Never Bitter: My Life & Struggles with the Results of Polio

By Whitney C. Weatherly

Stories about a man who did not let his disability define him. Captivating his audience with humor and heart felt emotion causing you to gasp. leaving you on the edge of you r seat waiting to see what happens next.

• Language: English
• Publisher: LifeRich Publishing
• Release date: Feb 28, 2023
• ISBN: 9781489743428

Whitney C. Weatherly

Disability did not define him.

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Copyright © 2023 Whitney C. Weatherly.

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ISBN: 978-1-4897-4341-1 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4897-4343-5 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4897-4342-8 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2022915122

LifeRich Publishing rev. date: 02/27/2023

DEDICATION

I WOULD LIKE TO DEDICATE this book to Billy Hudson my good friend and co-worker for many years. He visited me after I stopped working, gave me encouragement and brotherly love. My other co-workers who listened to my crazy stories. My church family at Eastside Baptist Church Sumter, SC who prayed for me and loved me. Lenora’s family who treated me like one of their own. My Aunt Helen W. McGee for all she did for me after my mother died. She loved me like her son. My Aunt Lillian who encouraged me to write my story.

My siblings Harwood, Linda and Clark for never treating me like I was handicapped. They believed in me even when I wasn’t sure. Clark for always telling me I could do great things and didn’t want me to give up.

My wonderful wife that God picked out just for me. He knew what I needed. Thank you Lenora for never giving up on me and taking such good care of me. Just doing what love does. I Love You.

And for you the reader, you hold in your hand my story. May God Bless you for reading it. If you think you can’t do it, whatever IT IS, think again. I did it so I know you can too! by Whitney C. Weatherly

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I HAD SUPPORT FROM MY now husband Ken for the last 8 years in getting this book published. Thank you. My son Richard for letting me bounce all kinds of things off of him, putting up with me. Thanks

I want to give a heartfelt Thank you to my sister in law Denise Todd for her many long hours of helping me get all this to the publisher. The many phone calls for help and her patience with me when I needed it most. I literally could not have done it without you. God Bless you for your love and giving of yourself. by Lenora Weatherly Schwabenbauer

A GREAT BIG THANK YOU

TO THE FOLLOWING

TIM WITH CLEMSON UNIVERSITY. GO TIGERS!

BEN GRIFFITH FOR EVERYTHING.

TRANA AT THE SHRINERS CHIDREN’S HOSPITAL, GREENVILLE SC

MR. ZIRKMAN AND LYNN WITH THE BOY SCOUTS OF AMERICA

KAYLA WITH THE SUMTER ITEM, SUMTER SC

MICKEY BELL FORMER BOY SCOUT LEADER

AND TO ALL THE FRIENDS AND FAMILY THAT WROTE NOTES FOR WHITNEY’S (WHIT) BOOK

GOD BLESS YOU ALL.

CONTENTS

Dedication

Acknowledgments

Short Note to Reader

To the Family of Whitney Weatherly

Showing Off My Wears

The Yucca Bush

Trying To Keep Up

Blood, Sweat and Fears

The Making of a Champion

Take That Brother

Learning To Beg

Sticky 5 Fingers

My First Fishing Trip

Cliff Hangers

The Drunk -- Man’s Walk

The Doughnut Man

Boy Scouts

Leg Shakers

The Swap

The Runaways

Monkey Cigars And Stealing Dad’s Cigarettes

Circle Of Fire

The Dinner Table

Boat Building Days

The Shriner’s Hospital

On The Job -- Sitting Down

In The Doghouse

Dust Clouds

What Was That

Watch Out For The Goozel

Ole Petie

Daniel Boone Days

Archery Days

Clemson University

Just Because

Notes From Family And Friends

Sweetheart My Darling

SHORT NOTE TO READER

THE STORIES IN THIS BOOK were written using a voice to text software.

While the word may be spelled correctly it may not be the right one.

So we are sorry for any confusion this may cause while you are enjoying the read.

Thank You

TO THE FAMILY OF WHITNEY WEATHERLY

AS I RECALL, IT WAS the summer of 1963. I was Field Sprots Director at Camp Coker, the Scout Camp of the Pee Dee Area Council, located near Society Hill South Carolina. I saw a boy whose name, I later found out, was Whitney Weatherly. My heart sank when I saw his mother let him out of the car. He had full, heavy looking braces on his legs and also crutches for his arms. He left his arm braces in the car. I didn’t think much more about it until I found out that he wanted to take Archery Merit Badge for which I was the instructor. I told his Scoutmaster that I didn’t think it was feasible, because I had noticed that his arm muscles were underdeveloped. It would be impossible for him to be able to complete the merit badge. You see, I prided myself, that given enough time and effort, I could get any Scout through the shooting qualifications. I did not like to fail, and this had failure and frustration written all over it. His Scoutmaster insisted and i relented.

