Hold Tight to Your Blessings

By Daniel V. Townsend

In this inspirational memoir, Daniel V. Townsend writes of the various blessings and miracles which God has granted in his life-saving his life, redirecting his life, answering prayers, and guiding him to wonderful experiences with the Lord. Daniel is a normal man full of troubles and tribulations, yet because of his loving parents and his stron

• Language: English
• Publisher: Palmetto Publishing
• Release date: Jun 24, 2022
• ISBN: 9781638379300

Daniel V. Townsend

Author Daniel V. Townsend is a man for all seasons. He grew up in a blue collar Southern home. After college, his industrial promotions elevated him to positions in Baltimore, Philadelphia, New York City, Boston, and Denver. Each of these locations moved him farther away from his home. He is grateful and loyal.Daniel has travelled the world as an adult, based on his commitment to life plans with his children. His ancestors came to Jamestown, Virginia, in 1621, and the fourth generation came South to Carolina. Daniel loves the Lord. His devout Christianity was formed in his early family life, right after World War II when his dad returned from serving. His education and that whole era were greatly influenced by WWII. Daniel is a retired history teacher, and an historian of most things regarding North Carolina. This is his fourth book.

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BACKGROUND

M

y parents were a modest Christian family with a strong trust that God would always provide and watch over them. They raised three children on a modest income with many unpredictable tribulations along the way. Each of those three children grew up to earn master's degrees and become highly and sufficiently successful.

My mother told us the story of giving herself to Jesus at the age of 12. In 1934 she attended a tent revival meeting. When her girlfriends and she left that night, they were excited to speak of and share Jesus. They sang and glorified Jesus as they walked along the railroad tracks singing hymns all the way home. My mother was very athletic, a state tennis girl. This was in eastern North Carolina.

I recall one day when I had been caught by her bringing dirt into the living room. Well, Mom had just cleaned those rugs. She was hot mad! I saw her grab a fly swatter and the chase was on. I kept yelling, Mama, don’t hit me. Please don’t hit me, as we ran through every room in the house. Finally, I got ahead of her and safely ducked under the folds of the kitchen tablecloth. Boy was I out of breath and scared. Now, mom strolled in seconds behind me and returned to her dishwashing task. I didn’t move a muscle! After a few minutes, mom took a glass filled with soapy water and lifted the fold of the table. I was unprotected. She began laughing at me and doused me well. I was dripping wet from head to toe. I never brought dirt into the house again, and I still love mom.

My dad, who was called DV, was also athletic. Unfortunately, his childhood was much more tragic than a child should ever be faced with. His mother was a Carter and had been out killing hogs one eve, and she came down with pneumonia and died at 34. My dad was only 7 years old when this family tragedy occurred. At age 11, he and his dad were out working the tobacco fields. They were topping off tobacco plants when his father had a stroke and died three days later. This left his dad's third wife in a mess. A man or a woman needed a spouse to manage a farm during those years. It was bleak for DV, his sister, and younger brother named Daniel Roscoe.

At that time, D.V. was sent to live with his Uncle Berta Townsend, a reverend of the Salem Baptist Church in Winston Salem. My dad didn’t get along with his beefy cousin Carlyle who regularly thwarted and beat on him. His cousin continued making my dad's life miserable by regularly continuing his cascade of implementing pain and embarrassment on him. Dad's life was unspeakably hard from the time he was 11 until he was old enough to join the US Army medical corps at the still young and tender, yet impressionable, at the age of 17. Dad was in Ft. Bragg, just nine miles west of Fayetteville, North Carolina. Dad was a hands-on medic in downtown Fayetteville.

On a side note, Fayetteville has been renamed several times. First, for the Scots in 1747 and later for Marquis de Lafayette, the French General who helped colonists in the War of Independence. The earliest name was Cross Creek and the Scottish renamed it Campbelltown. At one time around 1747, there were about 150 Scottish ships bound for Campbelltown. The N.C. Governor had granted ten years of tax-free status for any Scot that would immigrate to North Carolina. Therefore, the Scottish folk and clans lived up to their thrifty reputations. They flowed into NC because of that invitation.

Alma Sullivan-Townsend (my mother)

When she met D.V. Townsend

At fifteen years of age.

MY CHILDHOOD YEARS

M

y parents began their family at a young age. My mother was 17 and my dad was 20. Their first child, Mamie Patricia, was born in 1940. Their second child, James Daniel, was born during the Christmas holidays and later died around Easter. My parents were devastated and heartbroken. They prayed for a son and were thrilled when I was born. I was born on March 16, 1944. Nine years later, my younger brother William Frank was born. They were poor, as were most during that time. My dad drove a Merita bread truck and my mother stayed home and raised us. In a few years, she ran one of the shoe repair shops dad had opened in Fayetteville.

She co-managed that business for thirty-five long years. She did everything including scrubbing the shop floors on Sundays after church. She was part of a new breed of women who did work previously held by men only. Banking, ordering supplies from vendors, customer service, and public relations were tasks that only she was equipped to master. She functioned with a big smile and with becoming mannerisms. Mom's pay was atrociously low even for the ‘50s through the ‘90s.

I developed double pneumonia at age two and spent many weeks in the hospital. I regularly was seen at Duke University Hospital for many years thereafter. My sickness demanded much of my young mother's attention as well as a lot of the family income. Many of my younger years were spent with oxygen tanks, sulphur liquids, and bad tasting drinks which caused my teeth to turn black. Slowly, I did begin to grow. In retrospect, I know that was God's hand, and the first of many miracles He blessed me with.

My mother moved to Carolina Beach with me where the salty winter air flowed. The doctors suggested the fresh salty air would help my asthma and keep my lungs open and healthier. We had a single-room apartment that always seemed cold even with a kerosene stove used for heat. Mother, Alma was always praying for me, and no one doubted her love and devotion to the care of me and the demand of her time that I required. It was difficult with her husband, my father, one hundred miles away working his Merita bread route. We were blessed to be able to support two households and for me to receive the care I needed to thrive and grow. With allergy shots from my local Doctor Weldon Jordan and those from Duke, my development became steadier, I was able to lead a more normal life. I was allergic to bread, milk, eggs and most everything that was allergically tested on my arms or back.

Daniel, 8 years old, at Duke University

During the early years of my childhood, my dad would drive Mr. Hollingsworth and me to all of the Duke home football games. I gained an interest in football and became very fond of my new freedom with daddy. We continued this tradition for eight years.

When I was ten years old, I was caught in a bad rip current at Carolina Beach. I was still growing from boy to man. I felt in that moment that I was going to die. The sea was torrid, and I had never heard of such surf dangers. I moved swiftly out to sea in the tow of the current for about thirty yards. That's when I felt a hand grab my ankle and pull me towards land which was another one of God's miracles in my life. Harvey Taylor, who had seen me go under and become lost with the currents, swam hard to fight the riptide and save me from sure death. Indeed this was another miracle.

At the age of 11, I tried out for the Jaycee Little League football