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The Flyin' Jenny

Author: Louise Tucker Jones
Issue: 2009 June

Growing up on a farm during the fifties, I never lacked for creative, outdoor play. There were barns and feed bins to explore, haylofts to jump out of, ponds for fishing, and acres of trees and pasture to roam.

But when a large tree near our house had to be cut down, Daddy got creative and built something our little farming community had never seen.

After cutting down the tree, he drilled a hole in the middle of the stump and placed a long, thick plank on top of that, also containing a hole in the middle that matched up with the one in the tree stump. He then hammered a tall, greased spike through the holes and deep into the middle of the stump. Each end of the long, wooden board supported short crossbars “to keep riders from falling off,” according to my dad.

But who knew what kind of ride this was? Some thought it was a simple, two-person merry-go-round. Others thought it was a new kind of teeter-totter. But Daddy... well, Daddy called it the Flyin’ Jenny. And when two people of similar weight got on opposite ends of the board and a quick runner was able to push that plank really fast and jump out of the way without getting hit, that Jenny would definitely fly.

My long ponytail would whip around my face as I leaned in toward the middle, my legs locked over the crossbar while holding on to the board with all my might. It was better than any ride at the County Fair and was the talk of our little community. It was definitely a novelty.

Many houses boasted a tire swing or a homemade rope swing with a slat across the bottom that notched into the rope on each side. The school playground offered a slide and a couple of seesaws along with some swings for kids to play on, even when school wasn’t in session. But nothing matched the Flyin’ Jenny.

Dozens of kids and grown-ups alike would drop by our house to have a ride on the Flyin’ Jenny and the more they rode it the more they liked it. On Sunday afternoons there might be a softball game taking place in the front yard, watermelons chilling in a tub of cool water in the back or homemade ice cream being churned to the side of the house, but always there were kids waiting their turn on the Flyin’ Jenny.

In fact, my childhood friends still claim their best memories while growing up were spent at my house, enjoying my mother’s chocolate gravy for breakfast – another story for another time – and riding the famous Flyin’ Jenny. I totally agree!