My Birth: My full name is James Robert Buchanon. At least that is what my birth certificate states. It also says that I was born in Bowling Green, Kentucky, on March 30, 1947. I don't remember any of those details, because it seems that I was born at a very early age.
I was the second of four boys born to James Donald and Charlene Buchanon. We lacked a lot in the financial department, but we hadn't been taught by the liberal media that we were supposed to feel sorry for ourselves. We were usually a pretty happy bunch of poor people.
Our First House: For the first few years of my life, we lived in a little two-bedroom house that Dad built himself. I was too young to have many memories of that period. I can just recall that we had red-clay bluffs out in the back field. I do, however, have a faint memory of something that took place one summer while we lived there The nurse from the county health department came out in the rural areas to give the children their immunizations. Now what kid in his right mind wants some woman to stick him with a needle? I did what I thought all sensible kids in those days would do; I went and hid in those red-clay bluffs. I could see the nurse's car in the driveway and could hear Mom yelling for us, but I stayed hidden until the nurse left. Little good that did me; Mom took me into town in a couple of days and I had to get that shot any way.
Entering Elementary School: I entered the first grade at Alvaton School. My classroom was a little white building off to the side of the high school. Our building contained the first and second grades. Another building housed the third and fourth grades. My first-grade teacher was Stacie Lamastus. I recall liking her as a teacher and liking school. My first cousin, David, was in my class, so we enjoyed competing with each other. I liked spelling, but he was always better in math than I was. I also had the gift of gab. I never seemed to have enough sense to be scared of people, of speaking or singing. I was asked to be in the annual Tom Thumb Wedding, a fund raiser for the PTA program. I was actually the groom and got married to Jennifer, a second-grader. By the time that play was over, I thought I was ready for Hollywood or Broadway.
Pledge of Allegiance: I lived during
several exciting periods in our country's history. One of those was when I was six years old
and
there was a major change in the pledge to the flag. I later went back and read
some history books to know about that significant day. The first "Pledge of
Allegiance" is traced back to Columbus Day on October 12, 1892. This was the
400th anniversary of the discovery of America. The United States had
recovered from most of the effects of its Civil War that began 30 years earlier,
and people from around the world were flocking to the "Land of Opportunity."
The previous year almost a half million immigrants had entered the United States
through the Barge Office in Battery Park, New York, and on New Years day of 1892
the new Federal Bureau of Receiving's station at Ellis Island had opened. Our
nation had 44 states at that time.
To this day it is still unknown who actually authored the words that were to become the Pledge of Allegiance. It was published anonymously and not copyrighted. James Upham was an employee of the Boston publishing firm that produced "The Youth's Companion" in which it first appeared. Francis Bellamy was an educator who served as chairman of the National Committee of Educators and Civic Leaders who were planning the Columbus Day activities. What we do know for certain is that the words first appeared in the September 8, 1892 issue of "The Youth's Companion," and a month later more than 12 million school children recited the words for the first time in schools across the nation. Our Pledge of Allegiance was born, but like anything new, it took many years to "reach maturity," and underwent several changes along the way. That first Pledge of Allegiance read: "I pledge allegiance to my Flag, and to the Republic for which it stands: one Nation indivisible, with Liberty and Justice for all."
After the Columbus Day celebration, the Pledge to the Flag became a popular daily routine in America's public schools, but gained little attention elsewhere for almost 25 years. Finally, on Flag Day (June 14, 1923), the Pledge received major attention from adults who had gathered for the first National Flag Conference in Washington, D.C. Here, their Conference agenda took note of the wording in the Pledge. There was concern that, with the number of immigrants now living in the United States, there might be some confusion when the words "My Flag" were recited. To correct this, the pledge was altered on June 14, 1923, to read: "I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States, and to the Republic for which it stands: one Nation indivisible, with Liberty and Justice for all."
The last change in the Pledge of Allegiance occurred on June 14 (Flag Day), 1954, when President Dwight D. Eisenhower approved adding the words "under God." As he authorized this change he said: "In this way, we are reaffirming the transcendence of religious faith in America's heritage and future; in this way, we shall constantly strengthen those spiritual weapons which forever will be our country's most powerful resource in peace and war."
