Memories Of The Past Seventy Eight Years
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When we stand before a mirror, we can get a pretty good image of what we actually look like. Although I like to think that perhaps I might look a little better than that, I don't. But it is more difficult to reflect on your life for multiple reasons. One is we have forgotten innumerable events and the events we do remember are distorted. The human mind tries to forget the unhappy details while remembering the pleasantries. And it succeeds in the minor things. There are strong unpleasant events which time and the mind do not erase.
My faintest memories begin in 1932 or 1933. Times were very difficult in our area. I recall only a very few minor details from that point. I can remember my older siblings sitting me on a large burlap bag (we referred to them as tow sacks) and pulling me over the yard on that. It was alright until they dragged me over some sizable pebbles or small rocks. There were seven of us children at that time from my age to about 19 years. That is nine people in a 4 room, no bath, house. One fireplace in the living room and a wood burning stove (range) in the kitchen was the only sources of heat. We wore "layered" clothing during cold weather although that is not how we referred to it. We called it bundling up. The food we ate was approximately 95% home raised. We had no choice but to buy flour, salt, sugar, baking soda, etc. I remember one winter, my Dad made me a pair of shoes from a discarded inner tube. I remember absolutely no sadness on my part for any of those circumstances. I'm sure my parents were sad that there was not enough money to get all new shoes for the winter, but since I didn't go to school, I was chosen. But I can remember the childish delight that I got from those soft comfortable shoes.
Years pass swiftly. I started to school in the autumn of 1936. By that time, the oldest sibling, a sister was married and living away. The next, a brother was working at a textile mill some twenty five miles away and was forced to board with another family and only came home on week-ends. Times were improving financially but things were happening that disturbed me. It bothered me that my older brother and sister were no longer staying at home and my father also had to be gone during the week doing his work as a carpenter, brick mason. And during my first year in school, my grandfather killed himself. His wife had died long before I was born and he married another ugly and hateful woman, who made life a torment for him, then she left. His health was failing and I now suppose he felt there was nothing more worth living for. But I loved him and as I look back, I think I may have been the only person he had any love for. In 1938, my mother gave birth to a new baby sister.
World War two was declared in 1941 when I was eleven and I watched as my three oldest brothers left to enter the military. One of them came back in 1942 having almost died with a bleeding duodenal ulcer. He lived about one month and developed pneumonia and pleurisy and died about a week later. When the war was finally over, my oldest brother returned home and he and his family moved to Atlanta. My next sister married and moved out, although she remained in the general area. My brother just older than I was, joined the Navy, leaving at home only my parents, my baby sister and me. My father and I built a new home behind our old home, this one with a bath, four bedrooms, kitchen, living/dining room. We had just moved into it in the winter of 1949, when Dad became sick, couldn't seem to improve, so after the new year, we took him to the hospital, he was diagnosed with leukemia and never was released from the hospital until April 21 when he died, on his 60th birth day.
Although my life had not been any more tragic than perhaps almost any family, I was devastated at the death of my father. It took me a long time to actually be able to admit that he would not be coming back home. It seemed as if life had suddenly taken a nose dive from the happiness I had enjoyed as I grew up, and everything was falling apart. Then, to put the lid on the jar, as we entered the next new year, Uncle Sam sent me his greeting, welcoming me into my part of the Korean war. I didn't mind going personally, but there was no one at home now, once I was gone, except my mother and 12 year old sister. Mother's income was extremely meager from insurance and a very small pension from the labor union to which my father had belonged. My brother, just older than I, was still in the military service so the two of us did what we could to send home some supplementary funds. But military pay then, could not be compared to now. My starting pay was $62.50 per month.
When I returned home from my army tour, Mother wanted to sell the old farm and the house we had built on it and move into town nearby. So, we sold the place and bought a little new house, and we moved to town where I worked and where my baby sister married a little later, as did I. My sister and her husband stayed with my mother until they built a bigger home of their own an moved her in with them. She lived to age 72, and had enjoyed several years of comfortable living, for which I will forever be thankful.
Since then, all of my older siblings have also died and now there is only my baby sister and I, of the large family we had so full of love for so many years. Her husband has now passed away also, but she has three outstanding young men for sons who live near and care for her well. And I have my wife with whom I have lived for over 53 years and could not be happier with any other person. We have 3 wonderful daughters, 6 grandchildren and 3 great grandchildren. I warned her on our fiftieth anniversary that she had been the boss for the first fifty and I would be for the next fifty. But so far she has not accepted that agreement. Of all men, I have been most wonderfully blessed.
Webgazine Columnist.
Article submitted Saturday, April 04, 2009 & read 11 times.
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