Chapter 15
(From
the 1st week of January 1967 till late September 1967. I am
seriously injured. It takes months to recover.)
After
moving from Vernon in January 1965, spending Christmas and New Year’s back there
with family and friends takes on a deeper meaning for me. Now for the second
time, I thoroughly enjoy those holidays at home and head to Auburn when they
come to an end.
Having
been away from college life for 7 months, the 1st week in January I
am so
glad to pull Mr. Mars’ nice little tan Falcon into Mrs. Taylor’s
driveway, unload my cardboard boxes of college things into my nice room in her
lovely house, go back to work at the cafeteria, register for Winter Quarter,
and start classes. Such joy it is to be back in my daily short walking commute
across the president’s lawn. I wonder if he missed me.
This is my first time to be on campus with
Miss Mars. As soon as Friday comes, about 4 PM or so, I drive Mr. Mars’ Falcon
to his daughter’s dorm, go in, have her paged, and she comes down to the lobby.
‘You keep the car for the weekend so you and your girl friends can run around
in it.’
“Really?!”
‘Yes,
really.’ I gave her the key and walked over half a mile to “my” cafeteria to
joyfully work the supper meal. Miss Mars did not live in 1 of the girls’ dorms
where I worked. Her dorm was farther away and had its own cafeteria.
When
I first entered Auburn University, I got a D parking sticker from campus police
and slapped it inside my 55 Chevy’s back windshield. D parking places were the
lowest priority on the campus periphery farthest from central campus. A and B
parking, most conveniently located, were for professors and staff. C parking
was a little further out and was for upper classmen. D sticker cars (me) were
not even allowed to drive thru main campus (A, B, and C areas) between 7 AM and
5 PM on weekdays. (I might not have those times exact.)
With an increasing number of cars becoming a
problem, a new law (hated by students) had now been proclaimed. No freshman is
allowed to bring a 4-wheel vehicle to this town unless he lives more than a
half mile from campus. (That law brought out the lying sinful nature of several
freshmen guys who tried their best to lie about where they resided in order to
bring a car to Auburn.)
Anyway,
freshman Miss Mars was not permitted to bring a car to Auburn. Had she been
allowed to do so, likely her daddy would have given her this Falcon for her
school car. I had not yet made any car payments to Mr. Mars. So, in
appreciation to him, each Friday I took the car to Miss Mars for her to use
thru Sunday night. The next time I saw Mr. Mars in person, he kindly thanked me
for doing so, for letting his daughter use his car.
What
a kind gentleman! I am most blessed to have his good, generous
influence in my life!
This
January I turn 21 years old, now a full-fledged adult. I am 2 years or so
behind the normal person in maturing mentally. By now, I am beginning to feel
like I am college age. For the past 7 months, I traveled much, did various
roofing work and other jobs relating to buildings. I supervised roofing crews.
All this helped me feel like I was maturing much and becoming an adult. It
felt good.
Navy
ROTC classified me as a junior for their classes (tho I had missed the 1st
term back in the fall and the university still classified me as a sophomore).
All junior and senior ROTC midshipmen who had taken the “Marine option” to
become Marine officers, were lumped into 1 class now. The Marine major taught
it.
There
were only 7 of us in that class this winter. There were 2 senior midshipmen
studying to be Marine officers. There were 5 of us juniors, John ②, Jerry, Jim, “Goofy” and
me. I remember all their last names, but it is best not to publish them here. I
don’t recall Goofy’s actual first name because we all called him that nickname.
These 4 juniors are my age. John and Jerry were natural leaders and good
potential for Marine Corps officers. John was gung ho. He wanted to be a Marine
infantry platoon leader (2nd Lieutenant) in Viet Nam and kill as
many Viet Cong as he could. Later, he will be doing that exact duty in Nam. But
John will only be there about 5 weeks before an enemy kills him.
Most
happy and relieved to start classes again in early January, I diligently
dig into all my studies in order to pass. I greatly enjoy my private room in
Mrs. Taylor’s nice house and working at the cafeteria, walking there thru
University President Philpot’s yard early each morning. About mid-February
Justus tells me that he was going home to Vernon for the weekend and asks me to
ride with him. OK. Mid-Friday afternoon, Sharon (a girl from Reform, Alabama)
also rode with us to Reform, about 30 miles south of Vernon. I spend the
weekend at Daddy’s and leave Vernon for Auburn mid-afternoon on Sunday, riding
with Justus.
