Kingsport, Tenn.

It is July of 1946 and I have a growing, nagging feeling that I should be back in North Carolina making arrangements for college. "Herndon" I said suddenly,  "Don't you think that we have had enough bumming around?" Herndon looked at me and said "You are right. Things have changed since I left home. Look at this town. Streets are laid out and being built all over the place. A whole city has been planned and being built before the houses are even constructed. Let's find out what is going on, then we will go home, O.K.?" I replied "I'm with you, if it doesn't take too long" We had to find a cheap place to stay, so we started walking around looking for rooms. There was a large white frame building in the middle of what was supposed to be the future city. It didn't look like a residence, but then it didn't look like any business either. There were no signs to tell what it was. "What do you think Herndon?" I said, not expecting an answer. True to form Herndon said "Well, let's just toddle in and see for our selves". The door was unlocked, so we stepped in to an open foyer that had stairs leading to a second floor. I paused after entering the door, a little uncertain about going into a strange place uninvited, not Herndon, he was half way up the steps clumping as if he owned the place. I was about half way up the steps when Herndon reached the top to be confronted by a large gray haired lady. "And just what are you boy's up to" she demanded with a stern look on her face. "Mam, we just got out of service and we're looking for a job. We needed some place to stay while we looked" Herndon replied with great respect. I reached the top of the stairs and stood beside Herndon. "And what would I be calling you?" the lady asked as she looked from Herndon to me.  "My name is Hilliard and his name is Herndon"  I replied. "You boy's don't look old enough to have been in service. How old are you anyway?" She questioned. "I just turned 21 and Herndon is 18. He lied about his age and his aunt signed for him to go in service,"  I answered, "but he is real growed up for his age." She turned her attention back to Herndon and I had a chance to look around me. The place was scrupulously clean, but not much in the way of furniture. From where we stood I could see two open bedroom doors. The room we stood in, at the top of the stairs, was large with no furnishings except a table. The table was small, about 3 by 4 feet in size and had a little machine sitting on it. It was placed right at the top of the stairs. A chair was placed at the table so you could observe who came and went downstairs. There was a small stream of paper coming out of the machine and curling over the side of the table. I realized that she was watching us from the minute we entered the door. "I'm going to take a chance on you boys and let you have a room, but I want no noise or mess out of you. Is that understood?" she said right forcefully. Then she laughed and said "That will be your room" and pointed to the bedroom on our left. After dropping off our duffel bags in the bedroom, we walked out past the lady, who was busy looking at numbers on the little slip of paper, and out to the street. "I'm hungry, I could stand a good hot dog. How about you?" stated Herndon as we started up the street. I nodded and we walked back to a little hamburger place that we had passed earlier. We entered and ordered hot dogs. I sat down at the nearest table while Herndon stood making a big production of loading his hot dog with every extra on the counter. "You boys from here abouts?" asked the waiter from behind the counter. "He's not" said Herndon pointing at me, "but I was raised over in Norton, Virginia, which is right close by". "Planning on staying a spell?" continued the waiter conversationally. "Depends on if" said Herndon and continued. "If I find me a job I'll be here permanent. If I don't, I'll look someplace else I reckon." "I hear tell that there will be plenty of jobs, what with the new plant opening" informed the waiter. "What plant is that?" asked Herndon. "Eastman Kodak" replied the waiter. "Going to be a big thing here abouts. You should to go out and get you a job lined up." A construction worker who had been sitting at the table next to us stood up, wiped his mouth and said, "I'm on my way back out there to work now. If you boys like, I'll give you a lift in my truck, that is if you don't mind a little dust. They ain't finished paving the road yet. "We crawled in the back of the pick up, still holding the hot dogs, and headed to the Eastman Kodak office. When we arrived, I stood around outside watching the construction of a building, while Herndon went in to check on a job. He was out in a little while with a big grin on his face. "I am now a bona fide, working civilian" he said. "You got a job this quick?" I asked. "Was there any question, sure I got me a job." Herndon replied. "Doing what?" I asked. "Well, we didn't exactly get that far." replied Herndon. "They just said service men had a priority and they would find something for me to do. I go to work next Monday"  We awakened early the next morning so that I could get on the road home. I finished packing my little bag, then cracked the door and peeped out. The lady was already sitting at the little machine. I closed the door quietly and whispered to Herndon "Before we leave here, I want to know what she is doing on that little machine" Herndon looked at me with a big grin  "You don't want to know and don't ask because nobody is going to tell you."  It was said with such finality that I dropped the subject. After checking the room to be sure we didn't leave anything, we walked out in the hall way to pay the lady. Herndon had to tell the lady about his job first then we asked how much we owed her. "Fifty cents" responded the lady. Herndon's mouth dropped open with surprise. "That's including both of you" said the lady and smiled. She then walked over and hugged Herndon like a mother and said "You boys be careful when you leave and come back to see me when you can.”

Home Again

When I arrived home I immediately started planning for college. Papa took me to Warrenton and purchased a big steamer trunk. This would hold everything that I owned until I graduated. "Now paste a list of every study that you need on the end of that trunk" papa instructed "and I will pick you up when you finish them". This is exactly what I did. I didn't take a break until I graduated 2 years and 4 months later. Papa had taken me to Elon College and hung around until I was sure that I would be admitted, before heading back to Macon. When he was gone I walked over to Alamance Hall which had the presidents office among other other offices necessary to run a college. It was here that I heard discussions about the college needing a resident doctor for the coming year. There was a shortage of doctors and a shortage of funds at the college. I thought, its worth a try so I walked into Dr. Edgar Smiths (president of the college) office and took a seat. "What can I do for you" inquired Dr. Smith. "I understand that you are looking for someone to run the infirmary and I would like to apply" I said. "We need a doctor" stated Dr. Smith. "I can meet all qualifications for running the infirmary." I pursued. With that I pulled out the papers given me when I left service. The papers stated that I was qualified to diagnose, prescribe and do minor surgery. "This is a little unorthodox. I have never seen anything like it before. Would you agree to an examination by a physician to back this up?" Asked Dr. Smith. "Fine" I agreed and he picked up the phone. He sat with the phone in hand watching me. I didn't say a word so he started dialing. He reached Dr. Little in the next town and explained the situation, asking him if he could verify my qualifications. Dr. Little was a fine gentleman and had an interest in Elon College. He told Dr. Smith that he would come right over and see what he could do. We agreed to meet in West dormitory, where the infirmary would be located. We met in the dormitory and Dr. Little made arrangements to test me. I didn't know Dr. Little at the time and he didn't know me. He really grilled me for a couple of hours then turned to Dr. Smith "I didn't believe it when you called me, but yes, he can handle it and if he ever has a problem he is free to call me at any time. We all shook hands on it and I was hired. I would receive all tuition, supplies, board and room in exchange for my services. Due to the nature of my work I would have unlimited cuts for classes.

