The Pop Bottle Wars of Toto

Greetings to all, and welcome to those coming for the first visit to the East Wing.

One thing I love about the tax season every year, is it’s a time when I get to see so many friends whom I see only once a year, and it seems there’s always one more story to tell.

Last week one such friend of mine, who also grew up in Downtown Toto, asked if I remembered starting the “POP BOTTLE WARS”, and I did.

Now the Pop Bottle Wars were fought for the most noble of causes, to preserve and protect the rights of every little hillbilly boy then and forever in the future, the unbridled freedom to collect discarded returnable pop bottles along both sides of the highways and byways leading to and from Toto Indiana.

Now just like all good planners of all wars, past to the present, I too was convinced that God was on my side.

A few of my decisions when I was twelve years old may have been considered by some adults as hasty, but with my father being a Baptist Preacher and me never having run afoul of the law, I think they cut me a little slack from time to time.

Many of my friends in Toto were on a first name basis with the law, not only the law but the judge as well. Some even knew the name of judge’s dog. One friend of mine tried to kidnap the judge’s dog and hold him for ransom. He’s still not out yet, and he’s older than me. Boy, was that judge mad about that dog.

It was never my intention to create hate and mistrust amongst any of the adult members of the community in Toto. It was thrust upon my shoulders. A duty I could not ignore. This thing that grew to be known as the Pop Bottle Wars would have been settled in an afternoon had I tactical nuclear weapons. Looking back I’m kinda glad I didn’t, else Toto today would be known as the Hillbilly Chernobyl of Starke County.

The world will little note or long remember how close to the brink we came that hot August Day 1956, when Evil was confronted in Downtown Toto, Evil blinked, and the good guys won.

Years later when President Kennedy had to deal with a somewhat similar issue with Cuba, the missiles and such form Russia, well that didn’t worry me too much. I’d seen Evil blink before.

In 1956 empty pop bottles were worth 2 cents each. Now it didn’t take a rocket scientist then, or now, to figure out if ya had a big bunch of um ya got some real money to deal with. There was a substantial lack of Federal Funding for any low income work programs for poor white boys at that time, and I’m sure even less for poor black boys, but they didn’t live in Toto so we didn’t know um.

Pop Bottles were the income stream of my childhood. Pop bottles bought ya stuff, pop, bb’s, candy, moon pies, more pop, comic books, more candy, took ya to the show, and bought ya popcorn inside. The skills required for the gathering of pop bottles were handed down from older brother to younger brother.

Not having an older brother, I had to learn the hard way, on the roads leading into and out of Toto. Life was not easy gathering the pop bottles along what is now referred as Toto and Range Roads. Having no personal supervision or even a hint of instructional technique, I still remember approaching my first abandoned pop bottle with a great deal of trepidation. In bright sunshine, I reached down and touched the warm glass of an 8 oz Pepsi Bottle. (yes 8 oz, they made little bottles then, and so did Coke and 7Up) It was my first earned income.

By the time I got home that day had well over 25 cents and already decided to organize an army of bottle collectors. It just so happened that the day before I collected my first empty pop bottle I had completed the reading a most fascinating book about General William T. Sherman and his famous march to the sea during the Civil War. His success had to do with organization and planning. I learned that from the book.

Within a week we were an army of 12, with 7 bb guns, 12 sling shots, 7 wagons and 4 bicycles, 14 dogs and 6 little brothers. We did not plan on it but someone pointed out we all had matching uniforms, overalls. We called ourselves the first company of the “TOTO VOLUNTEERS” . I assumed command of the Toto Volunteers on that 4th day of July, 1956 in a ceremony held under a large Elm Tree on the Northeast corner of the main intersection in Downtown Toto, right next to the Gleaner Hall. It was a spectacle to behold. The full army standing at attention when a 21 bb gun salute was fired in recognition of the importance of the day. I made a speech. We had a flag of material cut from a pillow case and red and blue crayons. It was a good flag. The little brothers took turns carrying the flag. The following day the army marched.

Our first day out we collected $1.20 worth of pop bottles. In one week we had enough money to allow all the Toto Volunteers to go to the show at the same time and half to get popcorn which was shared with the other half.

About three weeks or so after the big social outing to the theater, my excitement for what seemed an unlimited income source soon came crashing down when an old man by the name of Apache Clemons who lived west of Toto came to my dad and said the Toto Kids, with me in charge, were picking up all the pop bottles that he always got along the roads, and that those pop bottles were his only money to buy cigarettes and much of his food.

