APRIL

I love April. It's probably my favorite month. Everything starts blooming and the weather gets warmer. I can remember years ago when I got my first pair of glasses and rode around in awe looking at the flowers and trees that were in bloom. I hadn't realized how blind I was until then. 

Only one thing mars the beauty of the month. This is the month that my dear cousin, Donna, died unexpectedly 36 years ago. She was only 20 years old. I wonder what she would have been like if she was alive today. She was funny, and cute, and a great friend. We grew up together so she was almost like a sister to me. 

Donna was also very stubborn. She got mad at me one time and wouldn't talk to me. I can't remember what she was mad about but if she was around I'm sure she would remember. We lived near my grandmother's house and I would see Donna out there. She acted like I didn't exist. It really hurt my feelings and made me sad. I begged my grandmother to talk to Donna and get her to forgive me (for what I don't know) and talk to me again. Thankfully, she listened to Beulah and forgave me and we became fast friends again. 

I don't know what I would have done if she had been mad at me when she died. I don't get over things easily. Neither did she.

She was mad at her mother before she died but my aunt told me that Donna forgave her. I don't know if that was true or not because I talked to Donna on the Sunday before she died and she told me she was never going to trust her mother again. She found out her mother had been seeing her ex-husband but lied about it. Donna didn't like David. 

Donna never forgave people for lying to her. She dropped several friends she grew up with for lying to her and not taking her to Florida on vacation one year. 

After Donna died we talked about her all the time and tried to piece her last few days together. I found out her husband had been seeing another woman who had been calling Donna's house to talk to him. Donna said she could hear a baby crying in the background. She thought it was her husband's baby by the other woman.

He was a notorious liar and told some outrageous tales. He had her convinced I was chasing after him and drove a wedge between us. She should have known I wouldn't touch him with a ten foot pole. He was young and ignorant and wanted to keep Donna away from everyone who would support her. After she died, he and his sister went to an attorney to try to get Donna's house. He also told Donna's mother that some woman was chasing him at work. He had the nerve to say that people were teasing him and would clap their hands every time he walked by. I didn't understand what she meant until she told me that he meant the guys at work were accusing him of catching the clap from that woman. He was nasty.

He told so many lies that we never did know what really happened to Donna. He said some nasty things about when the detectives interrogated him. He was one of the most disgusting people I've ever known and I can't understand why Donna put up with him. I think he played on her sympathies because he lost his father when he was young and Donna lost her father when she was little, too. She got in over her head before she realized what he was really like and never had a chance to get out of the situation.

We always wondered if he had something to do with Donna's death. There never were any definitive answers for why she died. She died in her bed and was supposedly asleep when she started convulsing and bucking in bed. Her husband said he straddled her and held her down instead of getting up and turning on the light. He didn't even call an ambulance. He called my grandmother and said Donna was dead. She ran out to my mother's house and knocked on the door. 

Momma was sitting in the den, waking up, getting ready to go to work. She said she heard Beulah moaning and yelling "Open the door. Donna's dead!"

Momma hollered for Daddy to wake up; Donna was dead. She said Daddy jumped out of bed and rushed to Donna's house before she and Beulah even got there. Donna was laying on the bed, in her jeans and shirt. Daddy leaned over her and started doing CPR on her. Momma said she was on one side of Donna's bed, rubbing her hand and calling her to wake up. She said Donna was already cold. Daddy told me later on that Donna's jaw popped when he tried to open it. He thought she had been dead for a while.

That was the most devastating and tragic thing our family had ever gone through. Donna's daddy died in a trucking accident when she was a baby and our family reeled for years from that death. Donna's death would take decades to recover from. Actually, we never completely recovered from her death. Our family split and turned against each other and has never recovered. If anybody had told me our family would have disintegrated like we did, I would never have believed them. We used to be so close I thought we were invincible. I wouldn't wish that pain on anybody.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY
Sanna, Patricia, Susie, Debbie, Aja, Allen, and Kathy

HAPPY ANNIVERSARY

Jason and Hanna, Myra and Noodie, Ann and Jim

RIP
Beulah Burchfield, Henry Cornwell, and Donna Shoates

REMEMBER
Tax Time

AS ALWAYS

PIO

Go Pam Go

I was fifteen years old when I learned to drive. Moma said I needed to learn to drive a stick shift before I learned to drive an automatic so she taught me how to drive her car. She had a 1959 Impala. When I got my learner's license she would let me drive on straight-aways so that I could get the feel of the car. Moma chided me for being a lead foot and tried to get me to keep it between the lines. We had a few close calls. When I had to stop for red lights on hills she jumped over next to me to keep the car from rolling back more than once. She accused me of making her hair turn grey.

