One Heck Of A Nanny Goat

Dear Boo and Bubble,

Since my last post to The Bridge Project, I just can't stop chuckling. It brought back such a humorous memory, a story that your great granddaddy Schaefer loved to tell with much zest since it was about his mother and he thought it might be skirting the boundaries of propriety. I can still see the twinkle in his eye as he waited for the reaction from his audience.

Before Mattie worked as the local office administrator for Congressman Robert T. Ashmore, she was his secretary while he served Greenville as county prosecutor. In that capacity, she helped prepare him for the trials he conducted in court, making sure that all of the legal documents required in a case were properly executed and filed in a timely fashion. He greatly depended upon her and she prided herself in the reliability of her work.

On this particular occasion, Mr. Ashmore found himself embroiled in a critical murder trial before a judge and jury that had tremendous political implications for him. He had set his sights on running to represent S.C.'s 4^th Congressional District in the upcoming election. A conviction of the accused defendant in the case would be a big feather in his professional cap. An acquittal might not bode well.

It was a complicated matter with many exhibits and witnesses and Mr. Ashmore decided he should have someone in the courtroom with him as a runner – someone who could go back and forth to his office to take messages to Mattie in the event he needed something. For the purpose, he selected a handyman named Stubby that did odd jobs around his house.....perhaps not the brightest option around, but loyal and eager to be involved.

The judge gaveled the courtroom to order and the trial began.

On the second afternoon, towards the crescendo of the prosecution's examination, Mr. Ashmore realized that he had failed to secure the appearance of a most important witness, a Mr. James Manigault. He frantically called Stubby up to the gallery railing that ran along behind the prosecutor's desk.

Leaning over into Stubby's ear, he whispered forcibly “I need for you to run as fast as you can to Miss Mattie's office and tell her that I must have a subpeona for James Manigault.”

“Yes, sir, Mr. Bob, I will.”

“A subpeona for James Manigault, got it?”

“Yes, sir. I do.” Stubby sensed the urgency of Mr. Ashmore's request. He was out of the courtroom in a flash and bounding his way up the three flights of stairs to the Prosecution Office in order to deliver the message to Mattie.

By the time he made it to the door, Stubby was completely out of breath. Mattie looked up from her typewriter, a little startled to see him there.

“What is it Stubby?”

“Mr. Bob says he needs you to get a penis for Jim's nanny goat. Yes, he does. Right away. A penis for Jim's nanny goat.”

The most amazing thing happened. Mattie, without so much as a “Huh?” or a “What?” or an “Excuse me?”, went straight back to her desk, inserted some paper into the typewriter and began pecking away.

When she was finished, she pulled the document out from the carriage with dramatic flair and held it out to Stubby.

“Here,” she said. “Here's the subpeona for James Manigault.” Using her legal wits and saving precious time, she had completely decoded his genuine discombobulation.

He raced back out of the door. Watching him leave, Mattie must have thought – That would have been one heck of a nanny goat!