Paint Me a Boy

By Tommie L. White

This book is a spin-off of the original
titled book called Missing You, in which
I wrote memoirs about in the late
eighties. You the reader, will find this
book enlightening, intriguing, refreshing,
sad, funny, and educational. So please, go
out and purchase a copy of my book. If
for nothing else, but to support a sailor
who has put his life on the line so that
freedom and democracy can continue to
exist as we have grown to love it.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Jan 9, 2013
• ISBN: 9781481701723

Tommie L. White

I was born in the outskirts of Arkansas; where my great-grandmother, grandmother, and mother raised me as a sharecropper. At the age of eighteen, I joined the United States Navy; to defend my country and travel the world! Now, I am proud to be a veteran!

Book preview

© 2013 by Tommie L. White. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 01/03/2013

ISBN: 978-1-4817-0173-0 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4817-0171-6 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4817-0172-3 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2012924162

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.’

CONTENTS

Introduction

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Chapter 51

Chapter 52

Chapter 53

Poetic Interlude

Paint Me a Boy

Oxygenated

Voices

Yo Boy

Ballin’ Man

This Life

Gleaming Lights

Tickling the Ivory

A Place to Call Home

Gravesite

I would like to give thanks to a total stranger who saved my life during 1983 to 1984. Without this person’s presence, I would not be here today to tell my story. It was apparent that this man had been sent to inform me that my journey on this earth was not yet due to end.

This white male who had short blonde hair and a cleanly shaven face; saved my life by throwing me a life preserver, as I struggled to rise to the top of the pool. I had swallowed a stomach full of chlorine water. I was visiting my girlfriend on the Eastside of Long Beach, California. My girlfriend Denise and I was swimming in the pool, but she returned to the apartment to answer a call, I continued to swim while drinking alcoholic beverages.

When I went underwater to swim, I caught a cramp, and before I could come up from the bottom of the pool, I panicked and began to struggle to reach the top.

So, I’d like to formally say to that man: thank you for my life!

INTRODUCTION

Thesis: This story is about the life of an African American boy named Tommie, who was raised on a farm in the outskirts of Arkansas, and after graduating high school; he joined the United States Navy to serve his country, and make a better life for himself.

As a child, Tommie lived in a farmhouse with a host of uncles, aunts, and cousins; under the guidance of his teenage mother Lena, and his grandmother Alene. On their farm; Tommie’s family raised cows, horses, goats, hogs, and chickens. They also grew vegetables, and supported the family by chopping and picking cotton. Tommie was dedicated and willing to work in order to help share the duties and responsibilities of the household.

Tommie joined the military, and after six years; he received an honorable discharge. This was the highest honor a person could receive after serving in the military. He also worked in the law enforcement field and later worked as an aide; assisting handicapped and disabled children and adults. He also worked for the US Postal Service, sorting and coding mail. He got married at a young age, and became the biological father of three beautiful daughters, and helped to raise a step-daughter.

He also pursued poetic endeavors, including writing, reciting, and publishing poems and recording and producing music and songs for himself as well as other artists and groups. As a solo artist, Tommie recorded numerous songs that were promoted to television and radio stations in the greater Los Angeles, California, area; Memphis, Tennessee; and Arkansas. His latest CD is titled The Many Facet’s of Tee Love. Along with writing this book, he plans to record new music in the future, by thumbing through some of his old material to find new ideas for new songs. He have previously written poetry memoirs and poems for poetry companies and magazines; including Poetry.com and Noble House Poetry, based in London, Paris, and New York. Some of his writings can be found in poetry anthologies, libraries, schools, and bookstores throughout the world. He have received Poetry.com’s prestigious honor as Editor’s Choice Recipient Award for September 2003, twice in October 2003, July 2005, August 2005, twice in October 2005, March 2006, September 2007, and in April 2008. He was honored as Poet of the Year! in 2007. He has also received a certificate of appreciation from the president and CEO of UNCF in recognition of a generous gift to the Negro College Fund 2008 Drive.