I was partially correct, and it was frustrating for Whitney and me. He could not draw the bowstring back to a sufficient degree to be able to propel the arrow to get to the target, much less hit it. As was my policy, any Scout who wished to, could seek to meet the shooting qualifications during any free instructional period, rest perod, or before breakfast or after supper. As I recall, Whitney took me up on every opportunity. He was tenacious, but far from successful. After many unsuccessful tries, we got down to the last chance. I think it was before breakfast on Saturday, the last day. His form had not improved. His draw was still unsatisfactory. But somehow the arrows were getting to and hitting the target. It was mind and will over matter. It was impossible, but somehow he was within the possibility of shooting a qualifying score. It got down to the last five arrows. I explained to him that he had to be perfect.He had to put each arrow within a six-inch circle of gold at thirty feet. It was like time stood still. HE DID IT. It was impossible, but it happened. I knew that I experienced a miracle.

I knew more miracles were needed in Whitney’s life. I was aware that he was going after camp to have serious surgery. He would have to be in a body cast for months afterwards. If anyone could survive and thrive, I knew Whitney would. I never found out. For some reason our paths never crossed again. I had asked about him from people in Darlington SC, where I thought he was from. No one knew of him. Ironically, he was from Sumter SC. As a United Methodist Church pastor, I served in the Sumter area twice, in the early nineties, and as a retired supply from 2008 to 2011.

I’ve never forgotten that moment. As a clergyman, I’ve experienced a few other miracles, impossible things that occur nevertheless. I have shared this story perhaps hundreds of times all over South Carolina in just about every Church I have served. I finally heard about Whitney Weatherly. It came as a shock when I saw his obituary in the State Newspaper. I went to the visitation last night and knew no one, but picked out a person by instict, asking if he was family. He introduced himself as Clark, Whitney’s brother.

I told you Clark that I would write this story for you and the family. I went to tell the story to someone, and have written this as my tribute and gift to Whitney, whose struggle and triumph have given me hope in my own struggles in life. I have been the better for it. I hope this serves as comfort for you all.

In His Service

Mickey Bell Irmo, SC

SHOWING OFF MY WEARS

Age 3

BOY, OH- BOY, MY GOODNESS sakes ………… what can I say? I’ll tell you what ……….. That is one good looking boy there ……..!! Standing up straight and everything!! Boy it doesn’t get much better than this!! I got my new clothes on with a matching hat. All I need to do now, is hold out my hand, grab the money and run! Don’t laugh -- in case you didn’t look very good -- I now have four legs working for me. I’ve never seen that many zeros written down on a piece of paper before: $ 3 0 0 0 . 0 0!!! Let’s see -- that’s more than enough money to buy a couple of cars; and have each one loaded down with toys, all kinds of toys!! Right -- right!! Yeah, oop’ s, uh- oh …….. I sure hope I don’t have to count all that money; because you see, I can’t count that high -- yet!! I think I’m going to change my mind, because you see, I’m sure I could enjoy counting every single dollar of it -- no matter how long it takes. I could get my brothers and sister to help me with counting all of it.

Wait a minute - wait a minute - wait a minute!! You mean to tell me that this is not money!??. It is not real money …. it’s only a check …, and it doesn’t even have my name on it??? What in the world are you talking about? You mean to say I got all dudded-up for this … to stand face to face with the base commander at Shaw A.F.B.….. just to have my picture made and have a piece paper slip through my hands -- -- well okay!!! God knew this picture would mean a lot to me, in the later years. HE also knew that this picture would one day be put in a book for others to look at and see what HE has done for me!! Wow -- you guys out there need to find a comfortable seat and continue reading!! Finding this picture -- in and of itself was a huge challenge and feat (small miracle) for my wife and I!! For you see, I knew there was a picture out there of me standing with someone at Shawfield. I also knew I was being given some money, or a check or something! I never had a copy of it myself. I thought that my daddy or siblings would have a copy of it -- not not! You have heard of the expression it was like looking for a needle in the haystack !