This was the last change made to the Pledge of Allegiance. The 23 words that had been initially penned for a Columbus Day celebration now comprised a thirty-one word profession of loyalty and devotion to not only a flag, but to a way of life....the American ideal. Those words now read: "I pledge allegiance to the Flag of the United States of America, and to the Republic for which it stands: one Nation under God, indivisible, With Liberty and Justice for all. "
Moving in With Ma & Pa: My grandparents lived on the farm right next to the school. My grandfather, who we simply called Pa, had suffered a stroke several years earlier. That's what caused Dad to be discharged early from the Army. They gave him what was called a hardship discharge, since he was the only son and needed to take care of the farm. As Pa was getting older and weaker, Ma needed help in caring for him and asked if we could move in with them. The house was sort of a double unit. Dad was able to build another kitchen on the end of the house and we could divide the house into two living quarters. Ma & Pa lived in one end of the house, with their bedroom, a kitchen and a living room. We lived on the other end of the house, with one bedroom, a kitchen, and a third room that served as both a living room and a bedroom. We had to walk down the path to the outhouse when we needed to take care of nature.
I always enjoyed walking the fields of the farm, sitting down by the big pond, and climbing on the roof of the outhouse and sitting there all morning and eating ripe red cherries. That was about the only thing that I liked about that old outhouse. It always seemed so far away from the house, especially when you had to get up and walk down the path in the rain or snow. It was a mighty fancy outhouse, though. It was actually a double-seater. Now, for many years I used that old outhouse, but never do I recall anyone sitting on the seat next to me. I never could figure out why we had two seats, especially since there was no partition between the seats. I wouldn't want to be sitting there when someone else came in and sat down beside me to take care of their business. And then there was that day that the old rooster got into the back of the outhouse and moved underneath where I was sitting. I guess he could see my shiny cheeks from the underneath side and decided to peck them. I screamed and took off running out of that outhouse without even pulling up my pants. Everyone thought that was funny--except for me!
Ma fixed homemade biscuits every morning. If there were any left over, she would put them on a plate and we could have them for snacks at some point during the day. I always looked forward to getting one of those biscuits and then spreading butter on it and sprinkling brown sugar on top. I don't guess it was the healthiest thing one could eat, but it sure did taste good.
There were lots of old chestnut trees in the field near the pond. One day, I discovered something on one of the trees; it had a big heart with the initials in the center of the heart: "J.D.B. + C.F.W." I was able to figure out that these were Mom and Dad's initials (James Donald Buchanon and Charlene Faye Wheeler). I guess Dad was love struck on the day he carved those initials.
Fred Brown: Just a few miles from where we lived was the farm of Fred Brown. He's the guy that gave me the nickname of "Toby." I never did know how he came up with that nickname, but it stuck with me for several years. We used to go to his house every 2 or 3 months for a haircut. We didn't spend a lot of money on trying to look fancy like them city slickers. These were the days before electric clippers; he used a pair of barber scissors and a hand-operated pair of shears. It was easy for him to buzz my hair off, because Dad always told him to give me a burr. I walked out of his house with all of the hair buzzed away. That would do me for another 2 or 3 months.
On one of my trips to his house, I was being a bit nosy while Dad was getting his hair cut. I noticed Mr. Brown's eyeglasses on the table. I was amazed at how big they looked; big brown frames and a lens that was so thick that it looked like the bottom of a Coca-Cola bottle. I tried those glasses on and looked in the mirror. I sure looked funny. I was glad that I didn't wear glasses like those. Well, I satisfied my curiosity, but I later paid a price for that. In a few days, I woke up one morning and couldn't open my eyes. They were completely matted together. Mom had to take a cloth and hot water to wash away this stuff on my eyes. She explained that I had the pink eye. We later learned that Mr. Brown had been having this problem, so I contacted it through wearing his glasses.
Alvaton Store: Dad's cousin, Russell Sledge, owned and operated the Alvaton General Store. That was one popular spot in the community. You could go there to buy your chicken feed, dog food, groceries, or to eat lunch. The big sacks of chicken food came in colorful sacks. The women would use those sacks to make dresses for the little girls or shirts for the boys. I would often go to the store for Mrs. Massey, one of our neighbors. She would usually need some more chicken food, but she would always give me a small square of the cloth to show me what sack she wanted the chicken feed in. She needed one more sack to finish off a dress she was making.
