Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Cafe by Fannie Flagg Page B
Authors: Fannie Flagg
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still in the cafe, wagging her finger up to the ceiling. “Don’t you do dis, Lord … don’t you do dis to Miz Idgie and Miz Ruth … don’t you do dis thang! You hear me, God? Don’t do it!”
Idgie was running right behind Big George and they were both yelling at the house, three blocks away, “Doctor Hadley! Doctor Hadley!”
The doctor’s wife, Margaret, heard them first and came out on the front porch. She spotted them just as they came around the corner, and she shouted for her husband, “Get out here quick! It’s Idgie and she’s got Buddy Jr.!”
Dr. Hadley jumped up from the table and met them on the sidewalk, with his napkin still in his hand. When he saw the blood spurting from the boy’s arm, he threw the napkin down and said, “Get in the car. We’ve got to get him to Birmingham. He’s gonna need transfusions.”
As he was running to the old Dodge, he told his wife to call the hospital and tell them they were coming. She ran inside to call, and Big George, who was by this time completely covered with blood, got in the backseat and held the boy in his arms. Idgie sat in the front seat and talked to him all the way there, telling him stories to keep him calm, although her own legs were shaking.
When they arrived at the Emergency entrance, the nurse and the attendant were waiting for them at the door.
As they started in, the nurse said to Idgie, “I’m sorry, butyou’ll have to have your man wait outside, this is a white hospital.”
The boy, who hadn’t said a word, kept watching Big George as they took him down the hall, and until they turned the corridor, out of sight …
Still covered with blood, Big George sat outside on the brick wall and put his head in his hands and waited.
Two pimply-faced boys walked by, and one snarled over at Big George.
“Look, there’s another nigger that’s got hisself all cut up in a knife fight.” The other called out, “Hey! You better get yourself over to the nigger hospital, boy.”
His friend with the missing front tooth and the crossed eye spit, hitched up his pants, and swaggered on down the street.
JUNE 24, 1936
Tragedy Strikes in Front of Cafe
I am sorry to report that Idgie’s and Ruth’s little boy lost his arm last week while playing on the tracks in front of the cafe. He was running alongside of the train when he slipped and fell on the tracks. The train was traveling about forty miles an hour, Conductor Barney Cross said.
He is still over at the hospital in Birmingham, and although he lost a lot of blood, he is fine and will be home soon.
That makes a foot, an arm, and an index finger we have lost right here in Whistle Stop this year. And also, the colored man that was killed, which just says one thing to us, and that is that we need to be more careful in the future. We are tired of our loved ones losing limbs and other things.
And I, for one, am tired of writing about it.
… Dot Weems …
FEBRUARY 23, 1986
Mrs. Threadgoode was enjoying the Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup that Evelyn had brought and reflecting back to what seemed to be her favorite period, the time when all the trains were running past her house.
But something she had said the week before interested Evelyn, and her curiosity got the best of her.
“Mrs. Threadgoode, did you say that Idgie and Ruth had a little boy?”
“Oh yes, Stump, and you never saw a more manly little fella. Even when he lost his arm.”
“Good Lord, what happened?”
“He fell off one of the trains and had his arm cut off, right above the elbow. His real name was Buddy Threadgoode, Jr., but they called him Stump ’cause all he had left was a little stump of an arm. Cleo and I went to see him in the hospital, and he was just as brave, didn’t cry, didn’t feel sorry for himself. But then Idgie raised him that way, to be tough and take hard knocks.
“She went over to see her friend who owned the tombstoneplace and had him make up a baby tombstone that had carved on
Idgie was running right behind Big George and they were both yelling at the house, three blocks away, “Doctor Hadley! Doctor Hadley!”
The doctor’s wife, Margaret, heard them first and came out on the front porch. She spotted them just as they came around the corner, and she shouted for her husband, “Get out here quick! It’s Idgie and she’s got Buddy Jr.!”
Dr. Hadley jumped up from the table and met them on the sidewalk, with his napkin still in his hand. When he saw the blood spurting from the boy’s arm, he threw the napkin down and said, “Get in the car. We’ve got to get him to Birmingham. He’s gonna need transfusions.”
As he was running to the old Dodge, he told his wife to call the hospital and tell them they were coming. She ran inside to call, and Big George, who was by this time completely covered with blood, got in the backseat and held the boy in his arms. Idgie sat in the front seat and talked to him all the way there, telling him stories to keep him calm, although her own legs were shaking.
When they arrived at the Emergency entrance, the nurse and the attendant were waiting for them at the door.
As they started in, the nurse said to Idgie, “I’m sorry, butyou’ll have to have your man wait outside, this is a white hospital.”
The boy, who hadn’t said a word, kept watching Big George as they took him down the hall, and until they turned the corridor, out of sight …
Still covered with blood, Big George sat outside on the brick wall and put his head in his hands and waited.
Two pimply-faced boys walked by, and one snarled over at Big George.
“Look, there’s another nigger that’s got hisself all cut up in a knife fight.” The other called out, “Hey! You better get yourself over to the nigger hospital, boy.”
His friend with the missing front tooth and the crossed eye spit, hitched up his pants, and swaggered on down the street.
JUNE 24, 1936
Tragedy Strikes in Front of Cafe
I am sorry to report that Idgie’s and Ruth’s little boy lost his arm last week while playing on the tracks in front of the cafe. He was running alongside of the train when he slipped and fell on the tracks. The train was traveling about forty miles an hour, Conductor Barney Cross said.
He is still over at the hospital in Birmingham, and although he lost a lot of blood, he is fine and will be home soon.
That makes a foot, an arm, and an index finger we have lost right here in Whistle Stop this year. And also, the colored man that was killed, which just says one thing to us, and that is that we need to be more careful in the future. We are tired of our loved ones losing limbs and other things.
And I, for one, am tired of writing about it.
… Dot Weems …
FEBRUARY 23, 1986
Mrs. Threadgoode was enjoying the Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup that Evelyn had brought and reflecting back to what seemed to be her favorite period, the time when all the trains were running past her house.
But something she had said the week before interested Evelyn, and her curiosity got the best of her.
“Mrs. Threadgoode, did you say that Idgie and Ruth had a little boy?”
“Oh yes, Stump, and you never saw a more manly little fella. Even when he lost his arm.”
“Good Lord, what happened?”
“He fell off one of the trains and had his arm cut off, right above the elbow. His real name was Buddy Threadgoode, Jr., but they called him Stump ’cause all he had left was a little stump of an arm. Cleo and I went to see him in the hospital, and he was just as brave, didn’t cry, didn’t feel sorry for himself. But then Idgie raised him that way, to be tough and take hard knocks.
“She went over to see her friend who owned the tombstoneplace and had him make up a baby tombstone that had carved on
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