In the City

Leaving Alvaton: Dad made the announcement that he had interviewed for a new job and had been offered the position, working with the Kentucky State Highway Department. This would provide the family with good medical insurance and provide him a better salary. The only down side to the job was that we had to move into town in order to get to work faster. We moved into the city about half way through my third year of elementary school.

Third Grade Teacher: I don't know if I had ever thought I was in love with one of those little girls in the first or second grade or not, but I knew I had fallen in love shortly after moving into the city. The only problem was that I'd fallen in love with my teacher. You see, there was this age barrier, so I decided that I had better never mention my crush on her to anyone. I just sat back and enjoyed looking at her every day. She was tall, slim, always wearing such a pretty dress, and with just enough red lipstick to make her mouth look beautiful. I thought the only way I could impress her was to become the best student in the class. I got picked on a lot and some called me "Teacher's Pet," but I didn't mind. I was just trying to make Miss White happy.

Elvis Presley: I was only in the third grade when Elvis Presley made his big TV appearance on the Ed Sullivan Show in September 1956. I didn't know a lot about Elvis or Ed Sullivan, but I heard a lot of the older folks talking about it for over a week. Mr. Sullivan had said that he would never allow the wiggling and shaking Elvis to appear on his show. Elvis was on a couple of other shows, so Sullivan needed the rating boost and booked Elvis for three different appearances. Folks laughed at the idea that the camera pulled in so that the television audience could only see him from the waist up. The TV network did not want to show his pelvic movements.

Upset Stomach: I remember the summer between grades three and four. It had been a hot summer, so I normally only wore a pair of shorts. I never wore a shirt and never wore shoes throughout the whole summer. In those days, we never heard of a sun blocker. We were tough! My feet would become so tough during the summer that I could run as fast in gravel as the kids who were wearing shoes.

I would often walk across the street and help myself to the fresh mulberries on the trees at Miss Cora's house. Well, on Sunday afternoon I started having a tummy ache. I complained about how bad it hurt, but Mom and Dad just dismissed it with, "You probably ate too many mulberries." I tried to take a nap under the shade tree in the side of our yard, but I couldn't get in a comfortable position. I'd toss and turn and the pain seemed to be getting worse. I went inside to complain to Mom again. She finally decided to give me a dose of Pepto-Bismol and told me to try to take a nap again. I went back outside and lay on the quilt under the tree. I finally did get comfortable enough to fall asleep. I was hoping that I'd be better when I woke up. That didn't happen! When I woke up, I couldn't stand up. My body was experiencing something that it had never experienced before. I was in major pain; I was bent over in pain. I started crying. Mom and Dad tried to calm me down, but when they touched my stomach I screamed out in pain. They decided to take me to the emergency room at the hospital.

The doctor examined me and explained that my appendix was ready to rupture and he needed to do a late-night surgery. He took Mom and Dad into a private room and talked with them for several minutes. He then came into the room, alone, and said he wanted to talk with me. He explained that there was poison in my body, caused from the sick appendix. He said he was going to do surgery, but something could go wrong. He looked at me and said, "You're going to be brave, aren't you? Is there anything you want to talk about?" I said, "No, I just want the pain to go away." He then looked at me and asked, "Robert, are you afraid of dying?" I immediately thought, "Why are you asking me if I'm afraid of dying? Are you planning on killing me?" He tried to explain to me how the surgery was going to be done, where the incision was going to be made, and how big it would be. Now, friends, I was only 8 years old and I didn't have dying on my schedule for that year. Why, I had never even kissed a girl! I've got lots of things yet to do in life.

Well, I survived the surgery, but I had a long scar (with 12 stitches) to tell my classmates about when we started school. I think our English teachers required us ever year to write a paper on what we did during our summer break. I had an amazing story to tell: I almost died!!!

Grades 4-5-6: Some how or another, I wound up with the same teacher for three years in a row. Normally, the students advance and the teacher stays with the same age group, but they decided to do things a little different when I was in elementary school. They decided to advance the teacher with the students. A lot of the students didn't like Mrs. Kirby, but I was fond of her. Her husband owned the Kirby Record Shop in town. As I look back on it, I'm sure she probably wasn't suppose to do what she did, but I was glad that she offered to sell us used 45 r.p.m. records. Her husband took these out of the jukeboxes and sold them as used records. I would save up some of my money and try to buy one record every couple of months.