Preparing For The Students

It was still a couple of months before classes would begin but I started setting up the infirmary the next day. I was given a treatment room and another room having two beds. Unless too sick to stay in their rooms the girl students could occupy those beds where I could keep an eye on them. I found a U.S. surplus offer at 95% discount for schools and bought the equipment. I bought my prescription items from Justice Drug Co. in Greensboro and stacked them neatly in cabinets. The method used resulted in big savings for the college and that pleased Mr. Butler, the accountant and purchasing agent. The big day arrived for indoctrination of students and the campus was full of cars and vans with doors swung open spilling suit cases on the lawn. I sat in the infirmary to be available for any health needs. The first days of patient visits were filled with mixed reactions. Looks of disbelief to find a boy treating their needs and no older than some of them gave way to acceptance in a short period. Since I had to treat everyone I had access to all of the rooms including the girls dormitories. When going up into the girls dorms I would shout "Man on the hall". I was certainly known by my dress. I always wore khaki. When I entered college I had 4 pair of marine Khakis and 4 shirts. I washed these and placed them carefully under the mattress overnight to iron them. I had no money to buy clothes until the government finally came through with my pay which took six months. The girls in the dormitory soon became accustomed to me and continued what ever they were doing in all modes of dress or no dress. I was very strict about ethics and none of the boys ever questioned me about any girl or vice versa. I could not date the girls due to my position but I was too busy anyway. There were strict rules for the girls and if you broke them you would be sent home. West dormitory was the social center for Elon College. The sitting room, a large open area with sofas and chairs, was located here. The girls and their dates sat here and talked on weekend nights. The girls had to be in their respective dormitories by 7 pm. each week night although they were allowed a 30 minute break after dinner to socialize. This time was spent by most in a little book store, refreshment combination room in Alamance Hall. Some came to do the jitterbug dance and others just passively observed. About 50 feet from the campus and across the street was "The Grill". During this 30 minute break one could walk their their date to the grill and have a soda. The campus grounds were filled with large oak trees and behind every tree, during this break and on weekend nights, would be a dating couples. One particularly large old oak had grown twisted and unique in it's appearance and placement. It was called senior oak and all couples raced for this secluded spot. On week end nights girls were allowed to be out until eleven o'clock. This was strictly enforced and easily checked because each girl had to sign her name and destination before leaving the dormitory. This monitoring was done in West dormitory, which also housed the dean of women. Not only were the girls where abouts always known, but the dean of women made unannounced visits to check their rooms. I have to admit that I let a few late arrivals back into the dormitory via the infirmary window. They had to have what I thought was a legitimate excuse, because I was taking a chance on them breaking rules. The dean of women didn't allow any excuses and the girls feared her actions. She was really a super person and loved her work. The boys had no rules about when or where they went as long as they attended class regularly. They confined themselves mainly to their rooms at night in bull sessions or studying. Walking was the only means of getting anywhere, and there were no trouble spots in walking distance of the campus. There were only two cars owned by students at this time. A boy owned a world war two jeep and a girl in West dormitory owned a nice car. She was very particular who drove this car, but would loan it to me to transport a patient if needed. I felt bad about not having any money to put more gas in the car when I returned it, but at this time the government had become confused about my status and I hadn't received any money for six months. I gave up smoking for that six months because I had no money to purchase them with. I also had to give up the nightly visits to the grill with Dot because I had no money to buy us a soda. My pride wouldn't allow me to let her treat. We just sat on the campus and talked those six months. I became acquainted with Dot when she was a patient. To conserve money, I requested that all of the cough syrup bottles be returned to the infirmary. I would wash and sterilize the returned bottles and reuse them. The bottles cost as much as the cough syrup which I bought in gallon containers. Students were lax about returning the bottles so I posted the names of students not returning their bottles on the main bulletin board in Alamance hall for the whole world to see. Dot's name just happened to be among them. She felt embarrassed and humiliated on seeing her name posted. She immediately went to her room, retrieved her bottle and returned it to the infirmary. Then she told me off, making no bones about how she detested me for doing such a thing. This fiery girl kind of interested me. The music building was next to West dormitory, which housed the infirmary, and I had to pass it on my way to the infirmary. Late at night I would walk pass the building and hear the two music professors playing songs. During the day I would listen to Dot singing as she practiced her music. I always considered the music department a little strange, probably because I had never been exposed to much music. My musical education consisted of director in the second grade and juke box country music there after. Although not understanding good music, I could stand outside the music building and listen to Dots clear voice and never tire of it. Later we were placed at the same table in the dining room and I got to know her better and her animosity passed. I stayed so busy trying to balance patient care with classes that time passed rapidly. Penicillin was in aqueous form then and I had to give these injections every four hours around the clock. Fortunately young people are very healthy as a rule. There were a few that received cuts requiring sutures but these were rare. Not all parents accepted the idea of a young male examining and treating their daughter, however. One mother in particular was so incensed that she bundled up her daughter and took her home. I later married the daughter. I guess the toughest job that I encountered was when a girl sat on a mirror. The mirror broke into hundreds of pieces, sticking in the skin in little slivers. It was hard to detect the glass unless a light was shined just right to reflect off of the glass. I finally called the dean of girls in to hold a light for me. To this girl, if she reads this, I thank you for your patience and no one will ever know of your embarrassment. When people are sick and their defenses down, a great deal is revealed about their weaknesses and strengths. I gained a lot of insight into people as individuals during this time and learned to appreciate people for what they are. I never understood why boys rooms were so much neater than the girls though. The boys didn't work at being neat, they just seemed to have fewer articles scattered over the room. A pair of shoes, ball cap and a few books were the extent of scattered items. The girls, however did work more at making their rooms pretty, and the more they worked the more cluttered the room became. The walls were plastered with pictures, the tables filled with finger nail polish, perfume, powder and other beauty aids. The bathroom was like walking through a forest of spider webs, what with the silk panty hose and undies, hanging to dry, slapping you in the face. It was a complete transformation when a girl closed her door on this chaos and stepped forth, beautiful and smelling like a fresh breath of spring. That is the secret of a girl. She is an allusion. She appears to you in beauty, tender sweetness and loving dependence on you to take care of her every need. In reality she is tough, resilient and a rock of Gibraltar when she has to be. I can't think of anyone more ignorant and egotistical than a man who thinks the female is less capable than the male. Aren't they wonderful creatures!

