Story by Maylon Rice
Each and every week, as the Warren Lumberjacks prepare to lay their axe to the foes all across Southeast Arkansas, I look for that ever popular FACEBOOK challenge to shout out a "Go, Lumberjacks!" from all across America.
And week after week, I read all the names of those chiming in and all the places from across this great state of Arkansas, and yes, the entire United States for these short, yet, enthusiastic shout-outs. It brings back memories of names, places and long-lost classmates and Warren-ites.
But it wasn’t always this easy to get the score of the Lumberjack contests when the Orange and Black played a road game.
Heck, in the dark ages before cell phone and the Internet, it was hard to get a score from O.O. Axley Field, which is was scant three good blocks from the hub of social central in Warren – Wayne’s.
-
The old Wayne’s isn’t there anymore.
Time moves on, but for many who grew up in Warren and Bradley County over the last 60 years, Wayne’s Confectionary was THE place to be.
I’ll never forget covering an early campaign for former U.S. Senate, Governor, Congressman and State Rep. David H. Pryor and his love for Wayne’s
“If I ever get to Warren, I have to go by Wayne’s Drugstore,” said Pryor.
The place was never a drugstore, but it did take me to pulling out the old Merriam-Webster to figure out what a Confectionary was.
Yes, Wayne’s with a large magazine rack – that covered from front door to front door across the Courthouse side and two spinning racks of nothing but comic books, often caught my attention.
I can still see that long blue Formica counter with the red vinyl topped stools (if you wanted to sit at the counter) or those black-topped tables with polished steel edges and legs (and chairs to match).
But for this time of year when the Lumberjacks were slogging away at O.O. Axley Field (behind the old high school which is now, sadly gone) there was no live streaming on a personal computer.
There was no radio broadcast live from the game.
KWRF in those days recorded the game on a tape recorder and played the game on Saturday mornings.
But there was an instant scoreboard for all the fans – a little 8 x 10 inch blackboard inside Wayne’s northeastern door (by the lunch counter).
That little blackboard was indeed a forerunner of the internet.
All the Lumberjacks athletic scores (football and basketball) were immediately posted when a phone call came into Wayne’s.
The late Paul Whitaker, who worked at Wayne’s since the 1940s, wrote the score in big letters and numbers so he could see the score way back down the lunch counter when the calls came in… and boy, did that telephone ring there on a Friday night.
Already about 8 to 9 p.m. there was a steady stream of Warren regulars who would drive up to Wayne’s for a late night cup of coffee, a “hot bun” for the kiddos.
A “hot bun” was a bare naked hot dog bun, slathered in butter and smashed flag on a steam press until it was hot, buttery and baked like a grilled-cheese sandwich.
That crowd only increased on a Friday night if the Lumberjacks were on the road playing football or basketball.
Usually, Warren’s long time Chief of Police, the late Tommy Dunaway, would radio in the out of town score to the Warren Police Department on his police radio from such places at Camden, Smackover, Arkadelphia, Magnolia, Lake Village, Hamburg or Monticello.
Either Warren’s Fire Chief Freddy Watts or his longtime assistant Eddie Wayne Latham, whomever was on duty, as the night dispatcher at the old police/fire station just off the Square on Myrtle street, would call Wayne’s and Paul would post the score.
If the Lumberjacks won, Whitaker would always tease and play with the callers over the telephone.
He would stall the caller asking all kinds of mundane questions before giving out the good news of the Orange and Black’s victory.
If the ‘Jacks lost, Whitaker was quick to give out the score and hurry off the telephone.
He took the wins and losses of the Orange and Black, as serious as did the caller.
I can see his scrawl with a piece of white chalk on that chipped and scarred blackboard now.
‘Jacks 6
Eudora 0.
And back in the day, that was a b-i-g win.
Yes, Sir, A big conference win.
Just another Pastime of a simpler time, when a small chalk board united a community with the communication of a Friday night football victory, to a community hungry for good news and a hot bun and a cup of strong black coffee.