Adding Two More States: Exciting things happened in our country while I was in grades 5 & 6. On January 3, 1959, Alaska became the 49th state. Our flag was changed to have seven rows of seven stars on each row, but that created a small problem. The blue box in our flag was never supposed to be a perfect square. They solved that problem by having each row staggered horizontally and vertically. On August 21, 1959, Hawaii was added as the 50th state. Our flag was once again revised. An Executive Order of President Eisenhower provided for the arrangement of the stars in nine rows of stars staggered horizontally and eleven rows of stars staggered vertically.

Recycling Comics: I enjoyed reading comics. Now I lived  in the days when funny books were supposed to be funny. I enjoyed Tom & Jerry, Archie and the Gang, Little Richie, Donald Duck & Uncle Scrooge, and Huey, Duey, and Louie. I also stuck around long enough to get into the super heroes: Superman, Superwoman, Superboy, Spider Man, Bat Man, Rubber Man, etc. I didn't have much money to buy many comics, so I'd often read them over and over again. I finally decided that there must be a way to get more comics without having to spend any money. I asked around to see if there were others who liked reading comics. I needed something to do during the summer months. I got the names of about 7 or 8 students. We then set up a schedule for when we could trade our old comics. I would hop on my bicycle each Saturday morning and take off to some trader's house. I'd spend all week reading those and then go to a different house the following Saturday morning. You would have thought we were exchanging stocks on Wall Street; we were serious about our business. We would trade one-for-one, unless someone had a first edition of some series. That one took two-for-one. I decided to start sticking these first editions in a special box and wouldn't trade them off. I thought, "These might be worth something in the future." I eventually accumulated a pretty good collection of what I thought would be very collectible comics.

Butler Avenue Houses: When we first moved into town, our address was 400 Butler Avenue. We didn't have any money to buy a house, so we just agreed to rent. It was a tiny little house, but I suppose it met our needs at the time. When the owner of the house decided that he was going to sell the house, we weren't for sure where we were going to move. It just so happened that a developer had finished a house just two houses down from where we were living. We were able to make a deal with him and move into that house. The rent was a little higher, but the house was a little bigger. One extra nice thing was that we didn't have to get a truck to move us. We were just able to walk from one house right over to the other one.

Is "Boy" Really Your Name? When the new family moved into the house we had just vacated, I was really excited to see that they had a boy about my age. I went over to meet him shortly after they moved in. I said, "Hi, my name is Robert. What's your name?" He answered simply, "Boy." I said, "No, what is your name?" He again said, "Boy." By this time I'm thinking he must have been watching too many Tarzan movies: "Me Tarzan, you Boy." I eventually learned that his true name was LaVoy, but his Dad called him Boy. That's all that anyone knew him by. He even used that name in school.

Boy and I became pretty good friends. His parents had divorced. He was living with his father and step-mother. He told me that he would spend the summer with his mother in Lexington. Now that sounded like somewhere on the other side of the world to me. Well, it was on the other side of the state, about five hours away. I had never done any traveling, so it really sounded exciting to be able to go to a big city like that. As we were approaching the summer break at school, he asked if I wanted to go with him to Lexington for a few weeks. I told him I didn't have any money and couldn't afford to do something like that. He said I wouldn't need any money; he said I'd just be staying with him at his Mom's house. I asked my parents for permission and they said it would be okay.

I can remember sending Mom and Dad a postcard to tell them how beautiful Lexington was. Yes, I thought I was on the other side of the world. After a few weeks of being with them, Boy's Mom said there was going to be a big revival at church and she wanted us to go, but she noticed that I didn't have any "church" shoes. I was wearing an old pair of sneakers with holes big enough for my toes to stick through. She asked if I thought my parents could buy me some new shoes. That really concerned me. I didn't know whether Dad would have the money for that or not. She just didn't realize how poor my family was. I didn't want to be a burden on Dad. He was kind enough to allow me to make this trip and I told him that it wasn't going to cost me anything. I was nervous about writing him a letter (those were the days before text messaging or e-mails and long-distance phone calls were too expensive for me). I asked if he thought he could buy me some new shoes, even a second-hand pair. Well, he made the sacrifice and bought me a new pair of shoes. He wrapped the box and mailed them to me. I felt guilty, but I sure did feel all dressed up with those new shoes.

