When Daddy died...

The last time my entire original family was together was at my father's funeral. That was in July 1968. I was 23 years old. It was a very difficult time for all of us and not only because we were at a funeral. That part wasn't nearly as hard as he had made it for us. I did cry and I can honestly say that I felt sorry he was dead (but only for an instant)...I can't even say that I actually grieved him being dead. None of us were close to him and he had a mean streak. Even our relatives couldn't believe some of the stories we told about things he had done. He seemed to be good and kind to others. It was just mama and us kids that he abused. The only one of us that he didn't abuse was Mlou. She said he beat her a few times but not like the rest of us. He thought she was the smart one. That was because she was quiet and never talked back to him. Whatever he said, she would say nothing...ever!! and the rest of us would voice our opinions and it would only enrage him when we would disagree. Mlou later told me that she felt different at the funeral because we were all crying and she could not. I can't speak for any of the others, but for myself, I don't think I loved him at all. There was mama, her face swollen and blue where he had hit her minutes before he died. He had been being very careful with his temper, and actually hadn't hit her in years. But that day, he couldn't hold it back anymore.

I have heard different accounts of exactly what happened that day. But the basic facts are the same. My sister, Louise and her 2 daughters (Beverly who was about 11 years old and Barbara who was about 9 years old). Beverly did something that annoyed daddy. What I heard was that she just kind of hit the wall with her hand, the way a kid will do sometimes when they run by. When she did, a coco clock that we had on the wall fell down and he lit into her screaming and yelling at her for doing it. It was obviously an accident! My mom jumped in to defend Beverly and daddy and her started throwing punches. From the looks of her face at the funeral, he got in some pretty good blows before it was over. During the fight, Louise tugged mama away and told her to let's get out of here. They ran to the car and pulled out of the driveway. And here is where I have heard different stories...one story I heard was that when they got down the road a bit mama realized that she forgot her purse and at that moment they saw a police car going by so Louise flagged him down and asked him to go back to the house with them to get the purse because they were afraid of daddy. The other story I heard was that she flagged the policeman down to go back and arrest daddy because he had beat mama up. In any case, once they got back to the house, Louise and the policeman walked in the house and there daddy was sitting at the table slumped over with the telephone receiver in his hand. He was foaming at the mouth and appeared to be dead. The policeman immediately called an ambulance and mama rode in the ambulance with daddy to the hospital. He was dead...

I lived in Columbia, South Carolina at the time. That was about 100 miles away. I was working there and I remember it was Jack that called me and when I answered the phone, what he said to me is "Pop went back to his old ways..." He said dad and mom had a fight and dad had a heart attack and died. Bonnie also lived in Columbia then so the next day she and I drove to Charleston. When I walked in and saw mama I was so angry at him for doing that to her. I was glad he was dead at that minute.

Daddy isn't in that family photo that I put here on the blog. It was taken the weekend before he died. Since Louise was in town, we decided to all get together at Mlou's house. Little did any of us know, it would be the last time we were all gathered in the same place. I don't miss him and never have.

It spells volumes that we didn't even ask daddy to be in he photo we took that week before he died. In the photo...I am in the foreground and Louise is at the far left, ,then Jack, Mama, Bonnie and then Mary Lou.