Getting Married

I finally graduated and pulled my list of subjects off the old steamer trunk. The girl that was taken home from the infirmary by her mother is going to marry me Aug. 28,1948. Yes, Dorothy Mae Shepherd will become Mrs. Dot Shepherd Hilliard. She will be giving up a great deal. She has a voice of an angel and sang as soloist during her college years. She was on tour through the northeast as soloist and received excellent reviews. She graduated with two majors in music. She could possible have a great future in music but she is willing to forsake that to marry me. The night that we married still holds the record as the hottest day recorded on that date. She sang a solo during the ceremony which is unusual. The organ broke and quit during the ceremony but I never realized that there was no music. I think that you get a little nervous when getting married, because I don't seem to remember a lot of the ceremony. On leaving the church we were supposed to get in a limousine and be taken to the reception at her grandmother's house. The limousine had a low roof and Dot (My wife now) cut a long gash in the top of her head. We took her to the hospital and the first thing the doctor ordered was "shave her head, so I can put some sutures in". Now there is no way I am going on a honeymoon with a bald wife so I told him that he would have to make do with butterfly stitches. He accommodated us with the butterfly stitches and we left for the reception. The reception was over when we got there. We were now starting our marriage with only the wedding  gifts and a set of china, which I had painted in college. The honeymoon had to be short and inexpensive as neither of us had any money. We didn't have a job either, but who worries about little things like that at our age. Her uncle Robert loaned us his car and papa gave me $50. We had it made. Tradition was such that girls wore wool suits on their honeymoon. Dot's aunt had bought her a nice wine colored wool suit, which she had on. It was steaming hot, but it would have been unthinkable not to have worn the traditional suit. We were heading to Raleigh on our honeymoon, free as birds and a lot zanier. Reaching Raleigh, I proceeded through the main drag, driving all the way through Raleigh, to be stopped as I reached the outer edge by a policeman. The policeman got out of his car and came to my window. "Son, do you realize that you didn't just run one stop light.?You drove through every stop light in Raleigh and me driving right behind you. Didn't you see me?"  "No officer, I didn't see you. In fact I don't remember seeing any stop lights either. We just got married a couple of hours ago and I guess I was nervous." I answered. He was eyeing the just married stickers on the car and the tin cans hanging from the bumper. "I just can't believe you could drive clear through Raleigh with me tailing you and not stop at a single light. How many accidents have you had?' he asked with paper and pad poised in his hands. "Sir, I never had an accident in my life, but then I was never married before either." I answered. He studied me for a moment then slowly stuck the pad in his hip pocket and the pen in his shirt pocket. Taking off his hat off and scratching his head before positioning the hat back, with care, on his head, he licked his lips and said "I'll tell you what I'm going to do. You are dangerous now, the way you are driving, so you just turn your car around and head for the nearest hotel and park it. I'll follow you and I want that car parked the rest of the night. You do this and I won't give you a ticket, just a warning. "Yes sir, I'll do it" I replied, as if I had a choice. Our honeymoon night was spent in the Sir Walter Raleigh Hotel. Hotels were not air conditioned then and it was one hot night. We called down to the desk and had them send up a bucket of ice. The charge was 25 cents per bucket, but Dot didn't know this. I told her later that we ended up spending more for ice that night than the room cost. The next day we got up and had a good breakfast with the governor of the state seated at a table not far from us. On leaving the motel, I wanted out of Raleigh as I didn't want to see the police officer again, so we headed toward Henderson. Although only some 30 miles away, we got lost and spent most of the day getting there. The Little Hotel in Henderson is where we spent our second night. We awoke the next morning and headed for Durham. The honey moon was over, the money was about exhausted and we needed to line up a job.

Landing a Job

We each had teachers credentials so it was decided that we would teach school. I had been offered a job teaching Math at a little college in Georgia but Dot felt that she needed to stay close to her mother, so we tried Durham County. Within two weeks we each had teaching positions at a county school, Bethesda. She would teach third grade and I would teach the sciences and coach. We were given a furnished house to live in as part of our compensation for me coaching. Two older ladies, who were also teachers, had rooms upstairs. They were nice old ladies, interested in our welfare I know, because at times we would glimpse them hanging over the stair rails listening to us. This would be my first experience with the role religion played in school and communities. I didn't have the fore thought to check on the religious beliefs of the community and as a result pulled some real boners. One night my wife and I were asked to chaperone a group of the high school boys and girls who were having a party in the gymnasium. We had no prior notice until the hour, but we went over and entered the gym. Boys were gathered along the wall on one side of the gym and girls along the wall on the opposite side. We asked what there party plans were and they had none. Being young ourselves we could empathize with them. We sent someone for a record player and when they returned with it, proceeded to teach the kids to dance. They had a wonderful time . The next morning, first thing, my wife and I were called before the principal and he proceeded to tell us that dancing was strictly against their religion. We apologized and said we hadn't heard. Then he began to tell us other things that were against their religion. Card playing was strictly taboo except for the game old maid. The list went on but as I told my wife, anything fun was against religion. I was exaggerating of course. A couple, who went through college with us came down and spent one weekend with us during the school session. They, (Helen and Delmas) like us, liked to play cards and we had played a lot together during college. It had been good recreation and didn't require money. After we had cleared the dinner dishes that night Delmas said "get the cards out and we will beat you a game". Dot looked at me and said "Do you think we can?" I said " sure, if Delmas will help, we will just pull all the shades down on the windows and play cards. "What about the teachers upstairs? They will hear us" Dot said. I replied "No problem there. We will just shout "You got the old maid" once in a while and they will think we are playing old maid." We then explained to them that card playing except old maid was taboo in the community. While we played cards we shared our experiences as newly weds. Dot was trying new things in the kitchen. Last week she had tried to make hush puppies. I don't know what happened but the hush puppies popped up and stuck on the ceiling. I scraped them off pretty good but I will have to paint the ceiling when I get time. Week before last she made a chocolate cake. It was one of those cakes where you add powdered sugar to cocoa for the frosting. Well the ratio of sugar to cocoa didn't work exactly right. I had to go back to the store twice for more powdered sugar and we ended up with a gallon of frosting. Well, we kept things pretty smooth until a speaker was late for an exercise in the auditorium one morning and I volunteered to help fill in the break with some entertainment. I went up on the stage and asked for a half dozen volunteers to come up and be seated in a row of chairs across the stage. Now I had worked with a psychiatrist during the war and become pretty proficient at hypnosis. I hypnotized the kids and had them doing nonsensical things which was great entertainment for the other children. The next morning I was in the principals office again. It seems he had overlooked another “no” in religion, and this time parents were already calling him. I weathered this problem out by just keeping quiet and I was doing pretty good keeping my nose clean until I hit the chapter in biology on evolution. I was informed to skip this chapter. I had had about enough, so I told them that I was going to teach it, but there would be no religious teachings in my room, I would only teach them facts and let them use it any way they saw fit. The next morning a boy came into class and announced that his father said that if I believed in evolution I was a horses ass. I told him that it was all right and to remind his father that according to his religion we were brothers. Now that wasn’t smart but I felt better anyway. On the other hand, I had more students telling me that their parents liked the way I taught and the children liked it. The principal didn't like me rocking the boat and made it very obvious when ever possible. He had his chance to throw a monkey wrench in the works when the superintendent told him to have me drop by his office. The principal waited a few days before telling me and then said "drop by when you get a chance". I was tied up with a game that afternoon and being the coach decided I couldn't miss the game, so I waited until the next afternoon. The superintendent was very irritated and had meant for me to come in the day that he left the message. I told him that it wasn't relayed to me that way but I think the principal was believed. The last week of school was coming up. I was planning on returning to college for extra work the next year but hadn't notified the school yet. Our house or teacherage as it was called, was directly across from the school. On a Monday morning of the last day of school, we walked out on the porch and looked across at the school. The entire school body was out in the yard. I told my wife that something must have happened. I thought maybe there was a fire alarm that emptied the buildings. As I walked on to the school grounds the principal and school superintendent came to meet me. The principal spoke first "we want you to tell these children to go back into the school building". I was a little confused by this request and asked "Why are they out here?" The Superintendent replied, "They are on strike and won't go back into the building". I still didn't know why they were asking me to send them in so I asked "Why are they on strike?" The principal looked at the superintendent then back to me "We decided not to renew your contract for next year." "That's news to me. How did they know before I was told?" I asked. "Well, I guess some of the parents told them."  said the principal. I understood now. The principal and superintendent had been so intent on getting rid of a thorn in their side that they overlooked the parents and children's wishes. I had met most of the parents and they had learned me during the latter part of the year. They liked the honesty and openness that I had with the students and felt that they learned more. The principal and superintendent had worked their way into a hole and wanted me to get them out. I looked at the principal and said "You created this mess, now you correct it". I then walked on across toward my class room. I glanced back to see the principal and superintendent conferring with their heads together. I hadn't been in my class room but a few minutes when they both arrived. The principal started with a bluster "We want you to get those children back in the class room now!" My stubborn streak was beginning to take hold. I leaned back in my seat and said, "You brought this on and you know it. Now what do I have to gain by telling the children to go back to class? You have already said that my contract is not renewed. Knowing you, I can't expect any recommendations for another job. On the other hand you have an embarrassing situation on your hands. I was just considering calling a reporter to cover this story." No, you will have to handle it, not me." Furiously they went back into the yard to plead with the students. In about ten minutes a student came into my room. He related to me that the seniors would not graduate unless all the students went back to class. I knew that I wouldn't allow the students to take that kind of punishment for me so I went out into the yard. I told them that I had enjoyed our year together but had to return to college next year. I told them that I was waiting to tell them later but now was as good a time as ever and for them to return to class. They immediately filed into the school along with me. In retrospect I guess the principal had some trying times too. Some students sent him a truck load of chickens C.O.D. as a joke and another drained the oil from his car motor and refilled it with Karo syrup. When the car got hot the sugar crystallized and the motor never ran again.