Not only did we have one haystack to look into -- but we now had two haystacks to look into, because this picture was printed in two different newspapers -- how about that? I told you I was good-looking!! Yea -- don’t you believe me now!! This assignment was very tough, since we did not have a date or time frame to work with. At best -- we had the approximate year that it may have been published, but that was all!

Well it was like that -- until a small miracle happened!! I truly mean that in case you’re wondering! In fact, I daresay that you can find where HE has blessed me on each and every page of this book!!

One might ask if I remember this time of my life? I would have to answer back -- yes!! How could one forget about these tough days? I have forgotten a lot of things as I’ve gotten older, but not this. I distinctly remember playing with the plastic model jet that I received on this very same day!! Man - I’ll tell you what, I played with that plastic jet for a number of years to follow! It was quite tough\molded out of one piece of plastic with a separate stand to put it on!

And if you don’t think I remember - what it was like walking in my braces with the use of crutches, then something is wrong with your brain!! After all, this was a full body brace that went all the way from my toes up to the top of my chest.

There are a lot of other people who are still living you know, who remember a great deal about how hard it was back during the late 40’s and early 50’s ie when the polio outbreaks were tripling and quadrupling in numbers across the country!! The total number of cases reaching well-over 100,000’s victims. People who still remember the fear that was widespread; especially since there was no cure yet, and most people had no clue where it was coming from!! Parents that would not let their children outside to play, for fearing that their children could contact and catch Polio!! After all, it is easy to see how fear became commonplace, since this virus was so sneaky; with no warnings, it could kill in a matter of two or three days!! For the victims that were not killed by poliomyelitis, they most often received a reminder some-where about their person, where they can definitely say: I survived Polio!!

1-23-09W.W.

CROPPED%20GAZETTE%20NEWSCLIP_GS.jpg

Whitney (age 3) at Shaw AFB Sumter, SC getting a $3000

check from base Commander for the March of Dimes.

PIC21.jpg

THE YUCCA BUSH

Age 4-6

YOU MAY HAVE NOTICED AND probably I should have said that this book has a great deal of emotion and feelings involved so far. This story deal’s with some severe and excruciating PAIN then and as I write about it now - The Bush!! Actually there was just one plant however, it was so big that I elect to cal it THE BUSH instead of the plant. You’re probably wandering why do I want to write about a stupid plant - Bush - or whatever- well just hold on you’ll see.

I don’t know how that plant got there or how long it had been there; but I do know right where it was located. It was on the left side of the back door steps, as you face looking up the steps while standing on the ground. It was as tall as all of the 3-4 steps there. The Yucca Bush did look kind of neat there, but as I look back at it, it also looked sort of Evil you might say, omminus and Ready! For what I don’t know. I do know that the bush could not grow any closer to the side of those steps; course you see, if you walked up or down on that side you probably would get stabbed! One could usually tell when a new kid or new visitor came in the house via the back door, cause you would hear them holler out a cry of pain as that Bush reached out and got-em!

As a kid, I tried to kill it many times because it would literally Hurt you if you came close (yea-yea ok too close). I used to beat it down and out of shape with a big stick, only to find out after a few days that it was coming back again and again. I would even sit on the steps and pull out some of those daggers for leaves that it had in an effort to dismantle it. Man oh man those special modified leaves that it had were so very hard to pull out because they were tuff and armed with a super sharp hard needle point tip that would easily cause you to bleed if you got pricked by one. The bush had many leaves on it and they were close enough together that you could hardly reach in and grab one to pull out without getting stuck by another one. Also if you did not grip the leaf firmaly before pulling on it, the edges would slice your hand and fingers like a knife as it slipped through your grip.

I even tried using or wearing a pair of leather gloves that my Dad had from his work truck to get back at this bush with out much success! As a small kid it took me awhile to realize that this bush was trying to teach me something and that is don’t mess with something that you have no business with!!! You see, God made this Bush here to survive on it’s own. Only after I took a closer look at these daggers, and saw how my own blood was changing the over all look of this bush did I give it my full respect!

