The Beginning...the part I remember

I was 3 years old when my family moved from Alabama to South Carolina. My father had acquired a job at the Charleston Naval Shipyard as a Machinist. He had been in South Carolina for a year training for the job and finally the day came when we would join him. I distinctly remember riding on the back of a truck with all of our furniture. I'm not sure if I rode there the whole way, but I know I was there for a while and there was an old man in the back of the truck who had lost his voicebox for some medical reason and he couldn't talk unless he pumped on some sort of tube going in his neck. I was so fascinated with that contraption. I remember just starring at him. Strange thing to remember, but that's all I remember about the trip itself.

My parents had been poor share croppers in the south, barely living from hand to mouth. I don't remember any of the times when we didn't have food on the table, but my sisters have told me stories of those days. It was a rough and terrible time for the whole family, I'm sure. When I was born, my oldest sister, Louise, had already left home and married. She was 19 years older than me and always seemed like an aunt more than a sister. My next sister was Bonnie. She was 12 when I was born. Then Mary Lou who was 9 and my brother Jack was 6.

Jack hated having another girl in the house. When I was little, he always told me how much he wished I was a boy and how disappointed he was when mama came home from the hospital with a GIRL. I was the only one of her children born in a hospital. She had all the others at home. My mom has told me stories about when I was born and bringing me home and how excited the children were for her to be coming home with a new baby. She said she came home in a taxi and when it pulled in the driveway, the 3 kids just ran beside the car and she felt sorry for Mary Lou because she was so far behind the other children. I refer to Mary Lou as Mlou and she contracted polio when she was about 18 months old and wore braces on her legs and has always been considered the weaker one in our family. We all had brown hair and brown eyes, except for Mlou, she was a blue eyed blond. My daddy used to always say that she looked just like his mother and when I see old pics of my grandmother, I have to agree with him. She does look an awful lot like her, she was dead before I was born, but the others referred to her as Mama Lawrence. My Papa Lawrence was still alive though and I do remember him. He died when I was 8 years old. But I digress...

We are moving to Charleston, South Carolina. Daddy had found us a house at 1801 Norwood Street and we lived there until I was 6. I remember living in that house. I remember lots of children in the neighborhood and I had happy memories of those days...for the most part. The bad memories I have are mostly of when my dad would come home after going out drinking and gambling and he and my mother would get into a fight and he would beat the shit out of her. I remember her having at least one black eye and telling people at church that she ran into a door rather than telling anyone the truth. My dad was probably mentally ill looking back on it. He was very paranoid and distrustful of people, even the family. He was very hard to get close to and I remember him always being argumentative. I have no idea why my mother stayed with him, but she did. He had a bad gambling problem and on paydays, he would stay out late and we children knew the shit would hit the fan when he came home. I don't remember getting beaten in those early days. I got enough beatings once I was older though. He had a leather strap hanging in the bathroom and that is what he always used. I remember my mom would tell me to go find a switch and I would have to fine a little branch from a tree and she would peal the leaves off and switch it back and forth on my legs. I don't remember her ever hitting me with a strap the way daddy did. But my brother Jack got the worst of the beatings. In fact, much of the time daddy would be beating on Jack and my mom would jump in trying to stop my dad and he would start beating up on her. I don't think I loved my dad very much. I thought of him as a mean man and not loving at all. My mother made up for that in spades. She was the most loving and caring person. I was the baby of the family, and I always felt like she loved me best. I think she had a knack for making each of us feel that way.

Bonnie was a wild child and got in lots of trouble and she got married when she was 14 to a guy 25 years old. His name was Bill Blankenship. She was way too young to be married and when we were going to South Carolina to live, she was only 15 and didn't want to be that far away from us. So, she left her husband and moved with us to South Carolina with us. She later told me that once she got to SC she found my dad way to strict on her and she wanted to move out. I'm not exactly sure how the chain of events happened in here. I don't really remember if she moved with us and called her husband to join us there or if they came together. But she and Bill Blankenship found a small apartment. They didn't stay together long and he went back to Alabama and she got a divorce, but she was on her own and would spend lots of time with us and I would stay with her at her apartment sometimes. Those are very happy memories for me. She would always treat me very special and buy me things. I adored her and loved spending time with her.

We lived in a tiny little house and I don't think I had a bedroom at all. I remember sleeping with different people each night. Sometimes it would be in the bed with my mom and dad and sometimes in the bed with my sister Mlou and sometimes with Jack. If I had a "place" I don't remember it at all. But I was happy for the most part. I was afraid to go to bed alone and I remember my sister, Mlou laying with me until I would go to sleep. I always knew she would get up once I was asleep, so I would hold on very tight to her arm, thinking she couldn't get away if I held on. I remember being a spoiled child. I felt very loved and my mother meant the absolute world to me.

We never had a car back in those days and when we went anywhere it would be on the bus. One of the family activities that I remember is taking the bus to the movies on Friday nights. One Friday night we were going to see the movie FRANKENSTEIN. I sat there during that movie and I was terrified. I was probably around 5 years old and when we left the theater Jack would scare me and say Frankenstein was following us. I remember on the bus ride home, I was sure we would all be killed by this monster before we got home. However, we made it home safely and later that night for whatever reason I was sleeping with Jack. Everyone was asleep, and the house was dark. I thought I heard something at the window. It was a high window that I had to stand up on the bed to see out of. I slowly stood up and peeked over the edge of the window sill. There, starring me directly in the face was Frankenstein...I thought it was him, I knew it was him. I jumped under the covers terrified and I think I was just too scared to even scream or wake Jack up. A few minutes later, I peeked out of the covers, and there was another window on the other side of the bed. This window was eye level as I laid in the bed. I looked through that window and I caught a glimpse of him walking by the window, it was Frankenstein. I felt very relieved that he was leaving and still too scared to move from my bed. I was frozen in place for I don't know how long. Finally, I got up and ran to my mother's bed and woke her up and told her the entire story. She comforted me and I went back to sleep. No one in the house believed my story, but to this day, I believe that a man was at our window. In my 5 year old mind, I saw Frankenstein but I will always believe that there was truly a peeping man there.