living out side the box

It was never easy for me, living in the middle of nowhere, at least I learn to respect nature. Where I'm from every deep breath you took...lungs full of bullshit.

As a child:

When I was a young boy, I use to hunt and fish all the time. I can still remember my ninth birthday, my father (who was nice around that age) gave me my first shotgun - a sixteen barrel, perfect for squirrel and rabbit hunting.

I use to spend all my winters out of school exploring the 10,000 acres surrounding my house. We lived down a long, lonely road famous for it covered bridge (which I also discovered) sort of like Christopher Columbus... he didn't really "discover" America because the Indians were there long before- but try telling Christopher that. I found old arrow head rocks, some Indian graves, deer tracks, blackberry fields and everything else one could imagine living in the boomdocks.

Things were great back then before I started to Junior High School, which was located at the beginning of that lonely road to no mans land. That made little difference if I was on my turf or not. Other kids (white kids) started getting quite abusive when I started being friends with Amanda; the most beautiful full bodied girl I had ever met. Too bad I still wasn't that interested in girls at such a young age.

The funny thing about that time is, before I started going to Wachoochee (jr. high) I had never onced looked in the mirror and thought I was any different than anyone else - some of us was darker some lighter. And since I was brought up in the Church,(from Bible school to Sunday services) where I learned and saw with my own eyes that Jesus and everyone else I studied in my books were lighter, still didn't make me think anything negative.

Amanda was really an Angel, she had just moved to Alabama from out West and sat right in front of me during three classes. I think slowly but surely I was starting to really like girls... at least Amanda.

The more I started to get the know her, the worse those N-word remarks got. I grew up with a older sister, I had no clue in how to defend myself. I sincerly tried what the Bible and my Mom always told me; "Just pay them no mind, and if anybody ever hits you, turn the other cheek." I constantly tried to ignore it all. Even the Principal didn't do much, so I just stopped complaining. I just had to face up to the point that I was going to go home miserable everyday.

I was just happy that it would only be a two years stay and the first was coming close to an end.

Up until the seventh grade I had great report cards, normally A - B average. And no it wasn't Amanda that distracted me so much, all of the racist stuff had made her also a little afraid to communicate with me in school. No it was only getting worse with the boys... In 1982 I made the worse mistake a picked on person could make! I joined the school band. I wanted to play Saxaphone but my parents told me it was too expensive so I got a Trumpet. Being in the actual bandroom at sixth period was "so-la-la" ok. What was bad this year was after school waiting for the school bus.

It took me another half of a year before I finally fought back! To be really honest, one of my older cousins use to see the way I was being splapped and picked on and decided he would show me how to box. I wasn't no George Foreman or nothing, but I managed to hold my ground. The last time it got physicial was on the last day of jr. High.

Allen Mills, running back and linebacker. Even with 13 he was more like a man, and a very popular one at that! Only years later could I classify him as a real Red-Kneck, he only kinda liked darker football players... I must have hit him very hard because it took a few minutes for him to get up off the ground, and by that time the bus was pulling up!
But after that day I never got, "racially" - physicially attacked again (thank God)!

I stayed most of that school break in the woods hunting, never really getting lucky(I couldn't sit still long enough). And besides that my father must have been having Vietnam flash backs or something because he wasn't the nice daddy I had always known. Or maybe he was just mad at me for getting into so much trouble the past two years. I was just glad it was over, next stop Smith Station High School.

1983 was once again a good year for good grades, I was also interested in learning more about the world. Plus my sister was a Senior my first year so nobody really picked on me. I knew her boyfriend Byron "Bonehead" Weeks the Varsity Football Star - even Allen was kissing up to him. We had become quite good friends over the two years he was dating my sister, sometimes even hunting and fishing together. He even gave me a nickname, T-bone... It was only shortly after he graduated did I ever figure out why he always hung out with me...Amanda! Yep! Even though we never really dated before, I sure did like her a whole lot! Once I started seeing them together more often, it made me change my attitude toward both of them.

10th grade, I tried out for the football team...and made it! Defensive end, second string wearing jersey number 83. We praticed four days a week, right after school, up until game season. Where I sat the bench most of the time. I think remember only playing in two games the whole season, where I was put at wide reciever the last couple of minutes of the game...losing game! I still remember missing the winning catch in the fourth quarter. (nothing to be proud of!)