In reading this book, you will get to know Tommie; and will understand his personality through his travels, work ethics, experiences, and surrounding environments. So enjoy; Paint Me A Boy by Tommie Lee White.

CHAPTER 1

On the day of August 1, 1964, on the outskirts of Earle, Arkansas, a child was born with future limbs of a giant and lightly bronzed skin. My name is Tommie Lee White.

My mother told me that I was born with a head of long, wavy hair and eyes as brown as the buttons on a stuffed teddy bear. With the assistance of a midwife, I was brought into this world that we all know and love.

On the day of my birth, I became the emperor of my family throne.

I never knew my father, although I imagine seeing him fading away in the darkness, never to be heard from or seen again. My mother told me that he passed away when I was young.

I imagine myself wrapped in cloth diapers held together by metal pins with plastic heads as I lay in the bed next to the window watching my father as he disappeared. If only I could talk or speak, words of sadness I would have uttered! Father, Father, don’t go—Papa, Papa, don’t leave—as tears streamed down my face. I often thought that someday I would find my father, but as time passed, I came to realize that he must be deceased and would never come back. Someday I would have to step up to the plate to try and fill the shoes that my father was supposed to wear.

When I turned three years old, my mother gave birth to my sister. She was a pretty dark-skinned baby with big, wondrous eyes. I vaguely remember her father being around and assisting my mother with providing food and clothing for us. He was a dark-skinned man who stood approximately five feet, nine inches tall. His family lived across the street from where we lived.

After my mother dated this man for a while, they separated. Neither one of them felt that they were old enough to sustain a long-lasting relationship.

My mother was the oldest child, and she felt that she needed to be on her own. She went on to meet an older man whom she fell in love with, and they planned to marry. This gentleman was a hard-working man who loved to drink whiskey. Although he drank, he was never belligerent or disrespectful. He was a tractor driver who plowed the wheat and bean fields. His name was Frank Morgan.

A few months after they met, my mother became pregnant, and this time it was another boy. Now I had a brother!

Mr. Morgan and my mother got married and moved in together. He moved us into a house not far from where we were living. I can remember my uncles coming over and sitting down to watch Mr. Morgan fix cars and work on his tractor.

At the age of only four years old, I would go to my grandmother’s house and help out by gathering branches for the old iron stove. I learned to cook by watching my grandmother and aunts as they prepped and prepared the food. I knew that someday I would have to care for my own family.

On Saturdays and Sundays, I would go to my great-grandmother Willie Mae’s house to help her with the farm, by feeding the chickens and gathering eggs. I watched my great-uncles as they fed the cattle and prepped some of them for food supply. My great-grandmother raised cows, horses, goats, pigs, ducks, and chickens. I vividly remember hauling the leftover food out to the troths and dumping it into the ditch-like trenches. I learned to use a wheel cart to haul the hay from the barn, and then I would try to bail the hay by using a pitchfork to toss it into the stables and corral. It was fun being chased by the horses but was painful being pecked by the roosters as I gathered eggs from the coops. As of today, a scar remains on my left hand from quickly jerking my hand from the coop after being pecked by the chickens.

As a child, I loved the country life! The fishing was great, and the air smelled quiet fresh. Although it was dangerous setting the traps to catch wildlife for food purposes, I enjoyed watching my uncles as they did it. I also remember seeing my uncle Junior corralling a hog into a corner of the yard, in order to shoot it with a 12 gauge shotgun; so its meat could be slaughtered for processing and storage. Depending on the size of the hogs; sometimes they were hit in the head with sledgehammers. The hogs would run around wildly in circles and then fall to the ground, kicking and grunting until they died.

After the hogs stopped kicking, they were hauled between two large trees. The animal would then be reeled up by a pulley that was rigged to haul it up to a wire that was stretched between the two trees. The hog’s legs were then tied to the wire with other pieces of wire. Once locked in place, the hog would be gutted and separated into proportions of meats. Some of the meats were preserved with salt and vinegar, in order to cut the potency; and other portions of the meat was wrapped and sold. A