We’re going to take a little time this Memorial weekend for remembering Junior Champion. We guess that we should have known that he passed away about a year ago, but it had been awhile since we had been out there to see him. We know he had a long and interesting life, and a lot of people around here knew him.
The Eatonton paper has a link about him:
Back Story
Junior was actually an important part of our story. There was a dark moment, when we were about to open up the guest house that we needed the thriftiest and most beautiful lumber possible. We heard about this place at some point and bought a vanload of 1X4, and that became the trim to the Cottage and both of the Lofts.
We documented this at the time in a blog post:
After that, we essentially used this stuff everywhere we needed some thrifty lumber. We began to call it “Junior Wood” to the effect that it came from him.
Junior Wood is all over our place. We used it for the kitchen garden, when we finished it a couple of months later, and we have it holding up the roof of one of the chicken coops.
We were in there one time looking for something else, and he said “Hey I have a pile of 16X4 poplar that I need to get rid of, do you want a piece? He gave us some low price, and we accepted it. That piece became the beautiful fireplace mantel that seems so much part of the main house living room that we can’t really remember a time without it.
Shopping at Junior’s
Shopping at Junior’s was like that. You went in there looking for one thing, and you ended up getting more than you needed. Or, he ended up selling you something you didn’t need because he knew you needed it, even if you didn’t.
You’d go into the living room/office of the little house there on the corner, and tell him what you needed. If the crew, which was mainly South Americans, needed to cut some fresh for you, they’d often throw an extra piece or two in the van for you.
The office itself was covered with old calendars, or photos of one kind or another. There was an unmanicured abundance of other stuff, but all we can remember is the ceiling, which was covered with the same rough cut lumber. If we ever need to do a ceiling, we’re tempted to use the same thing.
At the end he would pull out an old paper receipt book and hand write a receipt for you. The office girl had to take care of any credit card transactions, because that was not in his scope. He wasn’t big on electronics.
Junior’s Story
According to the obituary, he was born up in Jasper. He he also told the story that his family farm was one of those places that was flooded when the TVA constructed Lake Blue Ridge or one of the other lakes up there someplace. 1944 was a little too early. Maybe 1951 was more part of his life experience. He was apparently the main guy in Shady Dale, being the Mayor, founder of the Fire Department and Water Works, and that guy that everybody knew.
Every time we went in there, we heard how much he missed Mrs. Junior, whose name was Margaret Eloise. We never met her, but we felt a bit of a connection because of the profuse abundance of flowers that are there. More than once we asked Junior if we could pick a few, and he always let us. He never was one much for the care of them, and they were a bit overgrown by the time we ever saw them.
What we knew for sure was that she was patient. She had a noisy, dusty, sawmill in her backyard for a long time, and made the best of it.
Remembering Junior Champion
For us, Junior was more of an idea than a person. He was the epitome of the small town “character.” We knew enough not to be in a hurry anytime we went in there. To us, he was warm, friendly, offered a suggestion or two, and a story if he had one.
Plus Mrs. Junior gave us a few flowers.
What we got was a customer experience, of the kind you can’t get at the Famous Brand Name store up the street. When we talk about Human Scale Living, Junior was exactly what we mean. A place that is one-off, run by a human, and the mere “shopping” there led you to even more stories.
His daughter was going to try running the place, we think. We’re in a different phase of the project now, and we don’t get out there very often, obviously. We’d like to stop by there again at some point. Life is short.
