If I had even mentioned to my Momma or Daddy that I wanted to get a tattoo, they would have given me a good tongue-lashing. If I came home with one they would have banished me from their home and told me to become a hobo. As far as I know only one guy in my high school class at Laurinburg High back in the 1940’s ever had someone puncture his skin with such a foreign substance as ink!

There was only one exception. He was Edwin Monroe. He was known as Skunky Monroe. I can’t recall why he was given that nickname. But we all had nick names and most of them were not exactly nice.

I’m not obliged to tell you what mine was, but it certainly wasn’t Skunky, because whether I needed it or not in those days my parents forced me to have a hot bath every Saturday night in preparation for going to the Presbyterian Church on Sunday. We all were poor people back in those days of the Great Depression. We had to crank up the old wood-fired water heater and get enough hot water to scrub down my sister and me and later my parents. Fortunately, there were only two children in the family because that was about all the vegetables that we were able to grow in our small garden. But I had to save some of the vegetables to peddle to the more wealthy people who had a job in the factory.

But back to the only guy in my high school class who ever got a tattoo. Ed Monroe got his college degree and then went to Med School and received a license to practice medicine. He returned to medical school for further education and became a well-respected surgeon. Can you imagine a surgeon who had a tattoo? I never did know if he performed surgery on himself and removed that old red rose from his skillful hand.

In those days, there were two school systems – one for whites and one for Negroes. And our class was very small. A large number of the guys decided to join the armed forces rather than stay in school, or work in cotton mills or on the farm. So we had only a very few guys to graduate from Laurinburg High in my class of 1944.

I was editor of the Laurinburg High School newspaper. It was aptly entitled “The Scotchman.” And the team was known as the “Fighting Scotchmen.” I went out for the team in my early days at Laurinburg High, but I soon decided that I was too small to play the game and became editor of the school newspaper. I’m glad I had the good sense not to keep plugging away at 105 pounds of flesh and end up with busted lips and broken bones.

In addition to Ed Monroe, we had some other very well-known people in my class. John F. McNair III who became a banker of great esteem heads the list. Hewitt Fulton became a well-respected minister and there were others who managed to graduate from LHS and make their way into the world and become well known and rather wealthy.

I regret that I have not gone back to Laurinburg to check up on my old friends. I have returned a few times after graduation, but after coming to Asheboro I had to keep near our home base to administer the affairs of this newspaper, until I sold it to other capable editors.

And I had a growing family of three beautiful girls and now lovely grandchildren and one grandson who now is a student at the University of Virginia.

Perhaps one of these days Littlie Barron Mills will get back to Laurinburg High School and cheer on the Fighting Scots. And perhaps I can persuade some of my children and grandchildren also to come with me. And Barbara of course. I don’t believe she has ever been there.



Barron Mills is a former editor and publisher of The Randolph Guide. He lives in Asheboro.