m ready to go.” He had a vocabulary of his own. He called things “Fiddlesticks”, “Fiddlemonkey” or “Outfits” and added “Ro” to names or things.

            Cornelius enjoyed going to the Senior Citizen’s meetings, especially in Red Bank. He particularly enjoyed dancing. He could “cut a rug” or “shake a leg” with any ladies who wanted to dance-and he got a kick out of it. Once Eva had a doctor’s appointment which conflicted with the senior gathering. Neeny dropped her off-and went to the meeting.  He simply did not return! She was left stranded-and furious. I’m not sure she ever let him forget about it either.

            Although he was one tough person, he had some unpleasant experiences. He was working for the TVA, stringing high-tension lines, using the drag line method to pull the cable. As a caterpillar pulled the cable through the woods, “spotters” were spaced along to warn workers when the cable was to be pulled. Something went awry! As Neeny stepped across a loose line, it was pulled taut and threw him though the air.  He spent a long time recovering from injuries.

            His career and life almost ended a few time’s. He was constructing towers for electrical transmission lines. Two cross braces were to be connected between the tower legs to prevent swaying and collapse. Each brace was secured to the legs by bolts then a worker must get out in the middle of the “X” and bolt the two together. His was secured and he went out to bolt the two together.  The other had not been properly anchored.  It fell away leaving Neeny crashing to the earth, shattering his foot and causing him years of pain.

            I fondly remember him spending so much time with me when I was a kid. He was a practical joker though. Once, Frank Hodge, Uncle Neeny, and I were squirrel hunting when he told me he heard wild hogs coming.  He instructed me to climb a small tree, which I did, only to be told that the hogs would probably root the tree down. It took me a little while to realize that I had been duped.  Another time, he asked me to go hunting with him.  My mother was making Jello before I left. During our hunt, I remarked, “I hope Mama saves me some Jello.” From then on, his teasings included, “Mama, save me some Jello”.

            He found the oddest things funny. We were hunting near Burton Hollow and I became thirsty. We crossed a stream and he told me that it would be a good place to drink.  I lay down and got myself a good, long, cool drink. When I got up, we walked about 15 feet upstream and there, laying in the stream, was-a dead dog! He thought that was funny but I didn’t.  Perhaps he laughed about it so I would not worry too much.  

 After I retired from the military, I visited him on occasions and we would have a good time.  I enjoyed listening to him. I only wish I had spent more time with him, but, unfortunately, most of us get caught up in our own life so much we fail to spend time with one’s we love. He shared his WWII items with me and they are precious.

             In the mid 50’s, Cornelius and Eva had a daughter, Connie Lee. Connie was, indeed, a treasure. She was a bright spot in Neeny and Eva’s life. She was successful in business and a source of pride to all of us.  She was so good for her parents and Uncle Neeny loved to talk about her.

            Neeny had spent much time at the VA Hospital in Nashville . He endured numerous operations to remove skin cancers. The injuries from his career, painful recovery from the surgeries, and just feeling miserable weighed heavily upon him. The skin surgeries were not healing. He had stated that he would never be a burden to anyone On August 17, 1991, he and Eva went for a walk up Gothard Lane looking at flowers and different things.  Upon their return, she entered the house and heard the report of a gun. Neeny had used his 12 gauge shotgun and taken his own life. This was devastating to everyone! Was it desperation-or was it courage? How could this truly, colorful character commit such an act? We loved him just for being himself! It took courage to do that but oh, how we have been pained by it. It just hurts my heart to even write about it.

            Cornelius George Alexander was a giving person and he gave us laughter. The laughing was not at him, it was “with him”. He taught us humility. He was a naturally funny person, and never pretentious. He was “Sale Creek”! About 8 years after his death, a mutual friend, Ivan Krauth, came up to me and said, “I didn’t know that Alexander that died was your uncle, until I saw it in the newspaper.” I confirmed that Cornelius was, indeed, my uncle, and that I proudly carried his name, Rexford Cornelius Alexander. Ivan responded, “I just knew him as Sale Creek-I didn’t know what his real name was. Boy, he was a real character, wasn’t he?”

            Thanks, Uncle Neeny, you were one of a kind. You were loved by so many- and you were ours!   Your memory will always be with us.

EVA MAE EDENS ALEXANDER

Born: Feb 10, 1913

Died: Jan 10, 2004

Children: Connie Lee Alexander

Compiled and Submitted by Rexford C. Alexander
rexcalex@bellsouth.net