My Life's Story and Hospital Journey

By Ronald Thompson

This is the true fascinating story of Ronald Thompson, a hardworking, honest man who battled many foes in his life, and not only on the battlefields of Korea. He met his many challenges with remarkable courage and persistence, never losing sight of his goals nor his deep faith. Rons strength of character helped him survive and prevail, but there was one enemy he could not conquer, one that changed his life completely and forever. It is an inspiring record of a life in which Ron has still found purpose; it is truly a tribute to the human spirit.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Dec 26, 2013
• ISBN: 9781493125463

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My Life's Story and Hospital Journey

Ronald Thompson

Copyright © 2013, 2014 by Ronald Thompson.

ISBN: Softcover 978-1-4931-2545-6

Ebook 978-1-4931-2546-3

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

Rev. date: 02/06/2014

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CONTENTS

Meet Your Grandfather!

My Elementary School Days!

My Junior High School Years

My High School Years!

My Hospital Journey Continues:

MEET YOUR GRANDFATHER!

Dear Julian, Elijah, Josiah, Chase,

I am writing you my life’s story so that you will get to know something about your grandfather. It’s very difficult for youngsters like yourselves to get a feel for me when I can only talk to you using a talking device. When you read my life’s story you will get a feel for your grandfather by reading his life story. Most importantly you could learn from his mistakes and capitalize off his goodness. You will be able to compare your school years, ages and your life against your grandfather’s life. You’ll be able to determine if you’re on the right path or the wrong path. Also, you will be able to see if you need to make some adjustments with your life before it’s too late.

I am going to start my life story by going back as far as I know and can remember. I was born in Thomasville, Ga. 10-11-49. My mother gave birth to me at age fifth teen. Her mother was killed a year or two later. My mother and her father didn’t get along much after my mother’s mom was killed. So, my mom went to Philadelphia to live with our uncle and aunt. I was around two years old at that time. We lived in a row home on the third floor apartment with my uncle, aunt and their seven year old son. I remember waking up one night smelling smoke. I ran to my uncle’s bedroom and woke him up. The next thing I remembered was being on the balcony and I had to jump two stories down while the firemen held the net. I was about four years old at that time. My mom got burned and she was hospitalized. My aunt and uncle were fine but my cousin (their son) didn’t make it. The next thing I remembered I was living with my aunt and uncle in the same type of building on the third floor apartment. My mom was living with her girlfriend two blocks away. My mom would always visit me and leave money with my aunt. My aunt and uncle treated me like I was their son. I love them very much and they loved me just as much. I thought they were strict but then again every five year old thinks their guardians are strict. The only thing I didn’t like about my uncle was that he would give me beatings with an ironing cord when I deserved a spanking, which wasn’t often. The beatings would only last for a few seconds but it seemed like a lifetime. About an hour after the beating he would give me something good (dessert) to eat. I was glad that my uncle always showed me his kind and gentle side after giving me a whipping. It made me feel disappointed with myself for making him have to give me a whipping that I deserve. The only thing I didn’t like about my aunt is when she would kiss me around her friends. That used to make me feel so embarrassed. I was one of those handsome five year olds that didn’t like girls, hugs or kisses. There was a five year old girl that lived on the second floor that I used to look forward to playing with every day until I started kindergarten. I guess, I can say, she was my childhood sweetheart. I didn’t realize that until my teenager years. Unfortunately, I never saw her again after turning seven. I wish I could have seen her when she was an adult. I believe she would have been a fine dish.

MY ELEMENTARY SCHOOL DAYS!