Getting stuck by this bush was much more painful then getting any shot at some Doctors office. The pain from getting stuck would linger as if the tip of the dagger had some sort of poison or something on it’s tip. Back then as I was growing up, pain was something that one quickly learned how to suppress, even though it was still there. My brothers had their own ways of making sure that I didn’t go inside the couse crying to mother when I got hurt by one of them, which seemed to be rather routinely. And as you might have guessed, there were times when I would be tagging along behind my brothers coming out of the house or going into the house when someone’s elbow, hand or leg would bump me just a little in the right direction so that I would loose my balance (which I really never HAD to start with) and end up - you know where - taking what I call A BLOOD BATH - in that very despised and much hated Yucca Bush. Oh it still hurts me now. If there happened to ever be any inquiries as to what had just happened to me after falling there, the reply would always be; Whitney lost his balance! Yeah Right. I can picture myself even now when I was learning how to walk all over again with my full body braces (chest and both legs) with crutches. It was pretty hard learning how to walk with this stuff, cause I remember having plenty of spills. Both of the full leg braces had to have my knees locked out in the straight position so that my knees would not bend in order for me to walk. If I didn’t lock each leg in the straight position and my knee bent much at all I would collapse to the floor with a big Wham! And yes it hurt not just the body but other stuff too, like my will to continue on.

All I wanted was to be a kid and go outside and play with other kids. But wearing all those braces and stuff made it very hard. Other kids had it really good it seemed to me, cause they could do all the really neat things like; run, hop, skip, jump, run zig-zag, chase each other etc... I was like the old turtle that had to move meticulously with very short calculated steps, and when I finally got to where I was going. I just stopped and fell. That’s right, just fell. If you don’t believe me, try to sit down on the floor or ground without bending your knees!

There were times when I would be making my way up the back door steps wearing my braces and cructches and go to reach for the door latch to open the door, while on the top stop and then - then - then, I would miss grabbing the door latch and - and - oh my - oh my, NO, loose it and fall (sure seemed like a real long way)backwards into THE BUSH. It seemed like the whole fall was in slow motion, cause a lot of things went through my mind real fast. Especially thinking of how I was going to try to protect something on my person. I can’t describe the rest. It was bad any way you look at it! Falling backwards off the upper steps onto the Bush was usually more painful than falling frontwards off the steps while trying to go down them and loosing it. A number of times I would just roll abit and lie there on the ground after receiving what I call mortal wounds from the fall. It would be a fight and struggle then with the ants and me as I lay on the ground wounded and bleeding! Come on you guys - I was 4 -6 years old! I’m serious, some of those stab wounds to the hands, hips or shoulders would disable a person for awhile.

You may now wonder where was the HELP for me? There wans’t any most of the time, cause Dad was always gone and mother slept a lot. The majority of these spills happened when I was alone. There you go swallow the pain, grin and bear it.

Well, that’s probably enough about that crazy -evil Yucca Bush. I guess the only last thing I would ike to mention here is that Jesus Christ died on a cross with a crown of thorns smashed into his head. I think that he helped me survive some of those episodes that I might understand and feel some of the PAIN that he did!

ww 8-28-07

TRYING TO KEEP UP

LET ME START OUT HERE by saying that sometimes, being the youngest child in the family, can be pretty good: but it can also be confusing and frustrating, especially if you’re like me.

I was fortunate enough to have two older brothers and one older sister. Harwood was 5 years older than me, Clark was 4 years older than me, and my sister Linda was just one and a half years older. You see...what ever they were doing at the time seem to be pretty cool to me. There weren’t many years of age difference between us, so you could imaging that I wanted to be included in whatever they were doing.

Since we really did not have many toys to play with and stuff like that; we ended up going outside to play all of the time. Dad never bought us any big items like bicycle’s or tricycle’s or such, heck I don’t even remember him buying us much of anything; except taking all of us out to dinner or something like that. Which was only a couple of times every few months. I guess that my mother Babette didn’t have much money either to buy us things with. She would surprise us every so often and take us to Brown’s Five cent & Ten cent store on Broad Street and let us get a few things each We would get things like a rubber ball, or comic book, or maybe a plastic model and glue to put it together with. Linda would get a small doll, stuffed animal or a Jack and Stone set to play jacks with. We might get lucky and get a coloring book with a new box of crayons. Man -- that would be hitting it ---BIG!!! We had to share the coloring book and crayons though.

Dad always had his Pabst Blue Ribbon Beer there and his Lucky Stripes cigaretes and Mother had her special needs expense ongoing.

Excuse me for getting a little off track here.. speaking of tracks, that is what this story is suppose to be all about. Ok ... here we go.