We
stop in Reform and pick up Sharon. When we do so, I climb into the back seat of
Justus’ car. “Get up here in the front with us so we 3 can talk together.” Two
days before, on Friday, we 3 had ridden in the front (bench) seat together,
talking, laughing together and such. Now Justus insists we 3 sit together in
front as before.
‘No,
I want to rest and relax on the way back. Might lie down and sleep some.’
Justus let it go at that and I sat in back. That
act was of the Lord, thank God. It either saved mine and Sharon’s lives, or
saved us 2 from much more serious injuries than we received in the upcoming
deadly accident.
Heading
toward Auburn, we quieted down after some time. I rested and snoozed some. As
twilight fell we were nearing Auburn passing thru Tallassee. Sharon, in the
front passenger seat, had turned sideways toward Justus and was dozing with her
head laid on her left arm laid along the top of the bench seat. (There were no
headrests on the car seats back then.) There were no seatbelt laws.
Justus’ car had seatbelts, but none of us was buckled up. To-o-o-o bad that we were not.
Likely seatbelts would have saved all three of us a lot of pain and
misery.
I glanced the time on a clock on a building in
Tallassee. ‘Looks like we might get to Auburn just in time for me to make the
First Baptist’s Sunday evening service,’ I thought silently. But I didn’t make
that service at all. In fact, I missed church the next 3 or 4 Sundays, lying on
a hospital bed.
We
were traveling on the main highway thru Tallassee. Because dead men tell no
tales, no one can know for sure why the driver who hit us head-on was on our
side of the highway. He was alone in his car. We were following a pickup truck.
From the back seat, I happened to be watching the road ahead at the time. Ahead
of the truck in front of us, I saw headlights coming toward us in our lane.
Justus had not yet seen them. My brain shifted into super fast mode.
‘If I yell at Justus, I do not think he would have time to take evasive action to swerve out of the way in time. We are going to hit head-on no matter what. And if I yell at Justus now, it will awaken Sharon with a start and fright, causing her to jerk straight up in that front seat and turn facing ahead to see what is going on. Then when we hit head-on, likely that would thrust her face thru the windshield!’
All
that fleeted thru my mind in just a very short moment. I accepted the
inevitable as I watched the pickup truck in front of us swerve to the left
trying to avoid the oncoming car in our lane. The lady driver of the pickup was
partially successful. I watched the death dealing car sideswipe the right side
of her truck violently, sending her truck flying upwards and to the left. Then
the oncoming car hit our car head-on. Justus had a 1962 (I think) Plymouth, a
large heavy car. The car that hit us was similarly large and heavy.
The
rapid, short explosive sound of breaking glass and crushing metals was awful.
The impact was most powerful, causing the fronts of both cars to abruptly rise
up 2 or 3 feet and then immediately fall back to the pavement in a dead stop,
neither engine running. Suddenly all was
very quiet and painful. It was no fun at all. My dear reader friend, pray earnestly that you never experience such
trauma.
In those
days, automobiles were typically heavier than nowadays. The impact threw me
against the back of the front (bench) seat with such force that it broke the
front seat loose from all 4 of its moorings to the floor of the car. (The front
seat of a 1962 Plymouth was securely anchored to the floor.) That force pushed
the front seat against Justus and Sharon who were plastered against the
steering wheel and dashboard respectively.
The
force of the impact violently threw me forward into that front seat. It also
threw my torso downward from my head and upper torso. The downward force of
that rapid motion crushed the 12th dorsal vertebra in my back and
compressed that crushed vertebra 25%. Both of my feet and shins were forced
under the back of that front bench seat I broke loose from its moorings,
peeling the skin off several inches of the front of both shins. Thus severe
pain from my lower back and both shins greeted me in the ensuing quiet after
the impact. It is nothing short of a miracle that it did not snap both bones in
each lower leg and thrust those bones thru the skin in a compound facture of
each leg.
Justus’
mouth struck the steering wheel, breaking the steering wheel and knocking out 2
or so of his teeth. His forehead hit the windshield, putting a “spider web”
design into the safety glass and giving Justus a concussion. Sharon slammed
sideways into the dashboard, breaking her right upper arm that struck the
dashboard. The side of her head also put a “spider web” into windshield, giving
her a concussion in return. Because of their concussions, neither of them has
any memory of the accident itself. I well remember it all.
Due
to his concussion, Justus started constantly repeating, “What happened?”
I
would repeatedly answer, ‘We had an accident.’ Or, ‘A car hit us.’
