Don't Get Sidetracked

By Matthew Creighton

Marine, Guardian, Trooper, Convict, Messenger.

Matthew Creighton, the eldest of seven children, was born and raised in rural Alabama. His two brothers died as infants, but Matthew decided, as a little boy, that he wanted to play pro football. He saw how his first cousin had benefited from going pro, and he wanted to do the same thing to make life better for his parents.

Unfortunately, when he was only 16, his mother died from diabetes. A little over a year after he graduated from high school, tragedy struck once again, and he and his sisters buried their father on Matthew's 19th birthday. At the age of 19, he became the legal guardian of his four young sisters.

Pushed into parenthood at such an early age, Matthew needed a better job. He became a very successful Alabama State Trooper, reaching the rank of Lieutenant. Unfortunately, he got sidetracked, and lost his 18-year Trooper career, and was in and out of prison three times.

In July of 2012 Matthew spoke to a group of young people, knowing it was time to get his “don’t get sidetracked” message out there. The Don't Get Sidetracked book is a timely message from Matthew for the young and old alike--it inspires them to stay on track in their quest to reach their highest potential.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Matthew Creighton
• Release date: Oct 27, 2012
• ISBN: 9781301519767

Book preview

DON’T GET SIDETRACKED

By Matthew Creighton

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2012 Matthew Creighton

Smashwords Edition, License Notes:

This ebook is licensed for personal use only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away. To share this book with another party, an additional copy must be purchased for each recipient.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Dedication

Introduction

The Marine

The Guardian

The Trooper

The Convict

The Messenger

Contact Information

DEDICATION

I dedicate this book in memory of my parents: Della Wease Creighton (who we called Mul) for being a strict mother; otherwise, I would probably still be sidetracked; and, Milton Bill Creighton for giving me the confidence to overcome any hurdles;

to my late grandmothers Dennie Nell Roper and Lucinda Creighton;

to my late grandfather Daddy Boyd Creighton, and to Paw Paw West Roper;

to my wonderful mother-in-law Minnie Hunt, and my late father-in-law Earl Hunt;

to the greatest uncle in the world, the late Preston Booly Creighton. I loved my Uncle Booly so much;

to my four sisters Danita, Cindy, Dennie, and Mildred for trusting me with their life, after the deaths of our parents;

to my aunt and uncle, Thelma and Johnny Henry, who did everything they could, to save my hide when I got sidetracked;

and last, but not least, I dedicate this book to my beautiful wife Allison, who’s hung in there with me for over 28 years of marriage; to our three beautiful children, Milton Bud, Andrea Lil Momma, and Maria Lil Lady for not losing their belief in their parents during the tough times. I especially thank our daughters for giving me three beautiful granddaughters: Amauria (Ami D), Mashiah (Shi Shi), and Ambrin D; and, my grandson, Dayson.

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Introduction

Come on Cowboy, run the ball with your head up! is what the coach would say as I ran the football down the field. As a little boy on the field, I was so afraid of getting hit in the eyes that I kept my face toward the ground. The coach nicknamed me Cowboy, because I wore cowboy boots to football practice. Some of my teammates made fun of me for that same reason.

Since Mul and Daddy couldn't afford to spend money on a pair of football cleats, I played in the same footwear that I had to wear to school every day. Looking back, I realize there was a lot that my parents couldn’t afford; but their love for their children, and our love for them helped me to overlook that.

Although I was only six years old, and the team that I played for was just a Pee Wee football team, the coach still acted like we were 25 year-olds playing in the NFL. Whenever my teammates or I made a mistake during practice, the coach would chew us up one side, and down the other.

I played running back on the third string, and I wore number 90 on my jersey. Most of us with the slightest bit of football knowledge know that players who wore the high numbers were usually lineman or linebackers. As small as I was all the way through school, I definitely was not lineman or linebacker material. I could only figure that the reason I had such a high jersey number was because I was on the third string. Our first and second string running backs wore number 21 and number 22.

Yeah, I might have had a high jersey number, but I also had a dream of playing professional football, and becoming seriously rich before my 21st birthday. I knew, even as a six year-old, that when I became rich Daddy could quit working.

It was very important for me to be in a position to make life better for my parents and my sisters, and this drove me. I didn’t think any price was too high to pay for them. I was willing to do my absolute best on and off of the football field; I was little, but I was determined! My coach probably could see just how strong the determination in me was.

Since I didn’t have a ride, every day after football practice, the coach would take me home to our tidy little four-room house—Mul kept it spotless. Though it’s renovated now, I still have clear pictures in my mind of the old house. You’d walk through the front door directly into the small living room, and straight on through into the kitchen. Just to the right of the kitchen was the small room that my sisters and I shared.

I slept on the top bunk, and my four sisters shared the bottom bunk. However, early on the five of us became experts at sliding underneath the bottom bunk. When we’d get in trouble and Mul came after us with her switch, we would run to our room and dive under the bed. The lucky one that managed to get closest to the wall was out of reach of Mul’s switch.

The wood heater that we used to heat our lil’ house sat in the middle of the floor in our room. The heat could easily travel to Mul and Daddy’s room which was connected to ours. We would all sometimes gather around the heater and talk on the cold evenings after Daddy came in from work. He’d have long days, but he still made time for us. I can still remember how on those evenings, he would smell like wood chips and oil and diesel and the outdoors.

Since we did not have indoor plumbing in our lil’ house, one of my duties was to haul water from the spring. I’ll be willing to bet that Mul sometimes watched me from the kitchen window as I’d cross the field to the spring down by the big oak tree. I was the oldest, so most evenings when I got home, I had to feed the hogs and chickens, and chop firewood. Sure it was freezing cold outside a lot of the time, the hogs were smelly, the chickens were all over the place, and all too often the ax was dull. Plain and simple, it was hard work, but both of my parents worked hard, and I wanted them to know that they could always count on me to do my fair share—to do

Reviews for Don't Get Sidetracked

[dukefast · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

This was an instructive and constructive read. It is always admirable to read about someone that goes through worldly woes and challenges, but makes the decision not let it extinguish his or her soul.

Thank You, Mr. Creighton. I feel that you have helped me by sharing your experience.