On a facebook post my one of my nieces I learned another of my first cousins (once removed) has passed away. I never really knew him as he was so much younger than I. In a way that makes it even sadder. I'm 58 now and he was probably not even 50 yet. Complications from pneumonia it was said.
I really only knew his older brothers and sister so it is not like I lost a close, personal friend. But, it got me to thinking of all the people from my childhood who are no longer in this world and, through no vitrue of my own, I am still here.
Kenny "Buck" Spradlin whom I attended West Van Lear Elementary with put his Mustang under the back of a coal truck up by Porter Elementary in my early 20s. Never really knew him but I did go to school with him and I remember he lived just across the street from the swings.
One person, who's name I don't even remember, from my high school class lost a confrontation with a train some years after I graduated. And, that was just the beginning. I guess it is just a part of life that we have to watch so many leave it before us.
My first cousin, Elizabeth Fitch, married Johnny Borders and they are both gone now and have been for some years. Elizabeth (Lizzie) lived with us when we lived on Stafford and went to school with my sister Mary Jane. Johnny would come to see her and I loved him to come because he did a great Bugs Bunny impression. "What's Up Doc?" was the way he always greeted me.
I recall one time they rode motorcycles over the swinging bridge at Whitehouse and came to see our family in West Van Lear. I could not then (or now) imagine taking a motorcycle over that bridge. I guess when you're young things are just different.
I remember when some of my cousins and my ex turned sixteen they held a communal sixteenth birthday party at their house. We played "Post Office". I'm afraid I did not acquit myself well.
I used to bum cigarettes from them all the time. They both smoked so there was no shortage of tobacco around their house.
Lizzie and my brother, William, had a harrowing experience at Dewey Lake where they both almost drowned. William would push her up where she could breathe then he would thrust himself up where he could breathe. I was there on the shore but I don't really remember anything except hearing about it.
Then there was Aunt Bernice's son Jerry Lee. He was a farmer, cattle grower, bull dozer operator on the strip mines and had a family of three boys and three girls, as I can recall. He was always off working somewhere but he finally build a house (across from Johnny and Lizzie's place). I helped Delbert Lee (the oldest) and Dan (the next) dig the foundation for them. I can recall going to the stock market with them and taking a cow for Jerry Lee to sell and then he'd buy another one to bring home. His memories mingle with the memories of his sons whom I hung around with.
Delbert Lee was slightly younger than I and Dan (known as Groundhog) was a few years younger though he is the one I became the closest with. Dale (as Delbert preferred to be known) was allowed to quit school early by a doctor for medical reasons. He started working really young and used his Dad's big truck to haul coal and sell it. In fact the first time I drove a vehicle was taking that truck, loaded with coal, down a steep hill from the strip mine. If I were him I'd have never trusted me in those circumstances. Seems all my life people have had more faith and confidence in me than I did in myself.
Well, Dale is still living though Groundhog is not. Seems he drank himself to death some years ago. I'd not heard from him in years but he and I spent some interesting times together when we were both younger.
We walked to Sherman Lemaster's store and each bought a case of pop (sodas) and went camping up a hollow from Virgil and Wanda's house. I cut pine boughs and wove them through other boughs on the tree to make us a shelter. Good thing as it rained that night. We sat up just talking and trying to drink a case of soda (I think it was RC) each. We did not manage but it was still a good night. Getting dripped on by the rain and listening to the sound of it in the trees around us.
We did a lot of things together and I'll probably elaborate on them later in another post.
My best friend during high school was Dave Burgess. His dad was named Burl. He was really close with my cousin Lizzie. Now Lizzie had a half brother named Joe. I can't say too much about him but he ended up getting killed in a fight with Burl because of something he said about Lizzie. I was not there and just heard stories. Burl, later died of lung cancer from years of smoking.
This is not even a good beginning of the remembrances I have of people from my life who are no longer here but I don't think I want to go on with this just now. I'll continue talking about and remembering them at some later time. Suffice it to say, none of us are promised tomorrow and every day some of us will not be around when tomorrow comes. And all we will leave behind is memories in the minds of others.
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