Our Third Move on Butler: After a couple of years, the guy that owned this second house decided he wanted to raise the rent we were paying on the house. Dad said we couldn't afford to pay a higher rent. He said we would have to move again. It couldn't have worked out any better when we learned that the family next door to us was moving to Louisville. They lived in the house between where we used to live and where we were currently living. We just agreed to move right next door.

Learning about Girls: We had a wide variety of neighbors on Butler Avenue.  Two families were Catholics and we didn't know a whole lot about Catholics. Baptist folks just sort of looked at them like they were weird. We always wondered why they wouldn't eat meat on Fridays. One family was Pentecostal. The woman wouldn't wear any make-up and didn't believe in cutting her hair. We were told that she thought she could speak in some unknown tongues, too. Two old widow ladies lived right across the street from us. They were sisters and, even though they were very old, they could still get into some pretty big arguments. Miss Cora, as we called her, always had some wild story to tell us. I'd always make fun of her; she would sit on the front porch and smoke a pipe. There was another family just a few houses down the street from where we lived that had one boy and two girls. Bill was a few years older than me, but we became pretty good friends. I'd walk down the street to occasionally trade comic books with him. His mother would usually give me a piece of cake. I agreed to help Bill with some of his chores one afternoon and this is when I got a lesson on some of the differences between boys and girls. I didn't have any sisters, so there were many things that I didn't know at that time. I got a lesson that day that I'll never forget! Bill and I went to the back of the yard to burn some of the trash. When he emptied the three trash cans from the house, there were some strange looking pads that fell into the trash pile. It looked like they were covered with blood. I moved the trash around for a closer look. I asked Bill, "Did someone cut themselves? Why is there so much blood on this thing?" He ordered me to immediately leave it alone. That's when I got a quick speech on the birds and the bees and one of the differences between boys and girls. I got more than I had bargained for that day.

Double Session in School: Things got a little complicated as I entered the sixth grade. Our schools had become too crowded. We had more students than we had seats, so the school board decided to solve the problem by offering a double session. One set of students would attend classes from 6:00 a.m. to noon and the second set of students would attend classes from noon until 6:00 p.m.

For the sixth grade, I was in the morning session. It didn't take me long to figure out that I didn't like getting up at 5:00, eating breakfast, and getting dressed for school. For the seventh grade, I switched to the afternoon session. That allowed me to sleep in later during the morning, but I didn't get home from school until supper time. It was really an awful system, but the overcrowded conditions of the schools and the lack of money for new schools forced the school board to implement that program for a couple of years.

Snow Storms: Dad did many different things in his job for the State Highway Department. He was sometimes mowing the grass beside the highway, sometimes he was building picnic tables or barbecue grills for the rest areas, and in the winter time he was spreading salt on the highways as the snow was arriving. He always loved to know that big snow storms were coming. That meant that he could work overtime and get extra money. It seems that we always struggled to make ends meet. We seemed to never have any extra money and sometimes didn't seem to have even enough money to pay the rent, the utilities, and buy enough food. The extra hours of work at night meant extra money on the paycheck.

Starting My Businesses: I was starting to get tired of being so poor, so I decided I was going to learn how to make my own money. Dad always had too much month left at the end of the money. He never was able to give us any allowance, so I never had any spending money. I decided I'd create my own business. I filled out a coupon in a magazine and mailed it in to the Grit Printing Company. I was approved as a paper boy and started selling Grit Magazines door to door every Saturday morning. The company would send me the magazines on credit. I'd sell them, keep my profit, and send them the balance. I just knew I was going to get rich. I was feeling so good about having money in my pocket, that I decided to find some other businesses. Well, one led to another and then to another and then to another. I started selling greeting cards, then candles, then pink petroleum jelly, and eventually set up a stand, where I sold bubble gum, candy bars, and Kool-Aid.