As a kid of 4-6 years old, there was not need to complain of being bored with nothing to do. If we told Mother or Dad that we were sent outside into the yard to find something to do. Every now and then they would suggest that you could take out the trash or go and clean up the yard -- better yet -- go and rake the yard! I don’t think we even had a television set back then during this time.

Thus, here we go outside again. Well it didn’t take very long before my brothers found a way to skip out of the yard and avoid any of this work to be done. That’s right, they would skipout and slip away into the woods behind our house. I don’t know what my sister found to do to keep her busy, cause I also slipped out the door to get away. My brothers had spent a lot of time playing in the woods over the years, along with a few other kids and they had created a number of waysto have fun. They used to build all sorts of things, such as forts to play Army in with realy fox holes, century post and look-out post. They cut paths through the woods with a hatchet and machete. these paths would lead all over the place and criss-cross every now and then. They made a real bridge that went across a big ditch and of course we had ropes hanging from various tress here and there to use for climbing. Well, a lot of times my brothers would be on the fast track to get away from the house and leave me in the dust. Sometimes I would get a clue from them where they were going, most of the time not! I was a pretty small fella with only one slow - slow speed, but that didn’t matter because I would be hot on their trail anyway! I learned to use my ears really good to listen for any noises or sounds that they might make as they were going through the woods. I also watched out carefully for any dust that might be lingering around in the air to help guide me to them. You see I had plenty of opportunities to watch and listen because I needed to sit down from time to time because my legs would be very tired already. On every journey out of the yard when my legs got tired, I would begin to crawl on my hands and knees to continue onward. Heck - I could crawl a lot further and a whole lot faster than I could walk anyway! Crawling for me became my best way of getting around never mind wearing the toes out of my shoes or tearing holes in my pants at the knees. I had to try and get there where my brothers were one way or another! My nick-name given to me was - you guessed it -- SPIDER! You can ask anyone who knew me back then that I was pretty fast (faster than some kids my age could run) on my hands and knees. I could do some tricks on my hands and knees that normal kids couldn’t do. I learned how to do those tricks so that the other kids would not make so much fun of me.

For those stupid kids who did try and push me down and make fun of me, they ended up being very sorry and ready to make their escape. Because you see I was so fast on my hands and knees that I could turn around on them, reach out and grab their leg or something and have them under my control with long arms and fierce vice grip hands before they knew what was happening! Once they were mine, I would put on the squeeze until they cried out. Sometimes I felt like breaking their fingers they used to point at me with as they made fun of me. I even wanted to break their arms as well - cause I’m sure I had the power to do so if I chose.

I’d like to take a moment here to warn those parents with young children. TEACH them not to make fun of other kids that may have a problem of some sort - because IT’S WRONG... that sort of making fun of someone does more DAMAGE to a child with a problem that you can ever imagine. THANKS.

On with the stroy...

Being in the woods back then was about like being in a jungle. Everything around was all grown up; the huge trees, vines, bushes, briars, underbrush and so on. Being a small kid who stood only about 3 to 31/2 feet tall, you could not see very far because of so many obstacles. The paths throughout the woods were not straight for any long distance, which would further hinder me from finding my brothers. I would keep going no matter what!

It wouldn’t do for me to call out for them, because they might decide to run off somewhere else in the woods. The best thing for me to do would be to keep going and come up on them with surprise, then they would usually include me into whatever they were doing. Sometimes when they made their slip out of the house, they went up to Broad Street and then across it (4 lanes) to the Drug store named Broad Street Pharmacy. When they did so I occasionally got lucky and saw them as they made their way up Carolina Ave to Broad St. Again, I would try and follow them even though they didn’t want me to..Going to the drug storet usually was a pretty good treat because my brothers would buy a small or medium Cherry Coke from the fountain. Yes that’s right-this drug store had a grill and fountain inside. If they had another 5 cents left over they would buy a Big Time Candy Bar.

Well, it was a long haul for me to try and make, but I would set out after them anyway. I couldn’t tell my mother where I was going, because if I did, she wouldn’t let me go. Usually by the time my brothers were comfortable sitting on stools at the fountain and talking to Dianne, already half way through with their Cherry Coke, I would pop up out of know where to their surprise to see what they would give me! Before they would think about trying to give me something, they would already be mad at me for showing up. They weren’t even worried about how in the world I made it across the 4 lanes of traffic on Broad Street or anything like that. They knew that I didn’t have any money to buy something with so they would have to share a little of what they had. Most often that sharing would be a weak watered down version of cherry coke with some crushed ice and the last bite of their candy bar. Sometimes Dianne would feel sorry for me and make a real nice stong cherry coke for me in a small cup. WOW- That was great! To top it all off by making this dangerous journey, was that one of my brothers would usually give me a ride back home Piggy Back style! Boy that would be the real treat; even more so if he were to run with me on his back for a distance or two. You don’t know how great it feels to have the wind blowing in your face, because most of you take that for granted!