Back to College

We only taught school one year at Bethesda, then moved back to Durham to live with Dot's mother. I still had some G.I. bill left and decided to go back and finish a major in chemistry. This would give me majors in Biology, Chemistry and Science. I had taken so many courses in art to up my grade point average that I only lacked a couple of hours of having a major in that also. I thought that this might make my chances better for getting into medical school. To attend classes at Elon, I would have to go as a day student which meant driving from Durham to Elon and back each day. A language professor who lived in Durham and taught at Elon was commuting every day also, I discovered. His wife taught language at Duke so they lived in Durham and he commuted. He offered me $2.50 a week to ride with me. Then I met a machinist who worked in Burlington and commuted daily. He would also give me $2.50 a week to ride. Now I had most of my gas bill taken care of. The rides to and from college were an education in itself with this pair as passengers. The professor related that he had purchased his coffin, had it made to fit his six foot plus frame. It was made from solid cedar wood to last. He now used it to store his books and thus he said that he would benefit during his life as well as in death. The machinist, who always sat in the back seat was a more practical person but quiet. He would just roll his eyes when the professor related these oddities. Professor didn’t eat breakfast at home. He waited until he reached Elon College and went straight to the dining hall where Mary, the cook, would give him leftovers from breakfast. He carried a little pint jar in his pocket that he put left over sausage or bacon in for the night meal. One morning as we rode, I noticed professor sniffling with a cold and trying to tear some paper that was in his jacket pocket. As he scrambled, out popped a roll of toilet tissue that he had acquired from the rest room to save the price of Kleenex. Toward the middle of the year professor started talking about a trip home to Texas to see his parents. He was concerned over the cost and wanted it to be the most economical trip possible. He came up with different modes of travel then would change his mind the next day, as it being too expensive. He finally settled on a plan. He would have his wife bake a gallon of beans and with a loaf of bread they would make the trip. He said that by ordering their drink they would have access to the restaurant's along the way. Sometimes his wife would accompany us when she wasn’t teaching. On these occasions jokes would be exchanged between them with loud laughter, always in foreign languages which the machinist and I couldn’t understand. I asked why the jokes were not told in English and he replied that it had to be told in it’s original language in order to be funny. Along about now the $2.50 that he was paying me started to bug him. He hated to spend money. One day he said to me “Tomorrow I am going to get on the side of the road and try to thumb a ride. Now if I don’t get a ride you can just pick me up. If I get a ride, we will subtract that from the $2.50. I didn’t answer as I couldn’t believe that he would do this. The next morning I drove by Epworth Inn at Duke to pick him up and he wasn’t there. I drove out onto the highway and saw him standing on the side of the rode trying to hitch a ride. I just waved as I drove by and kept going. This was the first belly laugh that I had ever heard from the quiet machinist. The professor had approached me several times about letting the machinist find some other way for transportation. He said that the machinist was so uncouth. On the other hand the machinist had said “ I hope that he can catch rides. You know that guy is strange”. That night the professor called and wanted to know why I didn’t pick him up. I told him that it was $2.50 a week whether he thumbed or not or it was no deal. He didn’t bother with hitching ride attempts after that. After finishing the year at Elon I entered Duke University and studied physics. The subject matter was hard but the building was very nice. It was the first air conditioned building at Duke. The extra courses didn't get me into medical school. I was told that my name was next if any one dropped out, but no one did. At that time we had a baby on the way and I decided to give up trying to get in to medical school and get a job. I had been doing odd jobs while in school such as selling used cars, painting and carrying the morning paper to earn extra money, but I needed a full time job now. I went to the local health department and got a position as sanitarian. Our money was so tight that we figured to the week when we would have our first baby then took out insurance to coincide. At the last days of pregnancy we were really sweating it out. It looked like the baby might be born before insurance was available so we had her stay in bed and no movements for a couple of days. Insurance came into effect on Oct. 1st. and our baby was born Oct. 2nd,1952 at Duke hospital. One of the residents loaned me his room that night and I slept through the delivery and my wife has never let me forget it. Husbands didn't go into delivery rooms then and they woke me after the baby was born. It was a little girl and she came into this world smiling ready to take on all comers. She never changed. I worked at the health department 3 years. The work was a little boring to me but I stayed. I had risen to senior sanitarian status but was not getting the pay of a senior. I gave Dr. Epperson six months notice if my salary wasn't upgraded to senior. At the end of six months I went in to see Dr. Epperson and reminded him. He told me to be patient,bthat it took time. I told him that I was changing jobs and applied to Winthrop Lab. for a position. Winthrop laboratories was part of Sterling Drug company and had several divisions. I took a job selling pharmaceuticals. I was to be what they called a detail man.

