By David O. Heishman –
Peewee Spring. North out of Wardensville on State Route 259 about three miles. North foot of Crest Hill.
There is a small red brick building East side of the highway, a small pull over parking area in front. Whole place has the appearance of being built for public use, and it was. I remember Pap saying it was a liquor store, but that was before I knew about such things. In my time it was a small, quiet country beer joint.
Bar on the right as you went through front door. William C. “Bill”, “Billie Boy” Baker ran the show from behind it. Most folks called him Bill, but he’d refer to himself as Billie Boy occasionally. I liked him and I think he liked me. He knew me as “Doc’s Boy” a fact which may have contributed to my ability to buy beer there before I turned eighteen. Pap took me along on veterinary calls to help hold Bill’s sheep while we doctored them.
West side of the highway, directly across from the building was a concrete trough, a steady stream of cold clear water running through it. Wonderful water. Motorists stopped in their travels to get a drink and local folks with hard water wells dipped up and hauled drinking water from it. I remember that spring trough as well as or better than the bar.
A hot summer sometime in my early teens. Pap had arranged to clean out two of the biggest chicken houses in Capon Valley for Mr Jim Westfall who lived near Peewee. Pap was building fertility in our river bottom pasture land back then, and decided Mr. Westfalls poultry manure would help. Pap hired Sammy Heishman, a distant cousin my age who also lived on Crest Hill to help hand scoop all that manure. Bob Peyton, who worked on our farm, drove an old lime spreader truck Pap had borrowed and kept Sammy’s and my noses to the grindstone.