I was four and a half when I started kindergarten. Usually kids start kindergarten at age five. I don’t remember much about kindergarten or my first-grade but I will never forget my second-grade teacher. I thought she was the nicest person in the world. She had the kind of smile that made you smile back at her. She was just a wonderful person to be around. I will never forget my third-grade because the teacher gave me an E on my report card. I have no idea of what I could’ve done to deserve an E. I was the quiet type that did his work. When I first saw that red E on my report card, the first thing that came to my mind was my uncle’s ironing cord. After school was let out I decided to run away. The only place I knew where to go was to my best friend’s neighborhood because everybody there knew me as John Ralston’s friend. By the way, John Ralston was a white boy and a classmate who lived 4 blocks from my house. Everyone in John’s neighborhood treated me very good, especially his family. I walked John home after school had let out. John and I had played baseball that day with his friends until it got too dark to see. I walked John home and when we got there his mother offered me a big red apple. I said to myself: this pple should last me a year if I eat a little bit each day. (Remember, I was only seven years old. After I left John’s house I started walking towards home. Then I started thinking about my uncle’s ironing cord and I decided to change direction. I was walking down a dark street and I decided to go into an alley to get some sleep. It must have been about eight-thirty. I am used to going to bed at eight o’clock. I remember standing against the wall with my eyes closed, thinking about a hot meal and a warm bed. Then I heard some noise and opened my eyes. I saw a big black ugly cat. The cat startled me and ran back out of the alley. Moments later I left the alley feeling scared, hungry and sleepy. While walking down the street a police car pulled over towards me. I was so happy but I didn’t show it. The officer asked me where I was going. I told the officer I had run away from home. The officer asked me for my home address. I gave him my mother’s address. My mother shared a three bedroom apartment with her girlfriend (Linda Bowen) who lived two blocks away from where I was living with my aunt and uncle. The officer took me to my mother’s house and he talked with her for a few minutes and left. The only thing my mother was concerned with was my health. That really made me feels proud to be her son. She fixed me a plate of food and put me to bed. From that day on I lived with my mother until I enlisted in the army. I will always remember my 4th grade because I was the teacher’s pet. My teacher was young, attractive and had total command of the classroom. Also, she had a nice personality. That year stood out the most in my childhood because I saw my little perfect world turned upside down. I say this because when I started living with my mom and her girlfriend (Linda), I was getting more of everything: sodas, candy, toys, money, more control of the TV and more freedom. My mom and her roommate made me feel loved, comfortable and not wanting for anything. I was given so much money that I decided to save up so I could buy a shoe-shine box. Buying a shoe-shine box was one of the happiest moments of my young life; it was a good hustle for little kids. I would go inside the neighborhood bar for an hour and make about fifty-eighty cents every Saturday morning. That was a lot of money for someone my age. In the fifties every bartender would let little boys into their bar if they had a shoe-shine box. In the fifties men would go into bars on Saturday morning just to get their shoes shined for Sunday. A shoe-shine cost ten cents and the men knew which little boy they wanted to shine their shoes. Most of the men would give you a tip for giving a good shoe-shine. So there were many incentives to give the customer the best shine possible. Even the drunks respected kids with shoe-shine boxes.

Back then it was normal to see kids and adults helping elders cross the street or carrying their bags. It was like a commitment or something to do naturally to help senior citizens. During my childhood people were much more respectful towards children and especially elders than people are today. Many times I would go to the movies at one PM on Saturday and Sunday during the same week. It cost only fifteen cents to get into the theaters and only ten cents for a hot dog. A bag of popcorn was a nickel. It was natural to see the younger kids going to the movies with the older kids (twelve-sixteen) as their guardians. During my childhood there was no such thing as R-Rated movies.

I remember meeting and getting acquainted with my mom’s roommate’s oldest brother (Buddy) and one of her sisters (Anne), whom everyone called Bit because she was small. She was in college; I think she was in her senior year. Everyone got along like one happy family. She spent the summer with us and was a pleasure to be around. She had a wonderful personality. Later in life she got married and had a daughter. She became principal of an elementary school in Camden, NJ. She had also advised my mom to send my daughter to the same (Montessori) private school that she had sent her daughter, Kimberly, to. My mom’s roommate (Linda’s) oldest brother, Buddy, was a happy-go-lucky kind of guy. He was about thirty. I haven’t seen him since the seventies; he passed away when he was about seventy years old. He never married nor had any children that I knew of. He would always come by to see us at least four times a week and give me a nickel or dime as well as any old coins he had. I would always ask to check everyone’s change for old coins because I could sell them to a restaurant owner who became my friend over time. He had a large coin chart on the wall in his restaurant showing what he would pay for old coins. Old coins were plentiful during my childhood. This restaurant owner knew that all kids enjoyed playing his pinball machines, so that’s where he posted his coin chart. He was just using the neighborhood kids to build up his coin collection. When I started junior high school I began my own coin collection. By then old coins were hard to come by.