Our First Home

My new job required relocating to Burlington, which meant that we needed a house. Some how I had to scrape up enough money for a down payment on a house. I had a vacant lot that I had purchased at auction for $150. I would have gotten it for $50 but I had invited my neighbor to come with me. When I bid $50 and no one else bid, he said gosh “ That’s a bargain. "I’ll bid $100” my neighbor said. This was disturbing as he wouldn’t be there if I hadn’t brought him, so I said “ I’ll flip a coin and winner gets it for $150”. I won, hence I had a lot to help with a down payment. I also had a duplex rental house which I had been renting and that was about the extent of my money. Dot's grandfather had signed a loan at one bank for my down payment on the duplex and I had financed it at another bank. A morning paper route that I carried before work had paid for renovating it. I sold the lot and the duplex making $3000 profit, which was a years salary at the health department. We were ready to house hunt. We found a nice little 3 bedroom house in Burlington on a quiet street with children. It was a new house and although the rooms were small we were pleased. The smallest bedroom was too small to really call a bedroom and we used it for a playroom. Compared to my brother in laws apartment our house was large. His bathroom door had to be opened to make room to bend over and brush your teeth. Now furnishing this house was the next step. I went down to Rhodes furniture store in Durham and told the salesman what I needed. For the living room I needed a sofa and two chairs. The kitchen would need 4 chairs and a table plus a stove. The salesman's face lit up as he said "I'll show you around and let you look at our nice selections." "Maybe I had better tell you about the money that I have to spend before we start looking" I said. I then explained the situation to him. I had a job, a house, a wife and new baby, but I only had $100 to furnish the house. He said "It simply can't be done for that amount". I persisted "Surely you have some old second hand furniture and trade in's that you need the space more than the furniture. Let's look around and you might be able to come up with something". We started looking and he kind of warmed up to the idea." I could use some more space for a new shipment that I have coming in" he muttered as we looked. After much pulling furniture around and trading places with articles he gathered something to fit each of my needs. He sat down at the adding machine to price each article. I pulled out my $100 and gave it to him saying "price each one anyway you like, just make the total $100." He did just that and I loaded the truck. I stopped by my wife's grandmothers and picked up a washing machine that she had donated and headed to Burlington. We unloaded and placed everything in the rooms making the house look real cheery. We spaced everything so that the rooms didn't look empty. The furniture I guess was what you call just right. It wasn't good enough to buy but too good to throw away. I had purchased a good dependable refrigerator from a produce man that I called on when working with the health department, so the food end was covered. The next morning we got up, went in the kitchen and made breakfast in our own home. We sat at the table eating and talking when I noticed the eye on the stove suddenly get hot. No one had touched the stove, but it fired up all by itself. We sat and watched the stove as it alternated between on and off. This problem was solved by pulling the stove from the wall a little so that we could plug it in only when we wanted to cook something. When I returned from work one day Dot was on her knees drying the kitchen floor with towels. She explained that she had put our clothes in the washing machine to wash. This was the washing machine that her grandmother gave us. It had been sitting in her storage shed for some time and was a little rusty. When Dot loaded the clothes in, then added the water, it was too much for the old machine to take and the entire bottom fell out. Water had flooded the entire kitchen, that's why Dot was on her knees. Well, we had another washing machine that had been used before her grandmother gave us this one, so we drug that out. This little washing machine held 5 gallons of water if you filled it up, which we didn't, because we had to get the clothes in. A small motor sat on top of the container with a dasher that extended down into the mixture of clothes and water. When the motor was running, the dasher pumped up and down like an old hand churn. The hardest part of washing with this machine was wringing the water out of the clothes after the motor quit chugging. If you didn't wring all of the water out it was all right, because they would drip dry onto the ground after being hung on the clothes line anyway. We were really enjoying our new home and family life. On Sundays we would go to church then to our treat for the week. This treat was eating out. There was a nice little restaurant across the railroad tracks in Burlington that had good food. Our meal cost us 80 cents apiece for a meat, two vegetables, drink and desert. Our baby, Kathy, ate free. We were trying to save some money for future college tuition for our children so I did anything that I could to bring in extra money. I started painting at night when I traveled, carrying my paints and brushes with me. I did portraits of Physicians and their wives and made almost as much money as my regular job paid. There were some draw backs to painting, however. I was commissioned to do a portrait of Dr. Watt Eagle, who had been chairman of the E.E.N.T. department at Duke Hospital for many years and now retired. Mrs. Semans, the great grand daughter of the Duke who was benefactor of the gift that funded the beginning of the hospital, directed the job. The portrait when finished would be hung in the new library of Duke Hospital. When the portrait was finished we had the unveiling at the Hope Valley Country club. It was well received with everyone applauding the results. A few days later I got a call from Mrs. Semans telling me that Dr. Eagle wanted some changes made to the portrait. The changes that Dr. Eagle wanted was to remove all gray hair (He had a beautiful head of thick white hair). He also wanted all wrinkles removed from his face. Dr. Eagle was a wonderful fellow, kind, gentle and loved by everyone but in his elderly years couldn’t stand the idea of being old. I told them that what he asked was impossible as I didn’t know what he looked like when young. After much discussion, Mrs. Seman’s told me to do what ever it took to please him so Dr. Eagle came back to Durham bringing a picture of himself in a group photograph of his graduating class. I sat at home with Dr. Eagle directing me and repainted the portrait of a young man in his twenties and Dr. Eagle was happy. I did remove my name from the bottom because I knew no one except maybe his mother, would recognize him. His former residents and students were part of the group that proposed the painting and they all knew what took place, so when Dr. Eagle went home we quietly hid the painting behind a book case. Dr. Eagle always called when coming for a visit to Duke and we dutifully rehung the portrait. He died some time later and I took the portrait home and painted a landscape over it. I gave it to my oldest daughter and it hangs in her home now in Goldsboro, NC. I have a friend, John Furlow, who is a professional artist whom I played golf with for years. He did the Duke sports emblems that you see around Duke. He was given a life time golf membership for his contributions in art to Duke. I asked him one day, while we were playing a round of golf, how he avoided controversy with his paintings. He told me that when he was commissioned to do a painting, he called the family in and set up guide lines, letting them choose one person to relate to. He did the portrait as he saw it, the best of his ability and that was final. John was smart as well as a wonderful artist. I gave up painting some years ago. My mental frame work is not exactly suited to painting and being social at the same time. When I am painting and get in a mode where everything seems to flow exactly right, I don’t want to stop for anything. I have painted all day and through the night until the next morning without stopping and that is bad for all around me. When I paint, time seems to stand still for me and of course this doesn’t happen for the people around me.

Detailing

In my prior work, we gave a lot of sample drugs to the physicians. The physician was to try them on a patient and if it worked to his satisfaction he would prescribe the drug. When I went to work as a drug representative. there were only about 16 companies and physicians appreciated the calls. When I retired there were over 400 companies and physicians were selective in making appointments. I had an abundance of samples which I stored in a room on the back of the house. I studied everything that I could find concerning medications and worked hard. The job required travel and overnight stays when over 50 miles from home. I saw and heard many interesting things concerning patients and their medications. I was in a drug store one day when a lady came in with some half empty bottles of medicine. She wanted her money back because her husband had died and didn't need the medicine any more. One day  an elderly lady stopped by the drug store and wanted something for an upset stomach. The druggist went through the routine of trying to determine, by questions, why her stomach was upset. The questions revealed that her husband had been on medications and died before his supply was deleted. She couldn't stand the idea of wasting all that money so she resumed taking his medications where he left off when he died. Sometimes I would have to wait an hour or two before seeing a busy practitioner and I would read or study drugs. There were two places that I enjoyed killing time. One was a doctors office with a mirror about face high in the waiting room, but on the opposite wall, which was the medicine store room, you could see through this "two way" mirror. It was funny to watch the contortions that women made as they applied lip stick or make up. They didn't know of course that you were observing them from about 6 inches away. The other "two way" mirror was in a drug store waiting room and placed in front of a bench. Again, the opposite wall in the drug room had a chair where you could observe the patients as they relaxed. Women would sit down as they waited for prescriptions to be filled. Sometimes they pulled their shoes off and rubbed their feet. Others would glance around to make sure no one was watching, then adjust their girdles. The funniest were the women who carried their prescription money rolled up in the top of their stocking. Not many salesmen missed calling on this druggist and this may have been his purpose of the two way mirror. Care had to be taken when you carried a lot of prescription drugs in your car. I learned to be leery of truck stops in particular. It seems that some people could spot a drug salesman and sometimes they followed you back to your car. In my earlier days I had a habit of opening my car trunk to make sure everything was in order for my next call. I would have individuals appear while I had the trunk lid up and peer at the samples. They would make outrageous offers for samples. It was particularly bad with the amphetamines which were supposed to be used for weight reduction. Some of these individuals would offer a $1000 for a carton of amphetamine samples. I would slam the trunk shut, get in my car and leave, but have an uneasy feeling until I left that town for fear that they may recognize my car later. Another experience with drugs involved a drug store that didn't list his Demerol in stock when it was placed on class A. On class A drugs an accurate inventory had to be maintained at all times. He hadn't turned in an inventory of a large supply and wanted me to pick them up. The problem was that I was not supposed to carry them around either, unless they were accounted for. I thought about it for a couple of days then went by and convinced him that the only way to solve this problem was to destroy them. Since no one but us knew about the drugs, who would inquire as to their where abouts. We took them out back of the drug store, broke them open and poured the contents in a barrel atop news papers. Then we burned the entire stinking mess. It took the two of us about three hours. I always kept a few of the emergency, life saving drugs on hand and the word got around. If a hospital purchasing agent let his supply run out and an emergency arose they knew that I would procure some and deliver it to them immediately. One night I was called at two in the morning and drove from Durham, N.C. to South Boston Va. to deliver some levophed for a patient whose blood pressure had dropped dangerously low. This service was over and above job description, but the service assured me of loyal support in return. I doubled the sales in my territory my first year. I doubled these sales my second year and the company decided to promote me to hospital representative, covering Duke and University of North Carolina. I liked hospital work and the pay was better so I took it.