What can I say? I was a wild child. I was driving a float! The Impala had wings and it was white. It was huge. I couldn't see well when I backed up and driving forward wasn't much better. But I loved driving. I would beg people to let me drive but nobody ever trusted me. I can't say I blame them.

I remember my cousins, Randy and Debbie, were at my house once and Moma said I could drive the Impala out to my grandmother's house which was two houses down. Randy lived in the house between my grandparents and me. We were all very close when we were young. I don't remember if we were supposed to bring a bowl or something to Beulah's house for Moma or why Moma agreed to let me take the car. I just remember that she told me to go out there and come right back. Debbie and Randy were going to ride to Beulah's with me.

We pulled out of the driveway and started to my grandmother Beulah's house. By the time we got to the drive way someone said something about taking the car down the road. Somebody else agreed with the idea. As the driver I made a split second decision to drive on down the road a piece. We were only going to go a little further and turn around. The trouble was, I began to be scared that I'd pull into somebody's driveway and not be able to back out fast enough and someone might hit us on one of the hills. Dug Gap is a very hilly road with lots of dips and curves. Some people use the road like a drag strip.

I kept driving further and further trying to find some place to turn around. I was sweating it because I knew we were going to be in trouble. Instead of a five minute trip I was headed to the end of Dug Gap. I got about two miles down the road before I finally turned around in somebody's drive way. Mailboxes were across the road from the drive way. I backed so close to the mailboxes that the slanted antenna bent straight up and snapped. Ah, busted. I was in deep crap now.

Any joy I may have felt in our little joyride was gone. Poof! I didn't know what was going to happen to Debbie and Randy but I had a pretty good idea what was going to happen to me. It wasn't a pretty picture. We headed towards home and drove to our grandmother's house. Maybe she could protect us.

I had to go home and tell Moma that I broke the antenna when I took the car. She was very mad at me for taking the car down the road without permission. She knew how mad Daddy would get. I don't know if he was more upset because I took the car or because I broke the antenna but Moma took the blame for me and told him she had let me take the car. She just didn't tell him she only meant to Beulah's house. I always hated putting Moma in that position.

My mother earned every one of those grey hairs. She earned half of them the day she tried to teach me how to pass. I had been riding a cars bumper when she told me that I should pass them. We were going north on Highway 41 up the steep grade near the Carmichael's.

I got up even with an old truck and started up that grade. I kept trying to get around them but couldn't get up enough speed. I was focused on passing the truck so hard that I didn't let up on the gas. Moma started getting so excited that she started yelling Go Pam Go, over and over again. I thought she was cheering me on. Moma was frantically banging on the dash yelling Go Pam Go when I realized she wasn't yelling Go Pam Go. She was yelling No! Pam! No!

I looked up and a semi truck had crested the hill and was barreling down directly towards us. The driver in the old truck wasn't giving an inch and I was about to kill us. My God! I let off the gas and fell in behind the vehicle. After Moma collected her nerves and new grey hairs she gave me a good lecture and told me she'd let my daddy teach me how to drive from now on.

Daddy drove a big green boxy Ford truck with a green plywood homemade camper on back. He decided to teach me the right way to pass somebody when we were going camping one time. We were on windy curvy roads and I didn't really want to practice there. He kept insisting until I pulled up alongside a vehicle. Daddy told me to speed up and pass them, then pull in front of them.

I did exactly what Daddy said but I didn't check my mirrors to be sure I was far enough ahead of them. I cut into their lane and nearly ran over them. Daddy got mad and started yelling at me about cutting people off. I had no idea about watching my mirrors and I couldn't even see out of those big ass truck mirrors. That's the day I decided I'd never pass anything unless they were really, really slow. Better that than me plowing into somebody.