But
the memory of his question and my answer immediately evaporated from his mind.
So he and I repeated that “drill” many times, to my dismay. (It made me want to
hit him over the head, but it certainly wasn’t the time for that.)
Sharon
soon started reciting aloud the Lord’s Prayer.
The
unfortunate driver who hit us was 50-60 years old or so, possibly somewhat of a
heavy man with age. When his chest slammed against his steering wheel, the
impact broke some of his ribs. One broken rib went against his heart, possibly
piercing his heart. That killed him almost instantly.
Patrolling
on the same highway about half a mile behind us, and traveling in our
direction, was a State Trooper on duty. (Divine Providence) So he arrived about
40 seconds after the impact just as I was sort of settling down from the
violent impact. I had no concussion. I remember everything. In half a minute or
so, I am looking out the side back window of our car at the patrol car beside
us with its lights flashing and the State Trooper driver talking into a mike
held to his mouth as he looked at each human soul in the cars and broadcast the
accident, calling for help.
Houses
lined each side of the highway. Residents came running out of their houses just
after Sunday suppertime when they heard the loud impact, running up to the 2
cars and the 1 pickup truck about the same time the State Trooper arrived. (The
lady driving the pickup was without injury or had only very slight injuries.)
Each resident did anything he or she could to help, which wasn’t much. They
focused on the driver who hit us, as it was apparent he was injured the worst.
Several residents gathered around our car. “They say they think the other driver
is dead!” I hear one of them say.
‘That
could just as easily have been me,’ I thought silently and most
seriously.
“Where
are you hurt?” Someone would ask each of us.
‘My
back and both lower legs are hurt.’
“I
think my arm is broken,” Sharon whimpered.
A
man looked at her right side jammed up against the dashboard, her broken right
arm having pushed an arm-size round curve into the dashboard of the car. “That
arm is badly broken,” he said gravely to another person near him. “Just look at
how it’s twisted.” Upon hearing that frightening news, frightened Sharon
whimpered more loudly and desperately.
Hearing
that, the same man quickly adjusted his speech, trying to calm and comfort her.
“Maybe it’s not broken. Maybe it’s just twisted.”
He’s
doing his best to calm her, I thought.
Soon
I hear the wail of an ambulance’s siren as it raced to us. They were not sure
the dead man was dead. So they put him into the ambulance, considering him to
be most in need of help when actually his soul and spirit had already departed
that place.
They
soon put Justus and me into a police car and took us to a hospital in it. I did
as I was told as 2 men (one on each side of me) held up each of my arms at the
armpits and helped me walk to the police car and then I sat upright
riding in it, all that with a back
injury.
At that young age, I readily did what older adults in charge told me to do. But I should have slowly and gently laid myself down in the back seat of Justus’ car and told all who approached me, ‘I have a bad back injury. Do not touch me or move me till medical personnel can ease me out in this prone position and place me onto a stretcher!’
“College
boy Richard, do you think they aggravated your back injury by walking you and
having you ride to the hospital sitting upright?”
‘Don’t
know. But they sure didn’t
help it!’
The
one ambulance soon returned for Sharon and took her to the hospital. All 4 of
us were taken to the same local hospital in Tallassee. Lying on a stretcher in
a hallway, I heard loud sobbing and wailing as close relatives of the dead man
(who had rushed to the hospital) learned that he was dead. (He was a bachelor.)
They
x-rayed and examined us three. Justus stayed in that hospital overnight and was
released the next day. Because Sharon and I had busted bones, they soon laid us
side by side on individual stretchers in the back of an ambulance and with its
emergency lights flashing all the way, hauled us both to a Southern Baptist
hospital in Montgomery. Due to her concussion, thru out the hour or so ride,
Sharon “entertained” me by repeating many times the same questions and
sentences to me. Truly it was a night to be remembered, one that you do not want to experience.
It must have been about 9 PM when they got me into a room in the
hospital in Montgomery. They laid me on my back on the bed with no pillar. My
back and both shins throbbed in pain. Only the night staff was on the job in
the hospital. I soon told someone I was terribly hungry and needed supper.
“Supper
mealtime has long past. Next will be breakfast.”
‘I
haven’t had supper and I sure am hungry.’
“I’ll
see what I can do,” the kind sympathizing nurse said. She soon came back with a
half-pint carton of milk and a small pack of crackers. “This is the best I can
do,” she said apologetically as she gave them to me. I thanked her and ate and
drank every bit of the light snack. Possibly, she bought it from a vending
machine in the hospital with her own money. Bless her kind soul.