I guess I tried to expand my Buchanon Business Enterprises by opening up a satellite store in my locker at school. I can remember that candy bars sold in the grocery store for five cents each or six for a quarter. I'd usually buy a dollar's worth and take them to my locker. During the break between classes, I'd sell my candy bars for ten cents each. I just knew that I was eventually going to get rich this way. This went well for several months and then I got busted. Some one told the teacher and I was told that I couldn't operate a business during school hours. Oh, well, it was nice while it lasted. I had made some pretty good money this way.

By the time I was in the seventh grade, I also offered my services as a baby sitter or to sit with anyone in the hospital. One of our neighbor families were Catholics and the parents went to early mass. They didn't want to get the kids up that early, so they hired me to come to the house and let the kids stay in bed while the parents were at mass. Boy, I thought that was easy money. They were asleep when I arrived and I just had to give them a bowl of cereal when they finally woke up. I also started sitting with older people in the hospital. About all I had to do was give them a drink of water when they were thirsty, occasionally fluff their pillow, and mainly to just let them know that someone was in the room with them. The hard part, though, was occasionally sitting with someone who was dying. By the time I reached my early teen years, I had already watched several people die. That really caused me to think more about my life and my future.

Saturday in Town: I would walk to the shopping area of downtown Bowling Green almost every Saturday. I had a bicycle, but I couldn't ride it downtown, because there would be no place to leave the bike while I walked around to all of the stores. I seldom spent any money, but I looked forward to going in and out of all of the shops every Saturday. I'd usually do my Grit paper route or, on some Saturdays, sell my candles or greeting cards. After walking to all of the stores downtown, I did usually break down and buy myself a treat toward the end of the day. I sometimes went to F. W. Woolworth's at the top of Park Row and indulge myself in a banana split. I always told them to hold the chocolate, but to give me extra strawberry syrup. I would then sometimes go to the drug store at the bottom of Park Row and get a glass of orangeade. I don't know of many places that even serve orangeade today.

I could have told you all of the sales going on in all of the shops downtown. I would go up and down all of the aisles at Woolworth's. I'd check out all of the model planes and cars. I'd then walk by the candy aisle and would eventually stand in front of the aquariums and look at all of the pretty tropical fish. I said, "Some day I'm going to buy me an aquarium."

I'd leave Woolworth's and then go to the National Store, then the Charles Store, then Durbin's, then Pushin's, and eventually wind up at Golden Farley's Men's Store. I always brushed off my shoes before I'd go into Golden Farley's; I just thought this place needed a little extra respect. I considered this store to just be for the rich men in town. The salesman would always come up and ask, "May I help you?" I'd reply, "No, I'm just looking." I'd go into that store nearly every time I went to town. I'd look at all of the fancy shirts, the neckties, the sports jackets, the suits, the sweaters, and even the socks. Those rich-people's clothes had a different feel than what I was wearing. I said, "Some day I'm going to buy me a suit from this place."

Uncle Donnie's Money: I always had mixed emotions when Uncle Donnie came to visit us. I always thought of him as being such a rich guy and wondered if he looked down on us for being so poor. He would always buy candy from me, which made me happy. He'd also pay me for a glass of Kool-Aid but he never did drink it. Oh, well, I got my money so I was happy. The big thing that disturbed me was how he treated us like we were circus animals. He'd get two or three of the neighbor kids to come over to our yard and he'd throw quarters up in the air. He'd encourage us to jump, push, shove, and fight for them. The rougher we were, the more he seemed to like it. I would usually get carried away with the moment and I'd push, shove and shout and try to get as many of the quarters as I could. I was always thrilled to stick the money in my pocket, but later in the day I would think about what I had just done and I'd feel cheap. I remember thinking that I wanted money, but I wanted to earn it by honest labor. I didn't want to get money by feeling like a freak show!

Spending Time With Cousin David: Since I went to Warren County School, we would often get a few days of break from classes when the teachers would have special training . I'd try to use some of those days to go back to Alvaton and spend some time with my cousin, David, and attend classes with him at Alvaton School. It was always good to see the folks that I had been in class with during those first years of elementary school.

