A Memory Not Forgotten: The Wooden Bridge and The Paycheck

 

The Day We Saved the Music: A 1960 St. Charles Memory


Here Jess second from right is playing music during the coal strike. Jess and his fellow musicians played at our last family reunion in the late 70s.

In the small town of St. Charles, Virginia, life in 1960 revolved around simple landmarks: the narrow hollows, the coal mines that sustained us, and the steady flow of Straight Creek. Most of us who grew up there remember the old wooden bridge—a place where local boys like me and my friend Bill Munsey spent many afternoons.

A Childhood Crisis on the Bridge

One afternoon, a young girl named Dianna Pennington came running across that bridge. She was in a hurry, sent by her mother to the bank to cash her father's paycheck. In her rush, she tripped, and we watched in horror as a small brown envelope—the family’s livelihood for the week—slipped through the wooden slats and into the water.

Dianna was "scared half to death" and crying, but luckily, the creek was calm that day. We didn't just watch it go; we took off.



The Three-Block Chase

The chase was on. We scrambled down the bank, following that envelope as it bobbed along the current. We raced past the houses and stores for about three blocks, finally catching up to it behind the old jail where the water was shallow enough to wade in and retrieve it.

The relief on that little girl's face when we handed her the (thankfully) dry envelope is a memory that has stayed with both of us for over 60 years.


        We caught up with the envelope beside the town jail. Back then the jail was the bottom building and later the town added a building on top which now serves the St. Charles Rescue Squad

The Man Behind the Paycheck: Jess Pennington

What we didn't fully realize then was whose hard work that envelope represented. Dianna’s father, Jess Pennington, was a beloved figure in our town. While he worked hard like everyone else, he was best known for his "great ability as a musician."

Jess was the soul of our local reunions, often seen with his instrument in hand, picking tunes with other local musicians. He brought the town together with music, and looking back, I’m so glad we were able to protect a small piece of the life he worked so hard to build.

A Community That Never Forgot

It’s amazing how social media can bring these moments full circle. Seeing Dianna (now Dianna Penter) comment on a post decades later to say "thank you" reminds me of why small towns like St. Charles were so special. We looked out for one another.

The wooden bridge may be gone, replaced by modern steel, and the town's population has shifted from its peak in the 50s, but the spirit of that day behind the jailhouse remains as clear as the water in Straight Creek.

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