I will proudly say that either of my two brothers would help me riding me piggy back style, whenever the need or opportunity arose.

There were times when my brothers would slip out of the yard and out of site before I knew what they were going to do. Usually I would go outside to try and see if I could pick up on any hint of a trail that they may have left behind; as in the sets of fresh footprints leaving our yard going together in the same direction. Yea man, that would be a nice give away.

Remember, there were not sidewalks on either side of Carolina Ave. back then; and still aren’t. Everyone that lived on this street had dirt driveways for my brothers footprints; and often times I would be on their trail again.

Yes, Yes, Yes.... it was very dangerous for me to be walking or crawling beside Carolina Ave or even Broad Street. You have to keep in mind that if I was walking, any little thing would cause me to fall down; things like rocks, sticks, pine cones, sweetgum balls, shoe strings, tall grass and so on. You see, when you put a miss step together with my lack of balance - there is usually one one result -- another fall all the way down to the ground or wherever. I realize now God and a few Angels were watching out for my safety on all of these excursions of trying to keep-up!!!

BLOOD, SWEAT AND FEARS

OK, OK, MY ORIGINAL STORY title here was going to be Blood, Sweat and Tears. Many of you have heard of that name before, that’s right - this was the name for a singing group a few years back in the 60’s and 70’s. I wanted to use that title because of all 4 words especially the last word Tears. For this story, that would have been an excellant title, however, I changed the last word from Tears to Fears. Hopefully, when you’ve finished reading this short story, you will see why I changed the title.

This story recalls a few years of my young life when I was 4- 7 years old. To be a little more specific in time this tory began when I first started venturing out of my back yard and into the woods behind our house. Many of you readers missed out on the good times of growing up as a kid and having the convenient access to woods, ditches, vines, broome straw fields and stuff like that.

Many of you are probably saying to yourself here now - what kind of fun is it to play in the woods and mess around on a nasty ditch bank or what good is it to fool around with broome straw. Well - hold your horse’s and I’ll tell you.

So far - none of what I’ve written has had much to do with this story title; and that’s because there are a couple of more elements that I have to describe and introduce. And the next element is - drum roll please - THE WALK!!

That’s right - The Walk. I need to say a few things here about my walk that probably has not been mentioned yet. Through out this book, I will refer to it as my walk, because it is uniquely mine. I have had to learn to walk a number of times through out my life un-like most of you, who only had to learn it once. My Walk if you want to call it that, has always been some what risky. It sort of reminds me of a drunk man trying to walk. You see - Polio really affected my lower extremities a lot whereby most all of my leg and foot muscles were damaged in one way or another. Suffice it to say that when I took a step, it had to be calculated; as to how hard I would fling forward my flopping foot by raising my knee. Thus as I transfered my weight to that foot, I had to be sure and lock my knee back from bending before I put any weight on that leg. That’s all! Oh I almost forgot this - that when I flung my foot forward usually the toe or something would drag a little on my right foot; and my left foot barely cleared the ground as it moved forward. Both of my feet were turned outward quite abit, whereby, I walked mostly on the instip of each foot. This condition was typically called club foot. Or in my case Clubed feet. It was hard to walk with shoes on because then i would have to raise my knee’s higher and fling my feet harder due to the extra weight of the shoes. Many times the shoes would catch on something, so insignificant to all of you out there; but it would be enough to cause me to fall, again! There are a lot ofther mechanics, tid bits of information, that had to be processed, such as visually looking ahead for the next best level spot to place my foot down before I took that next step(trying to maintain some sort of balance). I had to do some quick surveys of everywhere I was about to walk to analize the contour, gradients that were before me, so that I could choose the best direction of least uphill climb. Many times that direction would be in a zig zag style, like mountain roads are when you travel through the mountains. You see, the drunk-man and his walk did not have anything over one me - cause I had it going on. God above gave me plenty of things to work with inorder for me to walk; ie a smart brain, good eyes, a few muscles here or ther in my legs, plenty of will power and determination, enough strength and courage, little fear, an analitical mind and toughness. Oh - I can’t leave this out; God also gave me two exstra long arms that were strong enough to catch me with cause he knew I was going to be falling down a lot! Thank you God! He is always right by the way. I just had a weird thought go through my mind- that is, I wish my mother had taken me to Hollywood CA when I was a kid, because I believe I got more attention from everyone I ever saw looking at me because of my walk than Shirley Temple ever got, on a day by day basis. Oh well, enough of that, I’d rather play in the woods anyway.

