Page 51 - Firehouse Pond

Yes, I came from a poor family. My friends would play and go to movies
while I was always working or helping somebody out, but I still feel that I
had a good enough childhood. I can't say I regret anything. It is senseless to

regret. I had time to play. I'm good with the slingshot. I jumped rope and
played jacks and hopscotch. It wasn't all work and no play.

I would give all my money to Mom to buy beans and cigarettes. Dad was an

alcoholic. He would use all the money he earned on booze.

I had one brother, Denny, and one sister, Evie. We were always running from

the bill collectors. We lived in vacant houses out in farmers' fields
sometimes. The worst place I ever lived was out in the county, down an old
sand road, outside of Charleston. Sister Evie remembers the place very well

also. The house had been used to store grain, mostly corn. The rent was free.
We had to scoop the grain out and patch the walls where the mice had chewed
through, but it was home.

There was no electricity and an outside toilet. I can't remember how old I
was before we had electricity. We had an inside pump for water so we could
pump water into our kitchen. We ate field corn and plums that year.

We got to be there free in the farmer's old place in the field because we
picked up corn off the ground for him. My dad did other odds and ends there
as well. Yes, we lived in some ungodly places.

Dad was a good man and a good father when he wasn't drinking. He was a
jack-of-all-trades, and he was hard working. He beat me when he got drunk,

much more than he beat anyone else, and he'd call me an SOB. I'd get upset
about that.

Dad always wanted to whip me until I cried. I was either a winner or a

damned fool because I wouldn't cry. He didn't know when to quit. One time
he threatened to kill me with a hot poker.