Campaign

            Our move back to Campaign was bittersweet. I was glad to be back where I had spent many of my younger years, but the reason for being back was not good. Daddy was in bad shape and I was sick also. However, at this time I had not shared it with anyone. I knew that I had a tumor, and my self diagnosis was that it was cancer. I was reading everything that I could find on cancer and I knew that it was a real possibility. The other problem was that we had just lost our income, so buying food was a problem, seeing a doctor was certainly out in my mind.

            I had also left friends in Livingston, including my girl friend. All this combined with the independence I had gained from being away from Daddy and Mama was real upsetting. I had always clashed with Mama and now she was the one telling me what to do, and doing so without Daddy being able to back her. It wasn’t going to work.

 

            Mama was going to control those around her, and I was not going to be the one she conquered. I had always been the one that she would take her anger out on. I would be punished for things that she knew that I hadn’t done. I developed a strong opposition against all injustices. I also had a high tolerance for pain, so she couldn’t beat me into submission. I would stand and take it and not cry. This would only make her madder and she would beat me more.

            I also was the one that was expected to do all the work. I would get up at four AM to feed the cattle and milk two cows. By the time I was finished and come in the house, the rest of the family would be finishing breakfast. I wouldn’t have time to eat before I got ready for school. Jerry was twenty months younger than I, and always too young to help; although I had been milking for years.

            I didn’t realize it so much at the time, but I was getting a lot of anger built up inside me. It was on a Friday that I had hitch hiked home from school, the school bus took too long getting to Campaign from McMinnville, and I wanted to get chores done and go to Livingston to see Debbie. After feeding the cattle and milking the cows, I informed Mama that I was going to Livingston. I had a bag packed and was walking out the door. She said that I couldn’t go, that I was the one that had to do the milking. I said that I was going anyway, so she tried to hit me. I grabbed her arm and restrainer her. This was the first time any of us went against her. I walked out and headed for the highway to catch a ride.

            The main highway was about a mile and a half from the house. I used my usual mode of transportation: hitch hiking. I didn’t return home for a couple of weeks. I had stayed in Livingston for the weekend and returned to stay with Joann. No one ever brought it up, but I am sure that Mama had told them. After that I came and went when I wanted. I fell back into a pattern of staying where every. It was also the start of sleeping in the junk yards and abandon houses. This skill developed into a confidence of finding places to stay. I learned that hospital waiting rooms, all night launder mats would provide a warm place to stay. I used hospitals and launder mats in several towns including Murfreesboro and Nashville.

            During this time I was getting increasing ill. I was losing weight and my breathing had become restricted. The people around me were becoming aware that something was wrong with me. I wasn’t staying in anyone place long enough for them to get an indication of how sick I really was. I had resigned myself to not living to become an adult.