It was always fun to spend a few nights with the Sears family. Breakfast was always a riot. Aunt Jenny always wanted Cousins Billy, David and Albert to drink their milk. They didn't like milk, but I loved it. I didn't get milk as often as I would have liked, simply because it was expensive. They'd wait until I had finished drinking my glass of milk and then one of them would trade glasses with me. Why, I'd knock out four glasses of milk at every breakfast.

Aunt Jenny also wanted them to be dressed up for church every Sunday. David and Billy fussed and fussed about having to put on a starched white shirt and tie. I was wishing I had a white shirt and tie. I kept trying to convince myself, "Someday I'll be able to dress up with nice things, too." It was little things like this that often reminded me of how poor we were.

Double Names: Some people just used one of their names. It was easy to say Frank, Wayne, Nancy, David, Bobby, Billy, Patricia, Saundra, Sidney, Gary, or Gail. But some of my cousins used both of their names and it just didn't sound right trying to use one name. You just had to say Mary Alice; it didn't sound right to call her Mary. The same was true with Carol Ann and William Henry.

Christmas Traditions: Every Christmas Eve, we would go to Ma's house for a Christmas dinner. I liked all of the food, but I especially looked forward to all of the nice desserts. Aunt Dorothy and her family would always come in from Owensboro. I was always anxious to see her pretty packages. She always used such pretty papers and fancy bows. I sometimes thought she spent more on her packaging than we spent on the gifts. I thought the way she coordinated the papers and ribbons was so pretty; it just made the gifts that much more special. I remember thinking, "When I get old, that's the way I want to do my packages."

Mom and Dad started a tradition that was different. When we would get home from Ma's house, we would discover that our presents from Santa were already there. For many years, I couldn't understand why we got our gifts on Christmas Eve and all of my cousins never got theirs until Christmas morning.

One of the hardest things about Christmas was often seeing the sadness in Dad's eyes and listening to him explain that we didn't have much money that year, so he couldn't get Santa to bring many gifts. I would always try to act excited to get a bag of oranges or a box of peppermint. One year, I got a world globe. I kept that close to my bed and would spin it around and around and reach out and stick my finger on it to stop it. I'd look to see what country I had touched and then dream of what it would be like to visit that place some day.

I always enjoyed going to Aunt Jenny's house before Christmas. Their house had a ten-foot ceiling. Every year, Uncle Bob would go to the fields and cut down the tallest cedar tree he could find. I thought Aunt Jenny must have a thousand different ornaments to fill such a big tree. I always thought of Uncle Bob as being rich. With seven children in the house, Aunt Jenny had lots of packages to wrap. She must have bought all of them at least a dozen presents each. I've never seen so many packages underneath one tree.

Mom Took A Job: In order to help with the finances, Mom took a job at Riley's Bakery. I always loved to walk into that place; the smell of fresh bread, donuts and pastries would make your mouth water. If they were real busy, Mom would ask me to come behind the counter and use the big machine to slice the bread. I really felt special doing that job. At the end of the day, Mr. Riley would sometimes let the employees take home some of the donuts that didn't sell that day; he didn't want "left-overs" in the cabinets for the next day.

Interested In Religion: At a rather young age, I became quite interested in God, the Bible, and religion. Mom and Dad would only occasionally go to church, but I had an urge to go every week. For a long time, I walked a couple of blocks to the Church of God. I really got involved in Sunday School. The teacher encouraged all of us to have a memory verse every week. She explained that she would start marking down how many verse we recited. The person who memorized the most verses in the quarter would win a prize. I was determined to win that prize. I didn't know what it was, but I still wanted to win it. I think I wanted the "victory" of being number one more than I wanted the prize. At the end of the quarter, I was brought before the church and given a little bronze horse. That wasn't so important; I was given the title of being the "Church of God Youth King." Wow, I really impressed myself!

