The other day I had a serious flashback.  It was something I hadn't thought about for years and years and years.  A person from my hometown mentioned The Jolly Joy.

I was telling Greg about this and how I suddenly was flooded with memories of old black folks talking about this or that thing that happened "down 'tu The Jolly Joy."  Greg asked me what in the world that even meant.  I told him it was our town's Juke Joint.

So I got curious to see if I even knew what a Juke Joint was and if I was even using the term correctly.  So I went to The Most Trusted Source of Information on the Internet. And sho nuf! The Joy Jolly was a bona fide juke joint.  I guess the only difference between the description given on said reference site and The Joy Jolly was that The Jolly Joy wasn't some backwoods shanty.  It was right in the middle of town.  And it was notorious!  There were two places in town where violence (and the gossip of violence and nefarious goings on) took place: The Jolly Joy and the VFW Post.  My brother once suffered a baseball to the skull bone (now known as a head injury or a concussion) and was taken to the emergency room.  While he and my mother waited it out, they wheeled in a man with a bloody knife wound from the VFW Post.  And of course, he was drunk.

But The Jolly Joy was so known for violence and debauchery that good folks didn't even go down west Goliad after 10 at night for fear of what might land on the street in front of The Jolly Joy.  My daddy owned a gas station/car garage on the edge of "that side of town" and employed a few black men over the years. I remember how they would talk about the goings on 'tu The Jolly Joy.  It was interesting the the reference in  The Most Trusted Source of Information on the Internet that they made the claim that some blacks, those seeking white approval, opposed the amorality of the raucous "jook crowd".  I'm not so sure that was the case but I guess it could be true.  I know The Joy Jolly was usually mentioned in sermons about immorality in churches across town.  Many of these churches were populated with some of the same faces that had the night before been down tu The Jolly Joy.

I looked at Google Earth the other day to see if I could find the corner of Goliad and 2nd street where The Jolly Joy stood.  The Jolly Joy has now become a place called "Platinum City."  They host Latino Night every Saturday. Times, they change. 

And it reminded me that for much of my childhood I lived in a town divided and separated by race. And morality.

ADDENDUM:
Over the weekend, I made a super quick trip to Crockett to attend a fundraiser for a childhood friend.  It was held out in a barn on the outskirts of town.  I drove down with an old friend, Darrell.  We were the only white people there- which was cool.  I saw people I haven't seen since high school!

We got to town too early so we went to a restaurant on Goliad.  We were both surprised that Crockett had gone "wet" and the restaurant was serving alcohol at a real, honest, no membership needed bar! I said, "Well, they've just brought it out into the open."
As we were sitting there, I reminded him that The Jolly Joy used to be almost right across the street.  He started laughing and asked if I had ever been inside.  "Of course not!"  I answered.  He said he never had been either but knew friends who had and he had heard all the notorious stories.  We talked about whether or not they were true. We drove around town afterward and recalled so many things. His memories were different than mine but really, really similar (of course). We talked about where people lived.  We drove by our old houses.  We tried to go see his mother but she was in Arizona visiting his brother, John. I tried to get him to push me on the old merry go round that shockingly is still in the park (that thing was always dangerous!!). He turned me down saying there were limits to his nostalgia!  We passed what I thought was the VFW post but it was actually an American Legion post. And a crowd had already started to gather for the night.
Later, after the party as we headed back home, we drove past the old Jolly Joy site.  On all four corners, people were congregated and hanging out.  It was such a stark contrast to the quietness of the rest of town!  We laughed and Darrell threatened to stop.  The spirit of The Jolly Joy must still be strong.