Each and every week, as the Warren Lumberjacks prepare to lay their axe to the foes all across Southeast Arkansas, I look for that ever popular FACEBOOK challenge to shout out a "Go, Lumberjacks!" from all across America.
And week after week, I read all the names of those chiming in and all the places from across this great state of Arkansas, and yes, the entire United States for these short, yet, enthusiastic shout-outs. It brings back memories of names, places and long-lost classmates and Warren-ites.
But it wasn’t always this easy to get the score of the Lumberjack contests when the Orange and Black played a road game.
Heck, in the dark ages before cell phone and the Internet, it was hard to get a score from O.O. Axley Field, which is was scant three good blocks from the hub of social central in Warren – Wayne’s.
-
The old Wayne’s isn’t there anymore.
Time moves on, but for many who grew up in Warren and Bradley County over the last 60 years, Wayne’s Confectionary was THE place to be.
I’ll never forget covering an early campaign for former U.S. Senate, Governor, Congressman and State Rep. David H. Pryor and his love for Wayne’s
“If I ever get to Warren, I have to go by Wayne’s Drugstore,” said Pryor.
The place was never a drugstore, but it did take me to pulling out the old Merriam-Webster to figure out what a Confectionary was.
Yes, Wayne’s with a large magazine rack – that covered from front door to front door across the Courthouse side and two spinning racks of nothing but comic books, often caught my attention.
I can still see that long blue Formica counter with the red vinyl topped stools (if you wanted to sit at the counter) or those black-topped tables with polished steel edges and legs (and chairs to match).
But for this time of year when the Lumberjacks were slogging away at O.O. Axley Field (behind the old high school which is now, sadly gone) there was no live streaming on a personal computer.
There was no radio broadcast live from the game.
KWRF in those days recorded the game on a tape recorder and played the game on Saturday mornings.
But there was an instant scoreboard for all the fans – a little 8 x 10 inch blackboard inside Wayne’s northeastern door (by the lunch counter).
That little blackboard was indeed a forerunner of the internet.
All the Lumberjacks athletic scores (football and basketball) were immediately posted when a phone call came into Wayne’s.
The late Paul Whitaker, who worked at Wayne’s since the 1940s, wrote the score in big letters and numbers so he could see the score way back down the lunch counter when the calls came in… and boy, did that telephone ring there on a Friday night.
Already about 8 to 9 p.m. there was a steady stream of Warren regulars who would drive up to Wayne’s for a late night cup of coffee, a “hot bun” for the kiddos.
A “hot bun” was a bare naked hot dog bun, slathered in butter and smashed flag on a steam press until it was hot, buttery and baked like a grilled-cheese sandwich.
That crowd only increased on a Friday night if the Lumberjacks were on the road playing football or basketball.
Usually, Warren’s long time Chief of Police, the late Tommy Dunaway, would radio in the out of town score to the Warren Police Department on his police radio from such places at Camden, Smackover, Arkadelphia, Magnolia, Lake Village, Hamburg or Monticello.
Either Warren’s Fire Chief Freddy Watts or his longtime assistant Eddie Wayne Latham, whomever was on duty, as the night dispatcher at the old police/fire station just off the Square on Myrtle street, would call Wayne’s and Paul would post the score.
If the Lumberjacks won, Whitaker would always tease and play with the callers over the telephone.
He would stall the caller asking all kinds of mundane questions before giving out the good news of the Orange and Black’s victory.
If the ‘Jacks lost, Whitaker was quick to give out the score and hurry off the telephone.
He took the wins and losses of the Orange and Black, as serious as did the caller.
I can see his scrawl with a piece of white chalk on that chipped and scarred blackboard now.
‘Jacks 6
Eudora 0.
And back in the day, that was a b-i-g win.
Yes, Sir, A big conference win.
Just another Pastime of a simpler time, when a small chalk board united a community with the communication of a Friday night football victory, to a community hungry for good news and a hot bun and a cup of strong black coffee.
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