The store would get very crowded during lunch. Most of the farmers would come out of the fields and go to the store for lunch. Russell & Mae would make you a sandwich on your choice of white bread or crackers. You could get bologna, cheese, ham, pickle & pimento, or any combination. In the summer, you could even add a slice of tomato. Some folks would also buy a can of pork and beans and open those up and eat them right out of the can. Of course, the big delicacy in those days was to have a bottle of Coca-Cola and a package of peanuts. The "proper" way to eat the peanuts was to pour it into the bottle of Coke. Most of the folks around Alvaton weren't gambling folks, but the men always enjoyed a little contest with their drinks of Coke. After everyone had reached into the ice chest to get their bottle of Coke, they would then look on the bottom of the bottle to see what city the bottle was from. The one with the bottle the nearest to Bowling Green had to pay for everyone else's Coke.
My Promise to Pa: I was seven years old when Pa started getting real weak. I never could understand why he would continue smoking his cigarettes, when he had so much trouble breathing. One day he called me over to the side of his wheelchair. He took hold of my hand and said, "Toby, I want you to make me a promise." Pa held on to my hand and said it the second time, "I want you to make me a promise." I asked, "What is it, Pa?" He then said, without turning lose of my hand, "I want you to promise me that you won't smoke a cigarette until you're 21 years old. Look at me; I've had a stroke and I'm dying with cancer. If you'll be smart enough to not smoke until you're 21, maybe you won't ever take up the habit. And if you keep that promise, I'll give you a gold pocket watch when you turn 21." Well, you know what, at seven years of age I wasn't really anxious to go out and suck on some burning weed, so I made him that promise. Pa died the next year, but I remembered that day next to his wheelchair and remembered that promise. In middle school and high school, when all of the other boys were sneaking out behind the school to have a smoke, I never once had the urge to do it. I had made a promise to Pa! I didn't know anyone else knew about that promise, but when I turned 21 years old Dad presented me with a pocket watch. That was probably the most expensive gift that Dad was ever able to give me, as far as material gifts go.
Pa's Death: There are several things I remember about Pa's death. They took his body into town and did the embalming, but then brought the corpse back to the house. They moved the body into the half of the house where we lived and put the casket right in front of the fireplace. Back in those days, the families and neighbors did what was called the "wake," where you sat with the corpse at all hours. I think it was a simple gesture, sort of as a way to show our final respect. I can remember getting really sleepy, but not wanting to go to bed. Mom and Dad kept telling me it was okay for me to go to bed, that I was just a little kid. For some reason, I felt that if I went to sleep then I wasn't showing my proper respect to Pa. Everyone else was staying awake all night, so why shouldn't I? Mom finally suggested that I just go and lay down for a few minutes. She said, "You don't have to go to sleep; just close your eyes for a few minutes and then you can get back up." I think she knew what would happen. I fell asleep. When I woke up, I felt guilty for having fallen asleep.
I can also remember the funeral. We took the corpse to the Mt. Union Church for the funeral. I sat on the right side aisle. The piano was just a few feet in front of me. The choir loft was to my right and up a few steps. As I sat there, listening to the piano music and later listening to the choir, I would keep looking up front at the casket. This was the end! Pa was gone! I kept crying and crying. I can recall looking up at the choir and there was one old woman that kept staring at me. I would look away from her for a minute. I'd look at the preacher, I'd look at the floor, I'd look at the stained windows, I'd look at the bouquets of flowers, but every time I looked back at her she'd still be staring at me. I wanted to scream out, "I hope you're getting your eyes full." I just wanted her to leave me alone. That's my Pa! He's gone! Why does she have to keep staring at me?
Moving Away: Not long after Pa died, Dad felt that he needed a job that would allow him to make a little more money to support the family. He accepted a job with the State Highway Department. The only down side of the job was that he had to live within the city limits. We moved away from Ma's house and moved into town. That takes me to the next chapter in my life.