Have I told you that my best time or best season of the year is summer? Well it is my best time by a long shot. Enter in another element to this story - Sweat. Yea I love summer a lot more than winter; cause my body gets too cold in the winter. You can’t go outside and play as much in the winter; at least I couldn’t because my skinny legs would always get as cold as the outside air temperature. I would loose all my little control over them along with loosing the feeling in them. Walking now was much more dangerous. Most of you guys didn’t mind cold winters around here in South Carolina becaue they really weren’t that cold to start with. If you got cold you could run around a little and get warm again. I couldn’t, cause I couldn’t skip, hop, run or jump. I could walk, crawl, fall down and I could climb real good. But none of that kept my legs and feet warm.

Well, Summer time prooved to be so much more to me, because mainly my two brothers would be home every day and not have to go to school. We always - mostly they always - had something going on and I found ways to include myself. Ha! Do you remember back when you were young and you learned a lesson of life like this one; You never really appreciated something unless you put in some sweat for it. I agree with this statement in several ways; one of which is the fact that no one had air conditioning back then and if you did much of anthing outside, you would be sweating. Not a problem since we were used to that anyway. Early summer also meant that we would soon be enjoying some of God’s little treats that he provides for FREE. Plumbs, yea sweet and sour plumbs. We had plumb trees growing wild around here and there. I usually got a que from my brothers when the plumbs were ready to eat; because their pockets would be bulging with plumbs. And yea, you probably guessed correctly again - they would also make sure that I got hit by a number of them before the day was over. I was their only moving target to throw at it seemed. I usually had to wait a little longer to get myself some plumbs, because I could not reach them like my brothers could since I was only 30" tall or so. I usually had to wait til they ripened enough to fall to the ground and then I would gather up enough to get my fill. Sometimes I would use a heavy stick or rock and throw it up into the plumb tree to knock a few plumbs to the ground. Since my shoulder muscles were not that strong, I could not throw the sticks of rocks for a long distance. Thus, I stood under the plumb trees, threw the heavy stick or rock up, covered my head with my arms, closed my eyes and waited. Yea, I just waited until the gatherling tool (stick) quit bouncing around over head in the tree and fell to the ground. Then it would be ok to look around to see my rewards lying on the gournd, a number of times I would see stars instead! Haha. I guess this was another lesson my brothers were teaching me - how to be self-reliant and how to work safely. Soon it would not be long before the plumb feasting days would come to an end. That was ok wtih me, cause that meant one less source of ammunition my brothers could use on me! There would be plenty of other natural treats out there that would come along; such as, Honey-suckle blooms that would yield that one sweet drop of necter which had to be savored slowly. This treat prooved to be not very poplular among most kids because they did not know how to get that one drop of honey out. It takes a lot of practice. What was really good would be to find a black cherry tree somewhere and see if its cherries were ripened yet. If they were, then it was time to eat. These black cherries were a good treat, as long as you don’t do what I did. Don’t climb up into the tree, perch somewhere on a branch and eat to many, because you’ll get drunk and fall out like I DID! This was the first time in my life that I knew I was going to Die. To start with, I fell a pretty good ways, at least 7 to 8 feet or more before I hit the ground really hard. I could not breath, that’s right, I couldn’t breath a lick, cause I have not ever hit the ground that hard before. That fall kncoked every bit of air I had out of my body and throwed me into SHOCK! Yea, you got SHOCK! I knew I was going to die.. I couldn’t inhale nothin, I tried and tried and couldn’t. I tried to breath in again and couldn’t, Oh Lord.. I’m a gonner! Boom. there it was somehow I believe God took a liking to me one more time and helped me breath. Oh my. I’m breathing again, barely. I remember just laying there trying to sort it all out. I remember saying to myself, I ain’t dead yet, am I going to die, am I going to die in the next minute or so? How long will it take me to die? Does it hurt to die? I don’t know if I can wait any longer to die, I know I can’t move anything yet, I can’t move a muscle, I must be going to die! Oh No!!!