Moving Back to Durham

It was my responsibility to sell my house in Burlington and pay for moving to Durham. We hated to say good bye to our first little home. The house was priced to give us a $3000 profit, which could be used for a down payment on a house in Durham. At this time a third or fourth of a house's cost was required for a down payment. We listed the house with a realtor and told him what we wanted for it. Time passed and we were getting concerned about the house selling. We needed the money for our new home so I drove over to Burlington one day to see what the hold up was. The realtors brother-in-law was living in the house rent free and the realtor was in no hurry to close the deal. When I confronted him with what I knew the deal was closed quickly. A month after the sale I got a letter from the realtor saying a mistake in calculations had occurred and that I owed him some more money. I told him to get it from his brother-in-law as rent money. I never heard more about money. Our primary aim in house hunting was to find a place in Durham with good schools and a nice neighborhood. A house meeting this criteria was found on Perkins Road, Duke Forest, Durham. Money from the sale of our house in Burlington, was not enough to meet the down payment, so some figuring had to be done. I drove a car furnished by the company, so it was decided that we would sell my wife's car, which was a 1955 Fairlane Ford, and buy her a less expensive one. We had just made the last payment on my wife's car. She never liked the less expensive replacement. The children called it the fat Buick. It was a 1950,blue Buick 2 door, with no power steering. Paul Phillips, the realtor had his aunt give us a second mortgage of $3000 and we had a house. I found a fellow with a moving van and he charged us $40 to move our furnishings to Durham and help us place it in our new house. This wasn't a run of the mill house. It was called a Lustron, and all made of steel with porcelain finish. There was no upkeep such as painting or re-roofing. I added a 22 foot by 12 foot addition plus another bath room on the back of the house. This was made from surplus steel which I bought at auction for $120.40. Now our house consisted of three bedrooms, living room-dining room combination, kitchen, den, breakfast nook, two bathrooms and a garage. A little later I converted the 20x20 foot garage into a recreation room and office. I placed a billiard table in the center of the room and sliding door panels enclosing storage the length of one side. Games, dolls and other toys that little girls like, were placed here. This gave the children a game room, kitchen, bathroom and a fenced in back yard to play. It was a central playground for the neighborhood children.

A New Family Member

Our oldest daughter attended Durham High School among several hundred others. One day she came home all excited and began to relate to us of a young girl at school who could speak no English and had to live in the Y.W.C.A. " This girl is so lonely, Dad, and can talk to no one" Kathy said. I questioned Kathy as to who she was and what language she understood. "She speaks Spanish Dad, and no one at school can understand or talk with her. Dad, you speak some Spanish and you could talk to her" Kathy persevered. "Kathy, I speak only a smattering of Spanish and we know nothing of this girl, what do you want me to do?"  I asked. "I want you to let her come home with me and live here" Kathy said. "Oh brother, you meet a girl who you can't talk to, you don't know where she is from and you wish to bring her home to live with us"?  I asked, incredulous. Kathy tucked her head but she was still determined. "Will you just come with me to school and talk to her"? Kathy said "O.K. I will go with you in the morning and meet the girl, but taking a stranger into our home is out of the question. It is too great a responsibility, rearing another child" I replied. The next morning we arrived at school early and waited at the front door for the little girl to arrive. It wasn't long before this little Spanish girl came in sight. She was about 5 feet tall with jet black hair and large, almost black eyes. But, she was just a child. She couldn't be over 14 years old, if that, I thought. How on earth could parents let a child go to a foreign country, unattended, so young? For the next few minutes we did a lot of signing, gesturing and me trying to remember Spanish. I had studied Castilian Spanish and this little girl was from Ecuador. I pieced together that her father had sent her to America to study and learn English. As you have probably guessed by now, I was totally sympathetic toward this apprehensive, lonely little girl and agreed for her to come and live with us. Just temporary, mind you, just temporary. Well, we moved her into the room with Kathy and I began to realize as time passed that it was like having another daughter to keep tabs on. I knew "Que es" meant " what is" in Spanish and she quickly learned that "what is" meant the same in English. We" what is'd" and "Que es'd" for about 2 months until she learned enough English to communicate. We didn't learn much Spanish, however which seems to be the case with most Americans. As time passed and her English became more proficient we discovered that her father was an oral surgeon and chief in the dental school in Ecuador. She had a brother who was a physician and a sister who was also in America. This girl, Martha, had misled them on her age in order to get to America earlier. She was actually 14 years old. Fitting in to the family like another daughter, she was a real joy. Although I found later that her home had 5 servants to attend their needs, in my house she performed chores along with the rest of us. She came from a good family and fortunately inherited the genes. Bright, sincere, but mischievous all rolled into one was Martha. At night when we were all ready to retire, Martha would come into our bedroom, lie on the floor in her pajamas and want to tell us something. Sometimes these talks would last over an hour. She would tell stories of her country and it's traditions. I would hear Martha groaning in her bed some nights and would go to find what was wrong with her. She would tell me that her head hurt but I knew that she was just home sick. I would sit on the side of the bed , gently rubbing her head until she went to sleep. Since my daughter and Martha needed transportation to school, I went out and bought an old Chevrolet Corvair for $125. This made it easier on my wife, not having to drive them around. A service station, nearby was where they got their gas, charging it to my bill each month. The gas bill kept rising each month until my wife had a talk with the service station owner. It was then that we discovered that Kathy and Martha were hauling other kids home or other places if the the kids wished. I told Kathy that this taxi service had to stop, that we couldn't afford it. Then I put a cup on the dashboard of the car and a sign saying "if you ride you pay". Kids were supposed to drop in some money occasionally to help defray her gas expenses. At the end of the year, we opened the box and found one dime. Martha lived with us a year, went home to Ecuador and returned to live two more years. She married an American boy, becoming a citizen . Martha's parents are both dead now and she refers to us as Mom and Dad. She has a daughter and son who treat us as grand parents. Carla, the daughter, has finished nursing school and now works in the hospital. The son, Daniel, finished engineering college and is working for a machine company. He is also married and they are expecting their first child. Correction, I have just received a phone call and they have a baby girl. I don’t know her name yet.

