Sunday, April 18, 2010

My First Cousin.

     The hangout at recess in the second grade, was the see-saw and swing area at the back of the building.  The third graders had outgrown them and the first graders were not able to take them over yet.  It was a cold, cold day and my cousin, Charles Cook, who was in the first grade, was talking to a girl that I had never seen before.  I went over to talk to him and asked him who this girl was that he was talking to.  Charles, don't you know that boys don't talk to girls?  This is my first cousin, Helen Taylor, he replied.  It's hard to figure out life, when you are seven, so I said, "then you are my first cousin too."  She looked at me with a stern hard look, pulled her long coat tight around her, stuck her hands into her pockets, and informed me. "I ain't kin to you"  It was in March of 63 before I spoke to another girl again.
     Some people just have a hard lot in life, and Charles was one of those people that stuff just happens to.  When he was five years of age, he was riding in the car with aunt Katie Bell, his mom.  She was involved in conversation and not paying attention to her passengers.  In 1956 you did not know to, or have the capability to restrain passengers.  As she went around the curve in the road, the door came open and Charles fell out.  The car following behind them stopped and picked him up.  He had a few cuts and bruises and a soft spot on his head.  They finally caught up with aunt Kate, a few miles down the road and returned Charles.  He never did cry, even though his mom was hysterical.
     Every sunday, we would all gather at Daddy Frank's house to visit and eat.  He lived in Midland City on the street behind Jeff Richards store.  There was always a crowd of fifty to sixty people gathered around.  All the kids would stay outside and play while the grownups ate and talked.  The smell of fried chicken and fresh vegetables wafting out of the kitchen was overwhelming, but we knew better than to go ask when we would eat. I saw a cousin do that one Sunday, and he has never been seen since.  When they finished , then they would call you to eat, and don't be caught between the food and the rush of kids coming to eat, or you would be hurt.     Back in the day, not everyone had indoor toilets.  Daddy Frank and Maw were ones that did not.  They did have a nice two seater out house, though.  Even as a child, I knew to hold on when using the facilities, or you might slip through the hole.  Well guess what?  When we were all playing hide and seek, Charles picked the out house to hide behind.  As he leaned against the back of the thing, one of the boards gave way and he fell in.  That was the biggest commotion I had ever seen.  All the grownups came running out the house, trying to figure out what all the screaming and crying was about.  When they found him and got him out, that was the most laughing and joking that had ever taken place there.  And believe me, there were some charactors in that crowd.  By the time he was cleaned up, that was the most humiliated child that had ever walked on the face of the earth.  Aunt Kate told him, it would almost be easier to have another child, than to clean you up.  He probably agreed.
     After that he had a pretty uneventful life until his early forties.  Alcohol played a large part of his life, as it did for many others.  Driving and drinking was an everyday occorance for him and his friends.  Driving on a dirt road in Dale Co. gave him a false sense of security and he became emboldened with each curve that he conquered.  However the one curve fooled him and he lost control and flipped the car.  Just like in 1955, he was not wearing a seat belt.  By the time the accident was over, his life was changed forever.  His neck was broken, and after a long stay in Birmingham, he returned home as a quadraplegic.  He has very limited movement in his arms and feet.  It is a shame and a waste that things like that happen.  He told me one time that he really missed swimming with bow-legged women.