Hospital
staff asked me for Daddy’s address and phone number. ‘If you’re going to call
my house, let me talk to them first.’ That would ease the shock and assure my
folks I was able to talk on the phone. They would feel much better talking to
me in person. The hospital staff firmly and flatly refused my request.
I do
not recall if they talked with Daddy or Janiece. Upon listening to the hospital
staff’s report on the phone, my family member asked, “Should we come
tonight?”
“If
he was (sic) my son, I would come!” Right there was one of the main reasons I
wanted to talk in person.
I
wanted to tell Daddy or Janiece in person. ‘There is nothing you can do here
now to help me. You don’t have to come any time soon at all. If you do want to
come soon, try to get a good night’s rest tonight and head out after breakfast
tomorrow.’
But the
system of this world often prohibits such sensible actions. I wasn’t
allowed to speak. So listening to the hospital staff’s advice, my cousin
(Bobby) brought Daddy and Janiece in his car, arriving about 3 or 4 AM Monday,
sleep-deprived and weary from the middle of the night trip. They visited me
first and then Sharon there in the hospital in Montgomery. Then they drove to
the funeral home in Tallassee where the dead driver was (who hit our car),
offering condolences to his family. (It is after 9 AM when they arrive there.)
Soon after, my three family members headed back for Vernon that afternoon ever
so tired and sleepy.
This
was my 1st time to be hospitalized. During my hospital stay (about 3
weeks) our church’s Pastor Hollis brought Daddy and they 2 visited me. Daddy
and my brother Sidney came together once. Janiece and Cousin Bobby came
together again. Mr. Mars came 2 or 3 times. Soon the Marine major (my ROTC
instructor) came from Auburn. Two of my Marine classmates, John ② and Jerry, drove over from
Auburn and visited me.
My
doctor told me I would have to lie flat of my back on that hospital bed with no
pillar for about 3 weeks to allow that crushed vertebra to start
healing. Then they would fit me with a back brace and release me from the
hospital. I asked the doctor if I would be physically fit to be a Marine
officer when recovery from the injury was complete. He carefully worded a
somewhat vague answer. Thus I concluded it was definitely hanging in doubt,
whether I could now become a Marine officer and a pilot.
Thus,
I now lay abed stunned. Last year, I was out of college the
last 7 months of the year. Thus it was a great relief and joy to finally
get back into college just a short time ago in early January, getting my higher
education back underway again. But ever so soon, this accident puts me
out of school again with a serious injury. ‘Will I graduate from this
university? If I do, will I be physically able to become a Marine officer and
pilot?’ God had created me with a strong body. Was that never again to be, for
the rest of my days on earth? My stunned mind seriously turned over such
thoughts during my 24 hour-a-day free time.
Staring
up at that hospital room ceiling for 3 weeks caused me to think most seriously
about life. I thought on that other driver dying instantly just a few feet from
me. We 3 souls in our car came close to being killed. Life is most fragile
(can be instantly and unexpectedly snuffed out) and
there’s certainly no promise of another minute of life, especially of
another day. I resolved to live for God, being soundly reminded that death can
overtake any soul at any time. Many of those nights I dreamed of the accident,
the horrible sound of the glass and metal upon impact coming back ever so clear
in nightmare-like dreams. It took several months for those dreams to completely
cease.
On
the day the hospital dismissed me, Tommy drove over from Auburn and took me
back there. I had left the Falcon car with Miss Mars before leaving Auburn for
Vernon. So she got to use it over 3 weeks. Tommy took me to her dorm and she
gave me the car key. I part from them and drive alone to Mrs. Taylor’s house.
That dear grandmother was so glad to see me and happy to have me back in her
house. I was most happy to be back.
I
had missed too much class time to complete my courses this winter quarter. I
had to go thru the process of dropping all of them, much paperwork in various
offices on campus. In the Marine major’s office, I asked him to let me drop a
year back in Navy ROTC and in September become a part of the class behind me.
He agreed and allowed me to do so. I see this painful accident as a part of God
further delaying my college education and thus keeping me out of Viet Nam.
I
stayed at Auburn till the last meal was served at the dining hall at the end of
the winter quarter (mid-March or so). I think it was at this time that I gained
the job of cashier there, sitting at the end of the serving line, punching each
girl’s meal ticket and checking each girl’s food tray to make sure they didn’t
take more than was authorized. This job paid $1 or more per day in addition to
my meals. It was the most coveted job among us workers. I thank God for
giving it to me.