I don't recall why I made the shift, but later I started riding the church-operated bus every Sunday to Andrew Baptist Mission. This was a little congregation that was started as a mission of the First Baptist Church. This was way on the other side of town, so I had fun visiting with the young people on the bus as we went to and from the church. I joined Royal Ambassadors, which was a Baptist youth group. I was given the opportunity to "preach" a ten-minute sermon and really enjoyed the challenge.

One lady at the church seemed to take a special interest in me. I guess she had been told how poor we were, so she offered to pay the expenses for me to go to summer camp at Camp Joy in Brownsville. I had a great time. We had Bible classes every day, but were also able to swim, learn archery, go hiking, and lots more fun things. I wrote her a letter from camp to tell her "Thank you," and asked one of the counselors if they would mail the card for me.

I later made another shift and started going to church with the Turner family, who lived next door to us. They were going to a Pentecostal church. For the first few services, I really thought things were weird. They were screaming, dancing in the aisles, and taking turns talking about something that they called their "testimony." I really didn't understand all of this and didn't get much sense out of it, but was told that if I loved the Lord that I needed to let Him into my heart and I'd be able to speak in a tongue. Well, I became one of the biggest imposters in town. I "learned" to speak in a tongue. I could dance around in the aisles, give some kind of mumbo-jumbo and folks thought I had received the Holy Spirit. All of this hypocrisy (not just in me but in most of the other folks, too) really had a bearing on my spiritual development. I didn't know that at the time, but I reflected on those days later in life. I'll have more to say about that in a later chapter.

Murray's Restaurant: When I turned fourteen, I was offered a job at the restaurant where my uncle worked as the grill man. My older brother, Frank, was also working here. I would be what was called a "curb hop." The families would eat their meal in their car. I'd go to the car and take their order. I'd take the order to the window, wait for it to be prepared, and then take the food to their car. I always tried to be friendly and hoped for a small tip from each family. Every nickel, dime or quarter helped out. The restaurant was famous for their little hamburgers, fifteen cents for one or two for a quarter. It was hard to hold down this job and go to school at the same time. The restaurant didn't close until 10:00 p.m., so it was always late before I would get to bed. On Friday nights, I would work until midnight. On Saturdays, I would work from 10:00 a.m. to 6:00 p.m. On Saturdays, I normally ate my supper at the restaurant and then went to a movie. I probably saw about every movie that was released for about two years. I'd take a taxi for home late in the evening. As I look back on it now, I would say that I was very independent at an early age. Mom and Dad never really kept up with me; they didn't know where I was, who I was with, or what I was doing. I got up when I wanted to get up. I went to work and then came home when I wanted to come home. I lived an independence like I certainly wouldn't want my children or grandchildren to live.

Making Friends With The Policemen: When I would close the restaurant on Friday evenings, it would usually take another hour to do the cleaning. I had to wash all of the dishes, sweep and mop the floors, clean the counters, and empty the big coffee urn. I would always put the left-over coffee into a gallon glass jar and take it to the police station when I left the restaurant. I became good friends with several of the city policemen. They always seemed to look forward to my coming. I'd sit around and visit with them for an hour or two. They acted like they enjoyed having someone to talk with and to keep them awake during that "graveyard" shift. I found their work interesting and often even humorous. I would watch the policeman bringing in some drunk or trying to solve a quarrel between some husband and wife. It was serious work to them, but it was entertaining to me.

Establishing Bank Credit: I had been in classes with Linda for the past three years. When I learned that her Dad was the vice-president of the bank, I asked her, "Do you think he would give me a bank loan?" She said, "I doubt it, you're too young." Well, I wasn't going to allow her negativism to distract me. I put on the best dress shirt that I had and walked right into the bank one day and told the receptionist, "I'd like to see Mr. Hamilton." When I finally sat across from him in his big fancy office, I confidently said, "I'd like to borrow one hundred dollars for three months." He looked across his big desk and explained that he couldn't loan me money without having someone to sign for me as surety. I swallowed hard and said, "No, sir, I want to do this on my own. I work hard. I save my money and I want to establish my own credit." He asked what I was going to do with the money. He asked, "What are you wanting to buy?" I explained that I wasn't even going to spend it. I just wanted to borrow the money for three months. I'd put it in the bank and pay the loan back, with the interest, at the end of the three months. I told him I only wanted to establish a name for myself for having good credit. He tried to explain to me again that he couldn't make a loan without someone to guarantee payment in the event that I didn't make payment. I knew that he meant business, but I did do! Mom and Dad didn't have good credit; they were never prompt in making their payments. I wanted to convince myself that I could be responsible. Well, I must have said something right or done something right. Mr. Hamilton looked at me and said, "I may be crazy doing this, but I'm going to make you the loan." He had his secretary to cut a check for $100. I walked downstairs from his office and deposited the check into my newly-opened bank account. Yes, the money sat in that account for three months and then I paid the loan back. I was happy to feel that I now had a good credit rating. I've carried that principle with me throughout the rest of my life.