I remember waking up once in the middle of the night because of the commotion I heard coming from the living room. I got out of bed to see what was going on. When I went into the living room I saw about six people and some luggage. Everyone seemed happy to see my mom’s roommate. Minutes later I was told that the people were my mom’s roommate’s younger sisters, brothers and father. They had just come up from NC. Later I was told they lost their farm and would be living with us. After everyone got settled in, one of the sisters (Faye) started frying eggs. She was making hard-fried egg sandwiches. It was the first time I ever ate a hard-fried egg. The next time would be when I was in the army ten years later. I was raised up eating scrambled and sunny-side-up eggs. I must’ve eaten three sandwiches that night. After everyone ate I was asked to sleep on a small cot next to the window in my mom’s bedroom. That was the beginning of the end of my perfect little world. The days of sleeping in a large bed in my own bedroom were over. I didn’t mind too much because I knew we had to make room for Linda’s family. The next day we were all introduced. There were two boys. One of them was my age. His name was Samuel; everyone called him Sam. He was unique because he acted so country with his southern accent—a lot more than the others in his family. He was assigned to my classroom and became the teacher’s pet. That bothered me for a few days because I had been the teacher’s pet. Later in life he finished college, married twice and had two sons. The last time I saw Sam was at my mom’s New Year’s Eve party back in the seventies. For many years all the New Year’s Eve parties were held at my mother’s house. The only people that came to those parties were the Bowens, Thompson’s and our friends. Those parties were so nice that they would last until six AM. Sam passed away at age fifty-seven. The other boy was about three years older than me. His name was Daniel; everyone called him Dan. He had a very quick temper. It took him about two years to adjust to our northern city ways and about five fights that he lost. We had two or three fights as a result of his quick temper. Someone talked Dan into going to a boxing gym to learn how to box so he could better defend himself. He started going to the gym one-three times a week for two years. He was very serious about going to the gym. I was a little worried that when he learned how to box he would beat me up whenever he felt like it. Instead, Dan taught me everything he learned at the boxing gym, which was a surprise to me. I was like his sparring partner. I just wanted to get along with him because we lived under the same roof. After two years of training, Dan realized he had lost his quick temper along the way. So he didn’t see any sense in continuing his training. By then we were more like brothers than enemies. During that time Dan started a coin collection and his oldest brother (Buddy) started giving him the old coins that he stumbled across. I didn’t mind that Buddy started giving Dan his old coins. After all, blood is thicker than water. All I used to do was take Buddy’s old coins and sell them to the restaurant owner so I could have money to play his pin ball machines and eat cheese steaks. His restaurant was the spot! Dan bought several coin books and let me read them. I learned so much about coins that I decided to start my own coin collection.

Dan was very smart in school. In the sixties there was a lot of media talk about computers being the future. Dan went to and finished computer school. Then he enlisted in the Air Force. Everyone was shocked! For some reason the Air Force kicked him out during his third year. At that time he was stationed in Okinawa, Japan. Since that time, Dan showed himself only on Christmas Day for the rest of his life. He would talk to us only about sports, his hobby (racing cars) and small talk. Dan lived a private life. He gave the kids (nieces, nephews and my kids) money on Christmas Day. He never married nor had children that I knew of. He passed away at age fifty-nine. I hadn’t seen him since he was about thirty-five.

I was introduced to Faye the first time she arrived. We talked a lot while she was frying eggs. She seemed so warm and friendly and very easy to talk to. Faye married two years later and had a boy (Kevin) and girl (Rochelle). My mom was her son’s godmother. Faye divorced about fifteen years later. She helped my daughter move into college during her freshman year. At present, I think she’s a retired crossing guard. She also keeps an eye on my mom who just returned from the hospital. For the past nine years Faye has baked me my favorite cake for my birthday. I haven’t seen Faye in twenty-five years, or her children in forty-five years. My mom and Faye have taken two cruises to Alaska in the past eight years.

During this time I remember meeting another one of Linda’s sisters. Her name was Ella Mae Bowen, and she was in eleventh or twelfth grade, she looked about seventeen. Ella went to Michigan State University and also earned her PhD. I think she spent most of her career working for insurance companies. Years later my mom asked Ella to be my daughter’s godmother and, of course, she accepted. Ten years later my daughter moved to Philly and Ella used her influence to get my daughter into a high school for the gifted and talented. Ella married late in life and never had children. I think she’s now retired, and she, too, is keeping an eye on my mom. That same year I met another of Linda’s brothers, Robert; everyone called him Bra. He was one of the nicest guys I had ever met. He was living in North Jersey and was an airplane mechanic, a skill he learned in the Air Force. Bra used to visit us about three times a month, always taking the boys (Dan, Sam and me) bowling. He was an excellent bowler and a good teacher; he made bowlers out of us. I continued to bowl on and off for the rest of my life. I think I taught every girlfriend I had how to bowl. I didn’t see much of Bra after I went into the Army in 1968. I am not sure of his marriage status or if he ever had children. At present he’s retired and living with his oldest sister, Linda. About twelve years ago Bra came with my mom to visit me at Good Shepherd. That was the last time I saw him. I forgot to mention one of Linda’s sisters, Lois. She was a year or two younger than Linda. I remember her living about five blocks from us. She was married with three boys (Jeffrey, Benjamin and Milton). She divorced about fifteen years into her marriage. I lost contact with the family back in the seventies. The Bowens, my mom and I would spend the major holidays together. It