Life on A Plane

I was promoted to hospital supervisor in my company along about then and made responsible for the men covering hospitals from Illinois to Texas, thence across to Florida and back up the east coast to North Carolina. This was one fourth of the hospitals in the U.S.A. In order to cover such a wide area it was necessary to ride a plane all week. I would fly from our home in North Carolina to Atlanta on Monday morning. Atlanta was a central place for planes and you could fly any where from there. I would fly to the city where our salesman worked and he or she would pick me up at the airport. It was tiring and lonesome staying in strange towns at night and no company. There were some diversions, like the time that I was staying in a motel in north Miami. I went to my motel after dinner to prepare for bed, only to hear a drunken couple in the next room playing the T.V. very loud, then trying to talk over that. About 1:30 in the morning I finally went to the manager’s office and asked for some peace and quiet. He went to the couples room and told them to quiet down or leave. They quieted down and I got some sleep. When I returned to my motel the following evening I heard the same couple. He was drinking and swearing about the manager who had quieted him down the previous night. I decided to get a change of rooms at this point. As I left my room on the way to getting a change, I noticed a door open to a little room where mops and supplies were stored. On the wall in this room was an electrical box with circuit breakers. I eased into the little room, placed my ear to the wall and tripped circuit breakers until I heard the T.V. shut off in their room. I then returned to my room and listened to hear the women telling the man to go and have the electricity cut on. He refused because he was drinking heavily and had had words with the manager the previous night. Without electricity they went to bed and I could get some sleep. Before I went to sleep however, I set the clock to awaken at 4:30. When my alarm sounded the next morning at 4:30 am I slipped out the door and cut the circuit breaker to their room back on. In the next room all lights went back on and the T.V. came on with the volume wide open. I listened to the mad scramble to cut things off as I settled back in bed. Another incident, which was more pleasant, happened in Kentucky. It was in the horse racing area of the country and at a hotel that catered to all the desires of the horse racing fans. Heavy snows came the day of my arrival and I was snow bound for that week. The hotel had a magnificent dining room which was divided according to foods. A meat section, salad section, vegetable section, dessert section and drink section were all partitioned separately with many choices. I counted 17 separate salads in the salad bar. Being snow bound and with nothing to do, I did a lot of eating that week and gained 8 pound. Within a month I had lost the weight but it was a great experience.

Integration of Schools

With a second mortgage and Dot staying home with the children our finances were tight to say the least. Dot was the manager of finances and some how she managed. The children went to neighborhood schools and transportation was not a problem as our older daughter could drive. We were doing fine with no major crisis until integration started. Our neighborhood was made up chiefly of university professors. They were very nice people but not worldly wise. Having been trained in a narrow niche of education, they were sorely lacking in what we call common sense. They called a community meeting one night and I went, having no idea what the discussion would be until I got there. The focus of the meeting was on how we can speed up integration and get a 50- 50 ratio of black and white. Now I grew up working and living with blacks and don't have that big prejudice that they harp on, but I want my children going to neighborhood schools where I can keep an eye on them. If I live in an area with 50-50 ratio inhabitants and the school is 50-50 ratio of students, fine, as long as it is in my neighborhood. Well, laws were enacted and plans put in place to obtain 50-50 ratios. To do this, the children in our neighborhood would have to be transported across town and the children across town transported to our neighborhood. I had to buy a car for my daughter, Dody, to get across town. At the end of that year another neighborhood community meeting was called. This time when I arrived, the focus was on" what are we going to do to keep our children in our neighborhood school". I told them that they had got just what they asked for, in the beginning, and left. The across town school was a disaster for us. The children were from different neighborhoods and formed little groups with children from their neighborhood. My daughter, Dody, would park her car and before she got to her class room kids would have the hood of her car up and tinkering with the motor. I drilled a hole in the hood of the car and put a pad lock on the hood. It made a different hood ornament, but didn't solve the problem. They couldn't get the hood up now, so they blocked her car to prevent her from driving out at the end of school day. I would then have to go after her. This wasn't black against white, it was strangers from another community who go home after school. Blacks were experiencing the same type of problems. If you wont a 50-50 ratio that works, then you have to have a 50-50 ratio of homes in a community. This would help prevent the distrust taught by parents to their children. It had reached a point now where the "community group" had had enough of transporting across town and wanted to build their own school. A building was obtained on St. Mary's road in Orange county and we started a school. Volunteer parents painted, and cleaned until the school was presentable and a school master was hired. Our younger daughter, Dody, attended school here. It cost more to send Dody to school here than it cost to send Kathy to University of NC. In the mean time I was hunting for a house out of the city school district. At first we contracted for a lot and consulted a builder, but the house couldn't be completed by the deadline given by the school and we scrapped that idea. Eventually we found a home on Hope Valley Rd. and moved. The house had been put up for sale due to the builder declaring bankruptcy, so we got it for less than it was worth. A good bit of landscaping had to be done and so I worked constantly on weekends and at night. I had an old iron trailer that I hauled the scrap away with and it worked real well until the trailer tongue broke. When the trailer broke, it dropped the iron tongue on my hand, cutting to the tendons. I was alone at the time and rather than go sit in an emergency room the remainder of the day, I went in the house and found my old suturing needless. I injected some lidocaine in my hand to stop the pain, then using some silk thread that, I found in my wife's sewing basket, I took six stitches in my hand. It closed the cut nicely although it was a little awkward tying the thread as I had to hold one end in my teeth. In a couple of weeks the hand was as good as new. I believe that individuals growing up when life was tougher could tolerate more inconveniences. An example comes to mind concerning my uncle Thomas. Thomas as a young fellow was feeding corn into a corn chopper one day. Now a corn chopper is a machine whereby you place the ends of corn stalks in the machine and it pulls the corn through, chopping it into small pieces. Thomas was pushing the corn stalks into the machine when one corn stalk, turned wrong, stopped the flow. He reached forward to straighten the stalk and the machine caught his fingers. Before he could pull his hand out it had drawn the hand up to the wrist. He was able to prevent his hand being pulled any further by bracing his knee against the machine, but he couldn’t pull his arm out and he was tiring from holding his knee in that position. He hollered again and again but there was no one with in miles of the house. He pulled his belt loose with his one hand and looped it around the upper arm that was caught in the machine. Then, desperate, he took his pocket knife out, opened it with the help of his teeth and proceeded to cut his arm off at the elbow. After cutting his arm off and freeing himself, he walked to the country doctors office. Strange as it may seem, in later years the arm that had been cut off would hurt him, he said. One day when I was with him, the arm begin to hurt him, so this time we went to where the arm was buried and dug it up. Nothing changed so we put it back in the hole and covered it up.

Returning to Teaching

Dot had gone back to teaching school in 1969. She taught music in several schools, traveling from one to the other during the school day. She returned to a different generation of children. I don't know if bathrooms were more accessible or for what reason, but children were a little cleaner than 30 years ago. There was also a change in the names of children. She kept a book on names for awhile and we used to laugh at the variety. Such names as Latisha, Lavonda, Kudonna, Perrunna and one named Veneral. The latter I found was named by a resident in the hospital. It seemed that some mother's were fond of their doctor and asked them to name the baby. This smart aleck doctor named the baby Veneral. The practice was stopped after this happened. A favorite pediatrician of ours was called out to an urban area one day concerning a new child birth. As I understand the young mother had her baby while in the out house and it dropped through the hole. No problem, however with this pediatrician on hand. She held the baby up by the heels, washed it off good, then took it in the house to the waiting mother. The young mother wanted the doctor to name it and so the doctor named it "Johnny Pitt Spain". Our financial condition had improved and we had started investing. A house was purchased in Henderson and rented. Another house purchased in Hillsborough and rented and then a tobacco farm in Warren county. The timber was sold off of the farm, tobacco acreage rented, and the six room house on the farm rented. We were ready now to get the girls through college.