A Thief In My Room: I was thrilled to have my job at the restaurant and to be earning good tips. I got paid every Friday night. I would cash my check, put part of the money in my bank account and keep some in my wallet in case I needed some spending money. On many nights during the summer I would work the late shift, so I didn't get home until midnight or even later. I'd be so tired that I'd simply drop my pants beside the bed. I can recall one morning when I was trying to "sleep in" and heard a noise in my room. When I opened my eyes, I saw that it was Mom in my room. I saw her, but she didn't see me. I closed my eyes again and pretended to remain asleep, but I opened my eyes just wide enough to see what was going on. Mom was taking my wallet out of my pants. I didn't make a move or a sound; I let her do whatever it was she was doing. When she left the room and I checked my wallet, I found a note from her. It said, "I took $20 out of your wallet and will pay you back later." The first time I got one of these notes didn't bother me so much, but I started getting them nearly every week. She never paid back any of the money. Eventually she quit even putting the notes in my wallet; she'd just take the money. I felt I was being robbed, but what's a guy to do: report his Mom to the police as a thief? My gut feeling was to hide the money and never give her the chance to steal from me again, but I was never able to bring myself to do that. It was a feeling that I grew to hate, feeling that I couldn't trust my own mother.

Visits from Ma: It was always nice when Ma would come and stay with us for a few days. I knew she must get lonesome in that big house all by herself. Dad would make fun of her by saying, "I think her middle name is GO. You can call her up and say, 'Do you want to go to...' and she'd say, 'YES' before you were able to finish the question and tell her where you were going."

I always enjoyed sitting and talking with Ma. She seemed so happy that I read my Bible every night before going to bed. I told her that I had already read all the way from Genesis to Revelation . Ma was a member of the Primitive Baptist. I would often ask her questions about some of their practices, like foot-washing and Saturday night communion. She never did like for me to ask, "Where does the Bible say we should do that?" but those were important questions to me.

One of the things that always amused me was Ma's fascination with one of the soap operas, As the World Turns. It came on Monday thru Friday at 12:30. If we were planning to go somewhere while Ma was visiting with us, there were certain rules: we either had to make sure we were back home by 12:30, we didn't leave until after the program ended at 1:00, or we had to be downtown so she could walk to the Sears Department Store and watch her program on the display TV. I can remember walking into her house one day when she was talking on the phone. I could tell that she was crying. She was talking about someone being in the hospital, someone had divorced, someone had been a car accident, and someone else had died. I thought my whole family was in trouble, only to later learn that she was talking about her soap opera.

Kentucky Democrats: For many years, Kentucky was known as a Democratic State. Few people really understand the two-party system. It was practically impossible to find anyone who even claimed to be a Republican. All of the elections for county offices (county court clerk, sheriff, jailer, coroner, etc.) were handled in a Democratic primary.

Since Dad worked for the State, he would often come home from work and complain that he had received another "slip" in his paycheck this week. What that meant was that he had been informed that $25 was deducted from his paycheck as a "donation " for the upcoming election. The State workers had no choice in the matter; they were forced to make these donations. For a family that was barely scraping by to buy food, this donation was a real burden on us.

The big kicker for me was when Dad came home and told us he had been fired. All of us wanted to know why. His boss told him, "We're going to let you go because your brother has been campaigning for the wrong party." Now the weird part of this was that Dad didn't even have a brother! This really opened my eyes to the corruption within the political scene. It also caused me to view Democrats in a completely different light.

