Jimmy and Willie

Jimmy and Willie are my parents names.
Married in September 1956. I guess they
loved each other at that time. Why else
would 2 people get married...yes, yes,
I know baby on the way but, that was not
the case. She was not pregnant when they
got married. My father Jimmy (James)
drank heavily before the marriage. This
continued after the marriage. I still
don't understand why she married him.
I did ask her that very question once and
her reply was I thought I could get him to
quit. Ok Mama was my reply.

Mama that's what we called my Mom. My 2
siblings and I...it was Mama.

Nine months after marriage my sister came
along. Mom got pregnant on their honeymoon.

My dad was in the navy. I do not remember
the details of why he got out of the navy.
After he was out he worked about 25 miles
from home at the "bleachery". He rode to work
with 2 other men. One day when either going or
coming while a front seat passenger and saw
they were about to wreck he braced his knees
on the dash. This impacted the rest of his
life. His knees forced his hips backwards,
crushing both hips. He would never be the
same again. Was told he may never walk or
work again.

This happened before I was born.

Surgery and a long hospitilization later...
he walked with crutches. Always those damn
crutches. As a result he drank and drank.
Unable to work....unheard of to get disability.
That took 2 years.

My Mom worked full time, took care of a baby
girl. I don't know if my brother was around
as yet. Took care of our house and all of
his needs. His bed was in our living room...
a hospital bed for quite some time.

I was born in 1960 at our closest hospital
about 20 miles from our home. Thankfully
the doctor that delivered me allowed people
to pay him in ways other than money.
Dr. Griggs was his name. I know that people
often gave him chickens, eggs and gosh knows
what else for medical services payment.

Doc Griggs was an honest man, a kind man and
a friend to all he cared for.

The first memory of my daddy, I believe I was
about five years old. He picked me up and put
my face under the kitchen sink, face up water on.
I remember hearing my Mama scream at him. Still to
this day I do not know WHY?? Other than he was drunk.
Why would a dad do this to his own child?

My Grandmother (dads Mom) died when I was 7 years old.
There were wonderful memories tied that sweet kind
woman, my Grandma Ethel. She lived next door to us.
Mama, Grandma Ethel me and my 2 siblings went
to our baptist church every Sunday. Grandma did not
drive. She rode with us to church to the grocery
store. Mama took her every where she need to go.
Her husband my Grandfather died before my
parents were married.

In may of 1967 Grandma Ethel died. Brain tumor.
I will never forget the Sunday morning we went
to pick her up for church and she came out dressed
in work clothes...a dress and bonnet with a hoe
in her hand. She was going to work in her flowers.
She did not know it was Sunday although Mama
talked with her the day before and said she would
pick her up the next morning for church.
I think all of our hearts sank that Sunday
morning. My sister Leigh talked about this
with me as an adult and she being older
remembered some other things Grandma had been
doing that was off kilter.

They found a brain tumor. When I don't know
or how long she lived after I don't remember.

I do remember than when she died my daddy may
as well have died with her. He made our life a
living hell after that. With his drinking it was not
wonderful anyway. Mama did the best she could.

It took me many years into my adult life to
fully realize just how abusive that man really
was. He beat my Mother, he beat all 3 of his
children. I don't mean spank....beatings and
always when he was sober with the exception
of the sink at 5 years old.

Christmas after Grandma died...Nonexistent.
Well ok it did exist. The first year after she
died at Christmas all 3 of us got a new pair
of PJ's and one hundred dollars each.
I was 8 years old...did not know what one
hundred dollars was let alone what to do with it.
Damn you man, I wanted toys. My very own toys.
Not ones that was handed down from siblings...
new toys to call my very own.

The only good thing I remember this man (daddy)
doing for me was having a pond built. That was
fantastic. The many hours I spent there were
better than heaven to me as a kid. It was
my escape, my out. Time alone with out him there...
no beatings just fishing...alone me myself and I.

More to come...just later....