GEORGE JONES & THE DIXIE PIG

 4200

During the 1950's, we moved from a perfectly good concrete block home in the Miami  area to a wooden frame house in the quaint little town of Highland City, Florida. 

My grandfather was already living in central Florida, and was the owner-operator of an establishment he named, "The Dixie Pig." As I reflect on it now, I don't recall ever walking through the front door. However, I do recall the cartoon-like caricature of a pig on the sign which graced its entrance.

Over the next sixty something years, (Yeah, I'm an old guy), I was under the assumption that "The Dixie Pig" was a barbeque place. I mean, there was the pig and the title. What else could it have possibly been? However, to be fair, I don't remember asking my dad or mom about the place; (but then they never volunteered anything either).

In the past couple of days everything I knew and believed about that "barbeque place" (at least figuratively) "went up in smoke."

For you see, there is a group page on Facebook which is dedicated to that little unincorporated town in central Florida, and I happened to post a paragraph or two about my granddad and his "Dixie Pig." And, as you might imagine, I mentioned my perception of the type of cuisine which this particular establishment served; (a faulty belief which I had embraced for the past six plus decades).

And this is when the floodgates opened, and all my illusions, (or should I say delusions), were (almost literally) washed away.

For you see, with this, one person after another offered me some enlightening comments about the nature of my grandfather's business.

"Hmmm, if The Dixie Pig was a barbeque place, those pigs must have been raised on a diet of pure grain alcohol 'cause my dad was a regular customer, and he came home plastered every night of the week!"

(and)

"I filled my tank there more times than I can count."

(and)

"They even had go go girls there!"

(Dear readers, can you imagine go go girls in Highland City)?

But to top it all off, the most surprising comment of them all.

"George Jones would ride up to The Dixie Pig on his riding lawnmower!" 

(And a couple more people dittoed this remark).

But, as Paul Harvey was prone to say, there is, obviously, a "rest of the story."

George Jones and Tammy Wynette had built a home, (well, a mansion) a mile or two down the road. (The mansion is still there, though old George and sweet Tammy have long since "left the building").

George had been ticketed numerous times for DUI. (There's even a Youtube video of the old boy resisting arrest). And there's plenty of internet articles which inform us that Tammy always hid his keys when he "got the urge" for liquid refreshment. It is said that the country singer's first wife had resorted to the same course of action, and that when he lived in Nashville, he had driven his... riding lawnmower to a liquor store an hour and a half away. (All of which is "new and different" to me since my wife made me aware of these stories, after I read the foregoing social media comments about old George to her).

In my day and time, children were "meant to be seen and not heard," (which pretty well sums up the relationship I had with both my grandfathers). But "had I known then what I know now" I would have quizzed old Webster about his memories of old George, the lawnmower, and "The Dixie Pig."

The humble little "Dixie Pig" and its Highland City version of "Porky Pig" out front has been gone more than sixty years now, and has been replaced by a modern office building. (When I sit in a current Highland City establishment called "Catfish Country," and have lunch with several of my friends, and look across the street, I can still envision it there).

To be sure, I don't drink, and I have little or no use for people who get out on our highways in an inebriated state, and put other peoples' lives in danger. (And it goes without saying, I wasn't thrilled to learn that my recollections of "The Dixie Pig" and its raison d'etre were woefully wrong).

But it is what it is, and it was what it was, and to be honest, I would love to hear the stories my grandfather might have told me about old George and the nights he drove his riding lawnmower to "The Dixie Pig."

Did the bar patrons gather in the parking lot to welcome him when the familiar roar of his lawnmower broke the silence of a moonlit night? Did a drunken old country singer do an acapella version of "A Girl I Used to Know" or "I Can't Get There From Here" halfway through his nightly tenure at "The Dixie Pig?" Did my granddad and old George strike up a lop-sided relationship? Did Wilbur and Winnie wake up about 2am to the roar of a riding lawnmower? 

Did Wilbur shake his head, and remark, "There ole George goes again," before the sand man sprinkled a little more fairy dust in their eyes, and sleep overcame them once more. 

by William McDonald, PhD