Working At The Restaurant: Dad talked to Uncle Donnie about the possibility of working at the restaurant. By this time, almost every relative we had was working there. Uncle Donnie was the day grill man, Uncle David was the evening grill man, big brother Frank was working on the counter, and I was working curb hop. Dad started working as the maintenance man and dish washer. I could tell that he hated this job, but it was at least giving him a small salary.

Service Station: Dad later took another job working at the Shell Service Station. He would work the shift from 6:00 p.m. to 6:00 a.m. I didn't get to see him as often as I wanted, so I asked for a job at the service station, too. I'd only work one night a week. I was able to make a little extra money, but I was able to spend more time with Dad.

Playing Rook: We never seemed to have a lot of "spare" time, but when we did Mom and Dad loved to get with some families to play a game of Rook. It was an inexpensive night of wholesome entertainment. We seemed to have a rotation; one time it would be at our house, the next time it would at the King's house, and the next time at the Duncan's house. The kids would run around the neighborhood and play games, while the adults were inside playing Rook.

Beach Bend Park: Mom took a week-end job working at a concession stand at the amusement park. Looking for another way to make another dollar, I asked if I could work there a few days of the week, too. I got a job on the microphone for the game called Skeeball. I'd try to lure people into the building to play the game. My voice could be heard all over the park, "Come on in and play Skeeball. This is the game they are all talking about. Come in and roll the balls, light the lights and win the prizes." I actually had fun acting silly on the microphone.

I met a lot of nice people at Beach Bend. Mr. Garvin was a nice man to work for. Entrance to the park was only ten cents. He kept his original ferris wheel in operation and only charged ten cents to ride it. The park had a swimming pool, a small zoo, a skating rink, a dance hall, and several rides. The most famous ride was the Wild Mouse, a large wooden roller coaster.

On Sunday, for one hour, the park would shut down and folks were invited to go to the skating rink for a church service. The old preacher's name was B. G. Hope. He was the preacher from the Twelfth Street Church of Christ. Little did I know at our first meeting that I would some day become a member of that church and later ask him to preach my wedding.

Three Aquariums: From those early days in elementary school, when I would stand in front of the aquariums at Woolworth Department Store and admire the beautiful tropical fish, I seemed to always tell myself, "Some day you can own one of those." Well, I finally saved enough money to buy my first aquarium, then my second, and then my third. I don't know who enjoyed the fish the most, me or Dad. He would sit for an hour or two at a time and just watch the fish swimming around. I decorated the aquariums with live plants, pretty colored rocks, and a filtering system on the bottom of the tank that looked like a sunken boat.

Grade 9 in High School: I continued working at the restaurant and tried to go to school at the same time. During my freshman year, I had a civics class with most of the basketball players. The teacher was the coach. I knew him well, because he brought his family to the restaurant for hamburgers every Thursday night. I pretty much knew what they were going to order as soon as they pulled into the lot.

My grades were average, but I wish I had done better. As I look back on it, I seldom ever took a book home to study. I mainly learned from the lectures and retained enough to pass all of the tests. Mom and Dad had not graduated from high school, so they never put much emphasis on my education. I don't ever recall them asking me about any of my classes, asking me about homework, or asking me about test scores. I finally quit even showing them my report cards; I'd just forge their name on the back of the card and return it to the teacher.

Something happened while I was in the ninth grade. Big brother Frank had an argument with the school principal, so he decided that he would just quit school. I couldn't figure out why he didn't want to at least get a high school diploma, but it didn't seem important to him and Mom & Dad didn't seem to care one way or the other. I made up my mind right then that not only was I going to get a high school diploma, but I was also going to college. I didn't know how I would finance it, but I'd just have to cross that bridge when the time came.

Moving To The Farm: Dad just couldn't seem to make ends meet with his small jobs. He said he had to do something better and try to make more money. He saw an ad in the newspaper: "Wanted - tenant farmer. Free housing provided with salary." Well, he called that number and talked to the landlord and agreed to move to the farm. That takes me to the next chapter in the book of my life.