Well, lo and behold, I realized after clearing out a few more cob webs in my head, and the stars quit spinning around; that the ants, big ones and little ones, were fixing to make a meal out of me lying there. And wouldn’t you know it, it was like a Miracle. I could move! Thank you God! Oh yea, I could move and move I did cause those ants were being seen everywhere by now. Anyway, I was up and going again. Man! I don’t think I climbed another black cherry tree that summer. A couple of hints for you rookies out there, watch out for the stains, because your mother will get you. Not only will the stains get you in trouble, but also the very sticky sap taht ouses our of some of the branches can be a real problem.

Well by now summer was in full force. You could go just about anywhere around the neighborhood and find some more sweet (sometimes sour) treats. There was always some grapes growing on someones grape vines. All you had to do was figure out a secret way through the woods and cross a fence or hedge row. Then sneak into their backyard without being seen and hide in or around the grape vine for cover. There you could eat all you wanted until your belly got full. While you were in their backyeard you had to look around for mean dogs and not make any noise, or you would have those dogs on your butt. You never wanted the dogs to bark because that could get you caught. Sometimes that meant real trouble. Oh I almost forgot, while in their backyards, you needed to be lookng for pear trees or crab apple trees and bring out an armful of them if they were ready to eat. Boy, that was really good stuff! Of course, if you were not brave enough or fast enough to go in people’s backyards then you would be left to have only the wild grapes that grew in the woods to eat. They were ok, but definitely not as sweet as those home grown!

We got an early childhood education on what it meant to live off the land; especially since we hardly ever had any money to go to the store. Oh, Oh, Oh I almost left out the best part of this story, which is the big, black, juicey, you guessed it, BLACKBERRIES! Oh yea man, blackberries. These were probably the most prized treats of the summer, and they didn’t cost anything, they grew wild. When blackberry season came in, it would be dog eat dog among us to see who could get the most. Shoot, many times my brothers and I would pick them and sell them to get some pocket change! They were really easy to sell because any adluts in the neighborhood would buy them. Sometimes the open air market at the corner of Carolina Ave. and Broad St. would buy all you had picked and resell them. But you had to have them washed and cleaned, along with throwing out the bad ones before the man at the store would buy them. I don’t remember how much money I got paid for them, but I do know that it was worth it. I think. Having a little bit of pocket change sometimes a few dollar bills from selling blackberries was terrific.

That was about the only way I could make any money then cause I was so little. I couldn’t go and cut grass for anyone to make money since I was so small. My brothers were growing up fast, faster than most kids in the neighborhood because they quickly learned that if they were to have anything, or buy anything for themselves they would have to hustle doing odd jobs to make some money. I guess a lot of the other kids didn’t have to pick blackberries, cause I never got any help from them. You’ve probably heard somewhere before that The early bird gets the worm. Another phrase like: First come first served;, or you have to make sacrifices in order to enjoy the fruits of your labor. Trust me, I learned the meaning of these phrases at a very young age 4-6 years old! You see, if I was going to have a good sucsessful day from picking a lot of blackberries, I had to get up early in the morning before my brothers did and beat them to the blackberry bushes. If I didn’t, they would beat me there and pick all the good ones and the ones easiest to reach before I got there. That wasn’t good. You got to remember, I had only one speed, slow! If I wanted to go any faster, BAM, all I had to do was drop to my hands and knees and crawl. This last method didn’t prove to be the best way because I couldn’t carry my container like that. We had two different types of blackberries growing in our neighborhood. One variety was the kind that grew close to the ground like in a briar patch. The other variety was the ones that grew up on a tall, supper thorny, tuff stalk. These were the perfered ones, because they produced the most blackberries along with being big and juicy. Boy oh boy, if you put some of those big ones in a bowl of cereal with some milk and sugar on top you really had something! The first variety were usually found growing along the side of the house or along a fence or on the ditch bank. Sometimes you could find them in a thicket or the like. The second variety could be found growing in the broomestraw fields. It actually competed with the broomestraw to grow tall so that it could get enough sunlight. These broomestraw fields were futher away from the house than the woods and ditch bank were, so it was a tough choice to make to decide which way to go for pickin. Picking blackberries was not an easy task to do, at least not for me. To start with, I was really short not even 3' tall yet and the broomestraw was way taller than me! I had to be careful walking down the paths. Usually