AS ALWAYS

PIO

Little Debbie's Tall Tale

I was sixteen years old when my parents bought me a car for my birthday. It was a used light green '67 Camaro. I was so proud to have my own car. I liked to load up the car with my cousins or my friends and cruise around downtown Dalton.

The summer I got my car, my two cousin's named Debbie got to come visit my grandmother. My cousin Debbie B and I were very close, because we were two of my grandmother's granddaughters. My other cousin Debbie G was our second cousin, my grandmother's neice. We weren't around her very often so we used that vacation to get to know each other better. She lived in Michigan. Both girls were fourteen years old.

Every time we would go some place Debbie and Debbie would argue about who should sit in the front bucket seat beside me. My cousin Donna went to the store or riding around with us, too, but they didn't let her sit up front. This went on for a while until I finally told them that Donna could start sitting up front because they never let her. The poor girls had to sit in the back seat of the Camaro. Those were not comfortable seats. Donna got to sit up front and could actually see what was happening. She was nine years old and wasn't very tall. She was so happy to have her turn.

We had a wonderful time together talking and visiting. Debbie G was a Catholic so my cousin Debbie B and I would ask her questions about being a Catholic. She taught us how to make the sign of the cross like Catholics. I had been doing it all wrong. She was fascinating, to me, partly because she was a yankee but partly because she was so talented. I also thought her accent was adorable.

Debbie G could sing like an angel. She sang one song so beautifully that I always got goosebumps listening to her. She sang "Why Does The World Go On Turning?". I think Skeeter Davis sang the original song. She would listen to the record over and over and over again, playing it on her little record player until she because perfect at singing it. She also listened to songs to learn to play the guitar. She was very talented.  Any time company came to Beulah's and PawPaw's, PawPaw made Debbie sing for them. She was a natural.

Debbie G told me she liked to sing because she wanted to make her daddy proud. She said that he wanted her to go to Nashville and the Grand Ole Opry someday. I couldn't imagine having such a big dream but I knew that Debbie G had enough talent to make it if she wanted to.

My grandmother let us sleep upstairs in her front bedroom. I can remember talking until dawn and the early morning mist rose dancing across the neighbor's lawn as daylight creeped in gradually. I remember talking about our lives and our loves and our dreams. I remember the hot, suffocating heat mixed with the smell of cedar, and a slight musty smell from all the quilts and bedding that hadn't been aired out for a long time. The upstairs at Beulah's was a treasure chest. There was no telling what you might discover in some nook or cranny. We were free to play and clean and snoop in drawers and chests and attic closets with endless dark spaces. We could play house or anything our minds could imagine.

One thing I remember clearly about one night was a confession Debbie G made to Debbie and me. She told us about her boyfriend, Butch, who was a soldier in Viet Nam. Butch was about five years older than she was. She said that when he got out of the army she wanted them to move to Georgia and live. She said she loved it here. Debbie told Beulah and anyone who would listen that she and Butch were engaged.

My grandmother had a habit of promising people in the family some land to build a house on. Beulah told Debbie G that she would give her and Butch an acre of land to build a house on when they got married. Debbie really believed her. Over the years, Beulah promised a lot of people land. She even told people she babysat for that she wanted them to live near her and would like to give them some land. I don't know why my grandmother said those things but people believed her. She never did give the land to anyone but her own children.

During that summer visit Debbie G opened up to Debbie B and me about her relationship with Butch. She told us that she and Butch were so much in love that they had eloped before he was shipped out to Viet Nam. She said they had gone to a justice of the peace and gotten married. She asked us not to tell anybody about it until after Butch got out of the army and came back home.

I couldn't believe that Debbie G was really married. How could somebody marry someone so young? I thought that Debbie G was making up stories. Although Debbie B and I questioned Debbie over and over again she stuck to her story.

Debbie G's father came back to pick her up and take her home. Debbie B and I didn't see her again for a very long time. I never told anyone in the family about Debbie G's claim because I thought she was lying and I didn't want to look like an ass because I believed her, which I didn't.