Daughters

It's hard to believe that these two little girls, Kathy and Dody, have grown up. It seems like yesterday when we were potty training them. I recall one Sunday morning as we were ready to leave for church, we heard Kathy calling "Wee, Wee" from the bathroom. There we found her, pleased as punch with her self, standing in the commode with her new patent leather slippers on and water up to her knees. Or the time when going through the cafeteria line, with a big church crowd, Kathy saw the waitress serving mashed potatoes with an ice cream scoop and yelled "Oh boy, fried ice cream". Or little Dody, waking us up on our anniversary saying "I fixed your breakfast." In the kitchen we found two uncracked eggs in a frying pan beside napkins and a fork. The time at the beach when she cried because she said she didn't like it when the ocean flushed. There are many pleasant memories over the years to draw from. Miraculously, we have raised two girls to teen age and remained sane. Kathy, the eldest, finished Univ. NC with a music major and a teachers certificate. Later she married Stephen Lies, who was a resident in obstetrics at Duke Med. School. He put her through law school at Duke and now they have two girls. The elder of their daughters, Windy finished University of N.C. at Greenville with a Degree in Art , then went on to get her masters degree before she married Jeff Lampson. I used to sit with Windy when she was 6 or 7 years old and show her how to mix oil paints and make pictures. I never thought of her growing up to be an accomplished artist. The younger daughter Hillary is a freshman at Duke University. She is still undecided as to her life's work. She has maintained an A average through school and should have no problems with whatever she under takes. Dody finished college at Elon with a teachers certificate and later married Patrick Denault who also graduated from Elon. She went back to school at State Univ. and got her masters after marrying. Now they have two girls. Their eldest daughter Katy ( 11 years old) is in the 8th. grade and Patty, the younger is in the 5th. grade.

Preparing for retirement

It was emphasized, by many, that when I retired I would be bored. Never having experienced it I decided to be on the safe side and build a workshop. My brother gave me some nice 2”x 12” boards to support the roof. I scavenged enough 1”x 12” boards to put a good cover on the roof. I bought 2 windows at a wrecking company in Greensboro, NC and two more at a yard sale. The total for the four windows was $8. I got most of my 2”x 4”s from an old stable in Warren County at no cost but I had to buy the siding and roofing material. All in all I built myself a 12 foot by 24 foot work shop for $400. It was slow work alone as I had to build it in 12 foot sections and prop them up with poles until I could nail them to the adjacent structures. When I finished it was really solid and a little on the heavy side as I had poured 4” concrete for the floors and bolted the base to the concrete at 14” sections. Well, I had built on level ground but the weight of the building was causing it to settle into the ground. For the first few years, it settled fairly level so that it was 2 foot below ground level but still looked good. After 15 years from the time that I built it, it started settling on the front side and eventually the building looked lop sided and the water now ran off the front side instead of the back. My son in-law would observe it when ever he came and say “Well it is still standing”. I racked my mind for solutions to leveling the building and decided to jack it up with rail road jacks. Taking a grubbing hoe, I dug out a place for the jacks and sat them on concrete blocks. When I started jacking instead of the building rising as I thought that it would, it went the opposite direction, straight down. It was evident now that I was not going to raise the concrete floor, not an inch. This time I went around inside the building and unscrewed all the bolts that fastened the house to the concrete floor then placed my jacks under the building. When I started jacking this time there was a cracking and popping but the building went upward. I raised that side about 8 inches which leveled it pretty good and the water would run off the back side again. Now, all that I had to do was place boards along both sides and pour concrete which raised my foundation and worked fine except I have to step over the door sill which is about 8 inches higher than floor level. I spent a lot of time in the work shop after retiring, building odds and ins for us and my wife’s friends. I built my daughter an oak dining room hutch with glass doors in the top, drawers in the center and doors at the bottom. There was $400 worth of oak boards in that hutch but it was for my daughter. I built many step stools and chairs for friends and built a solid walnut dining room cabinet for my wife. I didn’t want to pay the exorbitant price for walnut wood and by luck I found a lady who had a pile of walnut boards on her property. I bought what I needed for $1 per foot. The wood still had the bark on the side so I ran it through the planer until it was 1 inch thick, then built the cabinet. It came out very nice and I placed mirrors in the inside back to reflect everything that was placed inside. I went on to build the cabinets in our den, the mantle piece, cabinets in the kitchen and washer room and other odds and in’s. I was having to buy all of the materials for every thing that was made, and it was getting expensive, so I sold most of my wood working tools and took up Golf more seriously. My wife treasures the walnut cabinet more than any other piece that I made. . In the bottom of the cabinet is the 12 piece setting of china that I designed, ground the powdered paint with mortar and pedestal, painted and fired 4 hours for each color. I then added a gold rim on each piece, fired it 4 hours, cleaned it with phosphoric acid and added another gold ring. It took me three years working in spare hours. Two years after we were married we noticed that a saucer was missing. On returning to the college room, where we sat between art classes, we found it on the table where I had left it two years before. No one had touched it.

Silver Candelabra for Birthday

Our home has so many things that we bought for one another and always at the price we could afford which meant bargain hunting. Each has a story of it’s own. On a special birthday for Dot, I wanted something special and while traveling I found a pretty iron candelabra. I paid the lady $35 for the iron candelabra and then took it to the side and proceeded to clean it up a bit. To my surprise ( and the sales lady) it was sterling silver and weighed about 10 pounds. The lady just smiled and said “ I bought it as iron and paid for it like wise so it is yours and I’m glad for you”. A Pair of Ruth Faison Shaw finger paintings another surprising event took place in Fayetteville, N.C. I had been looking for any scrap of paper that Ruth Faison Shaw ( the originator of finger painting) had done. It seems that about all of her work was in museums, with a very few out that she had done for friends in past years before her death. I was having breakfast in a crowded cafe one morning and offered a seat at my table to a gentleman who could find no table vacant. The conversation somehow got around to finger painting and I told him how I was a great admirer of Ruth Faison Shaw and had searched for years to obtain even the smallest piece of her work. He replied “ I am her nephew and she lived in our home for quite awhile. She may have left something in one of the closets where she kept her supplies. I will look and if you are here tomorrow, I will let you know”. I could hardly wait for the next day and I was there early to be sure that I had a table. He came in about the same time as the previous day and I didn’t see that he had any pictures. He sat down and then pulled out two pictures about 12”x 12” from his coat pocket. They were a matching pair of finger paintings by Ruth Shaw and he had them rolled up in his coat. I could hardly restrain my excitement and asked what he wanted for them. “You were nice to me and I am glad to give them to you. They were in a closet and would probably have been thrown out eventually” He remarked.

Rock to Rest On

I have a big rock out in my back yard now. It was in the front yard at one time and I tried carrying it to the back of the lot to hide it in the shrubs. I drug, pried and dragged that rock until I had it beside a tree, just beyond the stoop in the back yard before I was tuckered out. While considering what to do with it next, my wife came out of the house and remarked, "what a pretty rock. It looks nice beside the tree". Beside the tree it remained, and I sit there at times musing about how my children and grand children will spend their life.