Auszug. © Genehmigter Nachdruck. Alle Rechte vorbehalten.

Healing Point of View

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Contents

Acknowledgments.........................................................................viiIntentions of Book......................................................................xiPrologue................................................................................xiiiMy Paternal Grandparents - Eugene and Ida Stuckey Burkhart..............................1My Maternal Grandparents - Daniel Abraham and Rachel Rinaca Frazier.....................9My Parents - Newton and Venusta Burkhart................................................19Mom and Dad's Relationship..............................................................39My Life: Birth through Sixth Grade......................................................43Seventh through Twelfth Grade...........................................................53Births of My Children...................................................................63Bolivar, West Virginia - the First Ten Years............................................71College 1981 through May 1984...........................................................81June 1984 through August 1989...........................................................87September 1989 through August 1991......................................................99September 1991 through March 1993.......................................................105March 1993 through May 23, 1999.........................................................109Aftermath of May 23, 1999 through 2000..................................................1252001....................................................................................1412002....................................................................................1512003....................................................................................1552004....................................................................................1652005....................................................................................1792006....................................................................................183Jesse...................................................................................191After Jesse and I Met...................................................................1972007....................................................................................205Jesse's Passing.........................................................................209Jesse's Message to Me, Eulogy and Viewing...............................................217The Rest of 2007........................................................................2232008....................................................................................227Closing.................................................................................239Appendix................................................................................247Partial List of Books I Have Read.......................................................249Center of Gratitude.....................................................................253Pathway of Peace........................................................................257

Chapter One

Granddaddy Eugene Burkhart

Since my father died in 1987, I interviewed his siblings to find out about his parents and childhood. My Aunt Alvernon arranged for me to speak to my Aunt Margaret, Aunt Carrie, Aunt Daisy, and Uncle Buck, my father's only living sisters and brother. Aunt Margaret told me that she had wished that she had asked her parents about their childhood, especially since she had a stroke and has lost parts of her memory.

I only saw my dad's parents once a year during the summer when we were not in school. Once in awhile they might come to see us. Granddaddy Burkhart reminded me of John Wayne. He was a tall and handsome man who was always kind and friendly to me and would try to get me to talk with him.

My aunts and uncle told me that he was a very humble man who owned two sawmills where all the children worked at as soon as they could shovel sawdust. One sawmill burned to the ground in 1936, and Aunt Daisy and Grandma poured water on the house so it wouldn't burn down, while the younger children were escorted to the middle of a big field.

Uncle Buck was the youngest and he said, "He always seemed to get along pretty good with most everybody, but of course when you worked with him that was different. I didn't work much with him other than on the farm."

He continued, "He was somebody that would instruct you what to do and he wanted you to do it. Like pitching hay on a wagon. If you didn't pitch it up that way, he would throw it back at you. I saw him do it many times. Make hay then pile it. Then you pick it up and set it on the wagon. You don't throw it up on the wagon. You set it up on the wagon."

Aunt Carrie remembered that, "He was mean to the boys."

Uncle Buck said, "If Dad had something in his hand when you disobeyed him, then he would use it on you."

As Uncle Buck recalled a time when his older brother did not listen to their dad, who happened to have a crowbar in his hand and used it against his brother's back, you could see the pain on his face and the grimaces and shame on the bent heads of my aunts, who were all shaking their heads in agreement.

I am sure there was an expression of pain on my own face when I heard this story, and I felt the energy of the meeting shift way down. I wanted to bring the energy back up, but I didn't know what to say.

What is your own, personal reaction to this story? When one person suffers, we all suffer because we are all connected.

This story reminded me of the time my son and I went fishing. We were poling the boat back to the dock at my dad's river lots on the Potomac River. We weren't able to get back to the dock because my son and I were not working together. He was about seven or eight years old and was in great fear, and expressing it, which made me very nervous. I told him to shut up and stop poling, but he continued to do both, and finally out of frustration, anxiety and the fact that he hadn't listened to my pleas to stop, I hit him on the head with my pole. He then sat down and stopped poling and I was able to get the boat back to the dock within a very short time.

Back at the dock I immediately asked Dad for a plastic bag with some ice in it to put on my son's head; and he just laughed at me. I felt horrible that I had hit my son on the head, I didn't want to hurt him and it probably hurt me more than it did him. I wished that I had dropped the anchor, sat down, and taken some deep breaths until both of us had calmed down.

Hindsight is always better, but it is too late. The past is over, so what is important is to go forth with new insight, understanding, and a different response from the lessons that are learned.

My Aunt Margaret, the second born and oldest living child at age 90, had positive memories. "I thought he was a great dad, because I worked with him ever since I was big enough to shovel sawdust. I loved my dad very much and I worked with Dad all the time. I wasn't with my mom very much. One thing that I thought was very unusual was when he saw this pretty yellow dress in town in the store. He said, 'Margaret, I think that dress would look pretty on you.' So we went down and parked the...