THE HAPPY DAYS - CHAPTER 2

Mother had a wringer washer and I was always fascinated with the rollers on top. One day I was showing off for a little girl in the neighborhood and I was running wet wash cloths through the rollers. I held on to a wash cloth a little too long and my fingers were caught. Before I knew it my arm was in up past my elbow. In a panic I didn't think to reach up and turn the rollers off. There was a lever that controlled the direction and I could have simply stopped the rollers and backed my arm out. I actually broke the machine trying to get my arm out. Another time I brought a friend of mine home from school. We were riding together in my wagon down the street from the top of the hill. There was a dip in the road about halfway down and whether I was on my bike, tricycle, or wagon I loved to hit that dip. He was in front and I was in back when we hit the dip and he wasn't holding on to the handle that well. The wheels turned sharply and both of us went face forward down hard on the asphalt. The only thing that saved me from getting hurt was that his body cushioned my fall.

I heard his head hit the pavement and he immediately went into convulsions and his eyes were rolling back in his head. My mother was walking to a neighbors house and seeing what happened she began to scream. Mother was a nurse and knew what to do, however. She told me to run to the house and get a wet wash cloth. A neighbor called an ambulance. This happened on a Friday but by Monday when I returned to school he was okay. One day Mark was riding in our wagon out front of our apartment in the street. The street inclined sharply toward White Bridge road. I noticed the wagon headed toward the busy road and picking up speed. I ran as fast as I could and leapt forward barely grabbing hold of the wagon before it rolled out into White Bridge Road. I tore the knees out of my jeans an they were skinned and bloody. Mark and I were talking about our memories as children and he triggered my memory on this.

One night prisoners escaped from the Tennessee State Prison near Centennial Avenue. The prison is no longer active. The main building looks like a castle and it has been used to make movies for the last twenty years or so. It was built in 1898 and was closed down in 1992. The movies Nashville, Marie, Ernest Goes To Jail, Against the Wall, the Green Mile, and Last Castle have been filmed there. Along with music videos and popular television programs. One summer night when mother and daddy were sleeping with the windows open mother was awakened by the sound of heavy breathing. She looked out the window and saw two escaped convicts sitting on our back steps trying to catch their breath. Police cruisers were driving up and down White Bridge road. They were searching the neighborhood with spotlights looking for the prisoners. She then saw them jump up and take off running. Another time we were driving east on Charlotte Avenue when I heard something hit the drivers side of the car near where I was sitting in the back seat. A little boy was trying to cross the road and ran right into the side of our car. Daddy slammed on the brakes and both of my parents ran after the little boy to make sure he was okay. The collision had knocked the boy's shoes off. Frightened he jumped up and took off running. My parents were able to catch him and luckily he was okay. It all happened so fast that it took me a minute or two to realize what was happening.

Daddy was a great father and he regularly took us hunting, boating, swimming and fishing along with everything else we wanted to do. I couldn't swim and I was scared of the water. Mark was able to swim like a fish from the time he was a baby and had no fear of the water. In our home movies of Chickasaw State Park during the 1950's I am wearing a life vest in shallow water. One of daddy's favorite places to fish was Lake Louise near Marrowbone Lake. Once I stumbled on the bank and rolled into the lake. Another time daddy caught a big fish. I was so excited that I fell into the water. Both times daddy had to jump in after me because I couldn't swim. Because of this he enrolled me in a Red Cross swimming class at Centennial Park's public pool. Somehow I survived these years. I have always heard that God takes care of kids and fools.

My brother Mark was born on January 26, 1955. Our Aunt Vera came over to babysit us while mother was in the hospital. Having a baby was a bigger deal back then than today. A woman's stay in the hospital was at least three days. I can't remember what Aunt Vera looked like but I am told that she had a dark complexion because of our Cherokee heritage. A DNA test I did with ancestry.com

did not show that we have any Indian blood at all so I don't know why she had the dark complexion. My sister Donna called her a witch because it was during this time that Donna found out she wasn't my father's biological daughter. Aunt Vera was the one who told her this. Donna was devastated because daddy was the only father that she had ever known. She was born on March 27, 1946. Her real father was John Phillips and he was from Murfreesboro. John was a low-life because he physically abused my mother. On top of that he was a bigamist because he was married already when he married her. She had the marriage annulled but by that time she was pregnant with Donna. John Phillips spent two years in prison for bigamy. When he died in the early 1980's he was indigent and was buried in a paupers grave at Woodlawn Cemetery. Mark was a cute baby and I was the typical big brother. We played together a lot and I can't remember fighting all that much. I was pretty protective of him.