Page 22 - A Soldiers Exposition

I do not recall a single Sunday that I regretted going to church, hearing the sermon, eating dinner as a
family, or listening to my grandfather make sense of what the preacher had taught us that day. Although
not schooled, my grandfather was the best teacher I ever had. From A (ants) to Z (zebras), he could tell
a story that explained, educated, and left me wanting to know more. Thanks for the education grandpa.

Although I cannot claim to have been or to be a religious person, I do recall going to church, being
baptized and following the rules set down by my grandparents. We were not allowed to dance, listen to
music other than “church” songs, play cards, or associate with non-church going people - except the
hobos.

I remember my mother as a mostly sad person. I remember her as a hard-working, loving person that
was treated badly. Much of my childhood is locked away in some recess of my brain. I pray those events
never see the light of day. I do not wish to recall most of my childhood.

My mother was small and large. She was physically tiny, barely five feet tall and never weighing more
than ninety-five pounds and that was when, as a soldier, I picked her up and jumped into my sister’s
swimming pool with her in my arms. My mother never learned to swim. I was in big trouble when she got
out of the water. She got out of the cold water of the pool and I immediately realized that I had jumped
right into hot water with her. It was fun and I will always remember that day.

I recall that mom was always trying to please my father. She failed no matter how successful. He was
never pleased. My mother never went past the third grade. She worked in the cotton fields, a shoe
factory, and a commercial laundry. But, for now, I want you to recall that we lived in a God-fearing,
segregated community.

My mother smoked heavily and drank. She was not a “drunk”, but she did drink every night. I will tell you
more about my remarkable mother a bit later.

My father is a nearly forgotten person. I say nearly forgotten because I recall very little about him. He
was a very heavy smoker and a heavy drinker. To his credit, I will tell you that he was a hard-working
man. He worked in the cotton fields and stacked staves in the local stave mill. He served in the Army
during WWII and was sent to Japan after the U.S. dropped the atomic bombs. I am told that before going
into the Army and experiencing the horror of the aftermath of the bombings he was a nice hard-working
man. My mother told me he was changed by the Army.

Later in life, I entered the Army, and I too was changed by the Army. I will share more on this later.

My sister, what can I say other than she might be one of the smartest people I ever knew as a little boy.
Why? She saw an opportunity and skipped town. She acted and got the heck out of “small-town
America.” My sister worked in a drug store (not like a Rite Aid) the store; located in Cairo, Illinois; just
sixteen miles from Charleston, had a small “restaurant” that served hamburgers, hot dogs and mainly ice
cream and sodas. In fact, it was called a soda fountain. One day when my sister was barely sixteen, a
group of soldiers came through Cairo on their way home in another state. The soldiers came into the
soda fountain, ate and had a good time. There was this one soldier. He was handsome, full of life and
had an eye for my sis. It was only a matter of days before he returned to pick her up and away, they
went. A few short weeks later she was able to come back for my brother.

My brother remains unknown to my childhood memories. For whatever reason, I do not remember
anything about my brother until later in life. I promise to tell you all about this very patriotic person a little
later in the book. His story is worth the wait.