High School spring break:

No matter how bad I played, I showed the coach always how bad I wanted to play.

During spring break, I explored the cow fields with my white next door neighbor Bobby Head. We were almost the same age but Bobby was a bit more contained than I was. His family was also nice, his father always let me ride his three wheeler, instead of sitting on the back of Bobby's.

About two weeks into spring break, despite the fact that my Mom told me not to get back on the "thing". We went mud riding and I had a very bad accident, where the terrain was too rough and flipped the bike right on top of my knee.

It wasn't a nice feeling knowing your Mother told you not to do something but you do it anyway and injure yourself...

When the Head family drove me up to the house, sitting on the back of the pickup truck, I could see my Moms angry face. My knee was the size of my head and I was dying from pain. Mom protested and refused to take me to the Hospital(straight away)! It seemed like hours, though it was more like thirty minutes before she stop complaining and brought me to Cobb hosipital in Opelika, which was the closest city to my small town of 210 people.

After xrays and scans, the doctors told me and my mom that they would have to operate. Sheeze, why didn't I listen to that mothers instinct? She never complained before today, I should have just listened.

Two days I layed in my empty hospital room waiting patiently for my o.p. - hoping that I could finally eat some real food. Because of mother dearest anger at me she didn't bring me any home cooked meals when she came to see me. Everyday for that week, she showed up punctual right after work! No chicken, no burgers just bad, bad hospital food. And that all with a cast on my right leg - from foot to pelvis!

After the seventh day I begged my mother to take me home. She did...full body cast,crutches and all. Two more weeks before our first pratice and I was crippled. To show my love for the game I still showed up everyday for pratice... dedication! But before the season got to a start the bully coach dumped me! And if that wasn't enough... just seven weeks before school end, I was sitting in fifth period, enjoying my typing class. When the principal walked in with the police an arrested me.... Hold up, I must have forgotten something.

Oh yeah! During the last six years I had been also a State winner for my age group in clay pigeon shooting, four year in a row first place! I loved guns. Not for any wrong doing, they were more like my hobby. A couple days before the cop inncident, I spoke to my cousin Mike about my new 357 snugnose. He told me he had been looking for one, so I made a deal with him to buy it off me for $120.oo!

Now understand this was just an innocent sale, no bullets just hardware. In those days nobody was shooting up schools and practically every student driving a pickup had a gun in the window rack.

I was suppose to meet Mike in sixth period the last class of the day. When I came to school that morning I put snugy in my locker and never seen it again until 5th... and the only reason then was because I wouldn't make it on time from typing to the gym if I stopped by my locker, but dig this!

While I was doing my fourty words a minute, I didn't really pay attention to that little white girl sitting behind me in class. I never even had a conversation with her, I barely even knew she was there, until that day!

The three officers brought me and my bag directly to the Principles office, where I noticed that little girl who sat behind me in typing class. She turned so quickly away from my face as the cops shoved me into the office. "This is where it got interesting!"

Still not knowing why I was being ha-rrested, the cops searched through my bag where they found my little unloaded snuggy... Then the girl was called into the office! Me being so niave, I still didn't realise what was going on. Evedentlly little Miss White America had excused her self to go to the bathroom to go report me to the office, but she didn't just say I seen a gun in classmates gym bag, no, she had made up some wild story that I had pressed her against a wall somewhere outside and had threaten to shoot her with my unloaded snuggy!!! I swore on my life, that I had done no such thing! Next thing I know my mom and dad was at school sitting next to me.

The reason I am telling you this...hmmmm! Well see even though I told my parents the truth about why I brought the gun to school, no one beleived me! I was suspended for the rest of the school year...and the cops took my unregistered pistol.

I was beaten by my mom, then by my father. Put to work in our four acre garden from 5oclock in the morning to night break (I don't mean chores either)! Only until I had started going to a private school did the truth come out and I was released early from my suspension.

Took about a week before I came back but was suspended again the same day out of the same class, because I defended myself against a few racist football players. A got hit in the face and at the very moment I swung back... the Principal walked in! At least no parents this time but once again suspended!

To Be Cont.