CHAPTER 1
Guardian Angel: The Escape
I was born in Iuka, Mississippi. It is a small town located in the northeast corner of the state. Iuka is a Chickasaw Indian word. The town is known for its Indian heritage and mineral spring water.
In the fifties, downtown was the hub of activity. Many of my childhood days were spent playing in Mineral Springs Park, visiting the soda fountain in the drug store, and going to the theatre on Saturday afternoon.
When we ate at the cafe, I usually got a slug burger. My grandmother paid fifty cents for two slug burgers and a small bottled coke. After sixty years, eating slug burgers still rekindles warm feelings of security and love.
Some of my earliest memories are of playing on the porch of a big bungalow house. The lights from a car lot lit our front yard.
Dad worked at the Pan Am, our town's most popular gas station and garage. My family lived in the house with my grandmother for six years. The children in my family were all born in that house.
In 1955 my grandmother remarried. To my amazement, she left me and moved in with her husband. I liked that man, until he took my Maw Annie away!
How could she leave me and move in with him? I was not the only one that missed my grandmother. Suddenly, my parents had four kids to care for alone. Their cook and full time babysitter was gone.
My grandmother sold the house in Iuka. Mom didn't want to keep it. We moved to Daddy's old home place in the Sardis community. A big house with a dog trot hall and a porch across the front, it was built out of unpainted wood. The house was located eleven miles out of town on a gravel road. Most of dad's family lived in the area.
Mom contributed the money she got out of her parents' house. Dad added the land he inherited. After tearing the old dwelling down, they built a new house on the farm. With a little help from Dad's brothers, they did all the work themselves. This young couple was so proud of their new home.
My mom got a job at a new shoe factory that had just opened in Iuka. She was one of the first women in my dad's family to work outside the home.
It really bothered him, because mom felt she had to support the family. Dad farmed and did odd jobs. He raised pine trees, cut firewood, raised cattle, and planted crops. Basically he made a living the same way his parents had.
The farm was also a wonderful place to live. I had cousins. Jack and Jim were just a year older than me. When they weren't busy doing things together, I got to tag along with them. They could fish, hunt, and swim. I helped with their chores and learned all about the animals.
Having an extended family was nice. We were with them, almost every day. My aunts and uncles took us to church on Sunday and to town on Saturday. They helped us as much as they could. They realized their brother was neglecting his family.
Dad did not manage the farm well. His brothers were not rich, but they made a good living farming their land.
My dad had always been known as a hard worker. He was very talented in most of his endeavors. Since he was the baby of the family, he had more advantages than his brothers.
I guess mom knew the reason dad was changing. The man that worked hard to buy us things. The man that protected us, and took care of all of our needs. The man that loved us, and showed his love every day. That man was gradually disappearing.
My daddy had been drinking for about three years. It didn't help that we lived next door to the local bootlegger.
Our county was dry, which meant alcohol was not sold in stores or restaurants. If anyone wanted to drink beer, they had to drive across the state line to Tennessee or Alabama. Both states were only one county away and only a few miles from our town. Meanwhile a few bootleggers did a booming business. They supplied whiskey to the Mississippi dry counties.
Mom thought moving to the farm would get dad away from the whiskey, but it didn't!
Dad was gradually becoming an alcoholic. He started drinking more and working less. Drunken binges came pretty often. And with each one, he seemed to get more abusive. Several times he was so abusive, Mom had to leave him. We usually went next door to one of his brothers' houses.
He was the youngest of nine children, many of whom lived on neighboring farms. My daddy was the only bad egg of the family! His brothers and sisters were good Christian people. They would do anything they could, to help their brother. They would sober him up and help him to get in control of himself. Then we would come back home. Daddy would be so sorry. Life would be good for a while. Then it would happen again. It began happening more often.
I was six years old and in first grade at Pleasant Ridge School. School was out for the Christmas holidays. Our Christmas tree was up. Presents were under the tree.
Mom took us to a Christmas party at Genesco Shoe Company. Santa Claus was there. They had toys for all of the employees' children.
It was not just a little something. They had the best toys I had ever seen! I got a Tiny Tears Doll. It was the most popular doll that Christmas. She cried real tears. My sisters also got nice toys: a red wagon, dolls, an iron with its own ironing board. We got fruit baskets, candy, and a ham. It was the best Christmas ever!
We were so happy with the toys we received. Mom said, "Let's put them under the tree. You can play with them Christmas morning." There they sat. I'm sure they were the nicest toys under the tree.
Momma had been cooking Christmas cakes and a ham. The house smelled good, with aromas of cedar and sweets. My grandparents were coming!
I should have been excited because it was Christmas — but I wasn't. How could you care about Santa or toys when your whole world was crumbling around you?
I worried about adult problems. Going to school, meant I had to leave my baby brother and sisters with Dad. I worried about them every time I had to leave.
I remember the teacher asking, "What do you want for Christmas?"
I told her I wanted a doll because that's what most of the girls said. The things I wanted, Santa couldn't bring.
Problems robbed me of my childhood that entire year. My mind was never on childish things like playing, looking pretty, or making friends. That kind of stuff was so unimportant to me.
Daddy had been drinking for a couple of weeks. Holidays seemed to be the worst for him.
He came in that Christmas...