Author Lester Nuby Jr. began life in a dilapidated house in Bell Springs Mountain, Alabama, but now he is a successful businessman who doesn't have to worry about money. It wasn't easy for Nuby to scrounge his way out of poverty, a task made more difficult by the fact that his father was murdered just five months before he was born. Nuby understood early on the difference between the "haves" and the "have nots" He made it his mission to break free of the bondage of poverty. By the age of seven, he had already started taking notes that would become the ingredients for a personalized formula for success. By following this formula, Nuby went from being a low-level employee at a company with hundreds of workers to its front office in eight years. When he became president, CEO, and chairman of the board, the company had annual sales of $70 million; he was just thirty-four years old. Join Nuby as he recalls how he broke the chains of poverty to lead companies throughout the world, and take a new view of economic disparity and how to seek justice in First: Breaking Generational Poverty.

FIRST

BREAKING GENERATIONAL POVERTYBy Lester Nuby Jr.

iUniverse, Inc.

Copyright © 2012 Lester Nuby Jr.
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4759-2925-6

Contents

1. THROUGH THE EYES OF A CHILD...................................................12. THE EARLY YEARS...............................................................53. MY GRANDMA MILLICAN...........................................................84. WILHITE STATION AND THE MECHAW HOUSE..........................................115. WORLD WAR II..................................................................136. INTO OUR OWN WORLD............................................................207. SAYING GOOD-BYE...............................................................258. ANOTHER CHANGE................................................................289. THE WAR IS OVER!..............................................................3010. VETERANS ARE HEROES..........................................................3211. GRAMMAR SCHOOL DAYS..........................................................3412. THE NUBY VISIT...............................................................3913. BASEBALL AND DREAMS..........................................................4314. GUITARS AND MUSIC............................................................4515. HIGH SCHOOL..................................................................4916. UNCLE VIRGIL.................................................................5217. WORKING DURING SCHOOL........................................................5618. DATING AND HAVING FUN........................................................5819. FIRST FULL-TIME JOB..........................................................6120. DATING AND MARIAGE...........................................................6621. LIFE ABOUT TO CHANGE UNITED STATES ARMY......................................7522. OPERATION BIG LIFT TO GERMANY................................................9023. ASSASSINATION OF PRESIDENT JOHN F. KENNEDY...................................9424. PLANNING FOR THE FUTURE......................................................9725. DEPARTING THE U S ARMY.......................................................10026. RETURNING TO ASSOCIATED GROCERS & CONFLICT...................................10327. LEAVING ASSOCIATED GROCERS JOINING PASQUALE FOOD COMPANY.....................12028. PASQUALE SOLD TO JOHN LABATT.................................................14229. PERRY COUNTY FOODS...........................................................15130. THE A & M PARTNERS...........................................................15931. MY FORMULA FOR SUCCESS.......................................................17532. REGRETS......................................................................18333. ONE DREAM MY SON FULFILLED...................................................19534. THINGS I LOVED CHEROKEE ROAD HOUSE...........................................19735. THE TURNING OF MY HEART A NEW LIFE...........................................21036. LOOKING BACK WHAT I BELIEVE..................................................22037. MY BIOLOGICAL FATHER MURDER MYSTERY..........................................22538. "YESTERDAY WHEN I WAS YOUNG".................................................230

Chapter One

THROUGH THE EYES OF A CHILD

Although the early years of my life are dim in my recollection, I clearly remember one wintry day when the weather was very cold. The air was frigid, with a mixture of sleet and snow. I looked out the frosted windowpane I could feel the breathtakingly cold air seeping in around the glass. As I breathed on the window, it fogged up. As three and half year olds would do, I drew little images with my finger, which intrigued me. I asked others in the room to take a look at what I thought were very small masterpieces.

I didn't realize that everyone was preoccupied. They were preparing for the bone-chilling walk to Wilhite Station. My mama, grandma, grandpa, Uncles Albert, Virgil, Ralph, and Aunt Vera put hats and other heavy clothing on to fend off the bitingly cold weather. My mama bundled me up with an overcoat, gloves, and a hat that covered my head, ears, and most of my face. I had no idea where we were going.

I looked out the window again and saw dozens of people walking down the dirt road to the railroad station, which was a short distance from our big, unpainted wooden house. As we walked out of the house, we all began our journey down the little old winding dirt road from our house to what we called the main road.

We merged with other travelers. Many people had walked a long distance and were noticeably suffering from the cold weather. Only a few people arrived in cars or trucks. Some people were not dressed properly to face the harsh weather conditions. As we walked, I heard the limbs snap off the pine trees. Some were so laden with snow that, as they fell, they made the sound of a gunshot. Yet the sunlight reflected the indescribable beauty of the sleet and snow as it fell from the sky.

Wilhite Station was a stopping point for the steam engine trains to refuel and let passengers off and on. I heard the arriving train from miles away, making that peculiar, distinctive sound that passenger and freight trains make as the metal wheels hit the rails.

On most days, people looked forward to hearing the sound of the train as it came closer; that day, there was a somber feeling. People stood as if posted in stone. They were cold and uncomfortable. The precipitation and frigid weather caused ice particles to cling to their faces and clothing. Some looked like pallid corpses, their eyes filling with tears. Some were wiping tears from their eyes and faces with handkerchiefs.

The brakes of the train screeched as it slowed down and finally came to a halt. After a few minutes, the porters opened the doors. The onlookers could see through the glass windows of the warm, inviting interior of the Pullman car as the passengers gathered their belongings, hats, gloves, top coats, and scarves. As they moved slowly toward the doors and down the steps of the Pullman car, the freezing rain, sleet, and snow greeted them. Many were speaking quietly as they disembarked from the train.

Some of those who came to meet the train were openly weeping; others were being consoled by family and friends. A few people appeared to be happy; this was perplexing to me. This was something I could not understand at the moment. Most of the crowd became so quiet that I could hear the people nearby breathing slowly and intensely.

Once the passengers were off the train, men dressed in military uniform waited outside a second car with wide sliding doors. Everyone was silent as the porters opened the doors. The military men were standing at attention. The men in military uniform unloaded one wooden box at a time until six wooden boxes, each draped with a red, white, and blue American flag, had appeared. Each box was carefully placed on a wooden platform. Hearses were parked nearby to deliver the wooden boxes and caskets to their burial destination. Some onlookers were crying and sobbing as the boxes were unloaded. All the adults knew that there was a casket inside each wooden box and that inside each casket lay a son, husband, relative, or friend. The sorrow reflected was overwhelming as friends attempted to console those who had loved ones inside the caskets. One very old lady was looking up to the sky asking God to help her through this ordeal. As she stood gazing upward, the snow and sleet pelted her face.

An older, large lady I had...