On a late Sunday Evening near the end of July, setting in a swing on the porch beside my father, he says “BobbyRay, ya picking up pop bottles?” I say “Yap” He says “very many” I say “Yep” He says “By yourself” I say “Nope” He says “Who else?” I talk about the Toto Volunteers, about the army. He tells me of the Apache Clemons visit and his wish to pick up all the pop bottles without us kids getting in his way, and of his need to augment his income with my revenue source. My dad says “BobbyRay, ya just think about what to do for a week and we’ll talk about your decision next Sunday.”

Well now with my father being a Baptist Preacher, he was more sympathetic to that kinda story line than myself, I may have been blinded by the money, but nevertheless my father was certainly more sympathetic than I toward Apache Clemons and his desire to continue to smoke Camels Cigarettes. (don’t know if ya ever smoked, or not, but if ya did, and ever smoked a Camel Cigarette you will remember it for life. I cough just thinking about one.)

I did think about that, almost all night. Somewhere in the darkness as Sunday Night dissolved into Monday Morning the enemy was clearly identified, it was Apache Clemons. The battle was joined.

By the dawns early light I had the plan. It was not yet 10 o’clock when the army was assembled. The plan was simple as I laid it out to the troops. “We have until Friday to sweep the sides of all the roads clean of all pop bottles. We will take um all” The army cheered. We had a mission, a cause, a reason to go to war.

We would not sell any pop bottles until Saturday and sell all at one time and split the money. Each day we would store our haul in the shed behind my house. From the center of Toto we would march north all the way to the Yellow River, but not cross. South to Hwy 10. East to Hwy 35. West to Hwy 39. The goal was to collect every single pop bottle within that defined area and as such deny the ole man who complained to my dad a single pop bottle during the whole week.

The army was divided into to two units, I sent one North toward the river, while I commanded the unit traversing South toward Hwy 10. Three wagons went North, 4 went South. The plan was for everybody to hunt pop bottles on one side and the other side on the way back to Toto. Half way to Hwy 10 the wagons were full, and only half of one side of the road. A command decision had to be made so I left one soldier and one pile of pop bottles on the side of the road to guard the hoard until our return. Thought about sending him back to Toto with a wagon load , but was afraid he would sell the pop bottles, keep the money, take his wagon and go home, and not come back to the army. (it was just thinking stuff like that, why I was the general)

By the time the whole army had returned for the day, all wagons had been filled and refilled more than once and we had the heavily traveled east / west roads yet to cover. With the bottles stored for the night, we agreed to start early the next morning. My unit moved out at 8:00 o’clock East toward Hwy 35. With 4 full wagons before 2 miles, I decided to return to Toto and unload. The West Unit was equally successful that day. By Wednesday of that week we had met all of our original objectives and had swept the roadsides clear of pop bottles. We had two more days and I was not done.

Taking a play right from the General Sherman Book I had just read, I knew the importance of forging not only in front you but also to the sides. On Thursday and Friday the Toto Volunteers attached the side roads leading off of roads Toto and Range. The bounty was enormous. We got’um all.

We sold those pop bottles that Saturday Morning at Lewis’s Grocery Store in Toto for a little over $26.00, I split up $24.00 12 ways. The extra two dollars and change, I gave to the little brothers, after all they had carried the flag on every march.

The day after we sold the pop bottles, bought the candy, bbs, pop, gun, just about everything, I once again sat on the swing with my dad late in the evening. He said “BobbyRay, did ya think about what we talked about last week?” I said “yep” He said “And?” I said “I quit picking up pop bottles last week” He said “You’re a good boy, BobbyRay.” And so I was in the eyes of my father.

It was more money than most of us had ever seen in our life time at that point. We were an army. We were proud. We were the Toto Volunteers. We still are.

Oh my! How time flies when you’re having fun. As always I’ve enjoyed your visit so very much and look forward to you return.

The shades of nighttime have engulfed the East Wing on this windy, cool, damp cloudy evening of this beautiful springtime day. It is quite in the East Wing with my all girls asleep (2dogs, 1cat, 1wife) 1mother went home for a while, but here’s hopping she’ll return soon.

Stay Safe in Baghdad

From the East Wing, remembering the Pop Bottle Wars
I wish you well,
BobbyRay