We learned that Butch was killed in Viet Nam when the truth came out. Debbie G's parents told my grandmother that two soldiers came to their house looking for Debbie G after Butch died. Debbie G had been the beneficiary on Butch's insurance and they came to give her the check. They said that she was the legal beneficiary because she and Butch had gotten married. That was when her parents found out about Debbie's marriage.

Although Debbie G was very young and only a child herself she proved herself to be very mature and honorable. Her parents told Beulah that Debbie G refused to accept Butch's life insurance and asked them to give the money to his parents instead. As incredible as Debbie's story was, it was true. Although she loved Butch with all her heart she showed more maturity and an open heart than anyone I can think of because she thought of his family instead of herself. That's amazing when you think about it.

AS ALWAYS'PIO

Gracious Gratitude

I've never forgotten my Christmas present when I was five years old and I especially never forgot the lesson I learned the hard way. As a little kid I don't remember many specific details. I think my consciousness was sort of napping until my id awoke. That's the psychoanalytical source of psychic energy. I guess it is my way of saying that if it were not for this specific incident I would probably have forgotten what I had gotten when I was five but fortunately for that Christmas I had gotten a beautiful bright blue bicycle and had my first road trip.

Daddy bought me a 24" bike but, to my diminutive stature, it appeared huge. Daddy chose an expensive bike and he told me that he got it for me so that I could take care of it and never need another bike in my life. Woe! That was a big responsibility to a little girl but I was delighted. He had even put training wheels on the bicycle and left them barely not touching on either side so that the bike could be ridden by experienced riders like himself.

We lived in a rental house on Dug Gap Road in Dalton, Georgia. His parents lived about two miles down the road from us. Daddy's sister lived between us and their parents house along the way. The weather was nice for Christmas day and Daddy suggested that we ride my bike down to my grandparents house. He said that he would ride on the seat and steer for me and I could pedal so that my legs could start getting strong so I could ride my new bike. I thought that was a fine idea. After a while I saw that I had been duped but that didn't matter, we still traveled on. Sometimes Daddy would give me a break and let me rest from pedaling. I was growing exhausted by the time we got to the old Dug Gap store and stopped to rest. My aunt lived in one of the houses next to the store and we stopped in to visit and get warm before we traveled on.

My aunt had her house all decorated for Christmas and had a big cedar tree in the living room sitting on her polished wooden floor. I remember she always had a Victorian painting of a woman posing for her picture. I asked her who the beautiful lady in the picture was and she said it was a portrait of herself when she was young. I frowned at this statement but never thought to doubt her. I just thought they didn't look the same to me. Hmm.

Vivian was a big joker so I never knew when to take her seriously. Sometimes she was called Ben, too, so that's what I usually called her. Her son had tried to call her Vivian when he was little and it had come out as Ben and it had stuck. She was all the time teasing us kids and she was teasing me that day about giving me a Christmas present if I was nice. I had to beg her for my gift. She pulled out a present all wrapped in gay wrapping paper.

I tore into it and unwrapped something knitted. I unfolded it and saw that I had gotten an ugly pair of red slipper socks with stripes on them. I must not have looked pleased because Ben asked me if I liked the socks and I said "No. They're ugly."

I must have hurt her feelings but when you're five years old you only notice your own feelings and my feelings were hurt. I don't know why I didn't like the socks but I thought they were a dumb gift. Vivian said, "In that case then I'll give them to Stevie or Eddie. They'll like them." Stevie and Eddie were my younger cousins and Ben's nephews.

I didn't want her to give my present away so I said "No, I'll take them." to which she replied, "Too late, little girl. You'll learn to say 'thank you' next time." She put the gift back in the pile for somebody else and I ended up with nothing. At first I thought she was kidding but she wasn't kidding this time.

The moral of this story is sort of obvious but it was one lesson I learned awfully young. Too bad a few more people haven't met up with their own Aunt Ben and learned to be gracious and say 'thanks' no matter what the gift is. It's not the present that counts, it's the thought.

I never did get a gift from Ben that year and I never did complain about anything she gave me after that. Lesson learned, Daddy and I continued on to Beulah and Paw Paw's house, but the climax of the day had already happened. The ride back home felt a lot longer.

AS ALWAYS PIO