I
drove that Falcon to Vernon and spent the week or so of spring break at Daddy’s
house. Relatives and friends are glad to see me alive and recovering. Soon,
back I go to Mrs. Taylor’s house, the cashier job at the dining hall,
registration, and the start of Spring Quarter 1967.
Doctor’s
orders were as follows. Walk as little as possible and practically no other
physical activity. Lie flat of your back in bed 10 to 12 hours each night and
as much as you can during the day to keep pressure off that damaged vertebrae.
When you are not lying down, always wear that brace tightly clinched up! You
may take brief showers without the brace, limiting your movements as much as
possible and move slowly and gently. I strove to follow the doctor’s orders,
knowing it was for my good, tho it sure cramped my active lifestyle.
Campus
police issued me a C Zone sticker for my car because of my physical “handicap”.
With it, I could freely drive thru all of campus and park in C areas located
more conveniently than the “far out” D areas. I took a somewhat “light” study
load, enjoyed the pleasant spring weather, the nice cashier’s job at the
cafeteria, relaxed, and lay abed many hours with both hands holding up a
textbook over my “face up” prone position as I tried to study.
One
course I took was an “English” class of “Speech”. The Prof taught us how to
properly make a good and effective speech. Over a period of 2 months or so, I
prepared several speeches (informative, persuasive, etc.), stood before the
class and presented each speech (as did each of my classmates). After each
speech given by a student, Prof critiqued it before the entire class, so we all
could “glean” from that critique. (Prof also graded each speech we gave.) I
liked that class and made good grades on my speeches. It all helped prepare me to preach sermons.
During
spring quarter, I did not dress in my Navy midshipman’s uniform because I was
wearing that back brace. Thus I did not drill one day each week with the other
midshipmen. But I did take the Marine course of 3 classroom hours each week,
Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays. I also had to be present each Tuesday and
Thursday on lab day and drill day, tho I didn’t participate in drilling.
Near
the end of Spring Quarter, 2nd Lieutenant Wright ③ dropped by Auburn U. and
talked to our “Marine” class about The Basic School training he had just
completed at Quantico. He had been in Navy ROTC here. I had known him as a
midshipman. As he talked to us, he was under orders to soon go to Viet Nam
where he would become a platoon leader in the war. Because all of us “Marine
option” midshipmen he addressed would soon be going to The Basic School at
Quantico, he briefed us on things there. “As an officer, you will be required
to buy US savings bonds,” was one thing he told us. The military required that
as a duty of ours to help keep our country strong. Lt. Wright added, “My wife
can make good use of mine,” hinting that he didn’t expect to return from Viet
Nam alive. He was right about that. He was soon killed in Viet Nam.
Back
in early March when the doctor fitted me with the back brace and dismissed me
from the hospital, he told me I would have to wear the brace 5 to 6 months.
Recovery was expected to take that long. Thus I could not do roofing work this
summer. So I attended the summer quarter at Auburn. Since I was a tiny boy of 6 years
old or so, this was the first summer in my life (at age 21) that I did not
slave away at manual labor all summer. That made for a pleasant summer,
but I prefer slaving away at hard labor to lazily recuperating from a broken
back.
Mrs.
Taylor wanted to use my room for her summer guests. So I went again to the
housing referral office on campus seeking a room to rent. A professor was
managing its desk at the time. One other male student (Jerry) was in the office
at that time, looking for a room. Likely that professor told us what rooms were
available and where they were located. All I remember now is that he told us he
rented the 3 basement rooms in his house to male students, 1 student per room.
One room was presently taken. Two rooms were available.
Both
Jerry and I were interested. The professor took us there in his car and Jerry
and I took those 2 rooms upon seeing them. I do not recall the professor’s
name. I lodged in his basement for this summer term. Jerry was a graduate
student, married, living in Atlanta, Georgia. He was employed with a good job
(school teacher, I think) and chose to study this summer. After high school,
Jerry had served 2 years or so as an enlisted Marine. So he and I frequently
chatted about the Marines, and his tour of duty on Okinawa.
We 3
guys parked our cars behind this nice house and entered the basement from the
back of the house built on an incline that sloped away from the street. We each
had our private rooms and shared a bath in the basement. We would see our
landlord’s family daily in passing. Again, I am residing in a family
atmosphere. That greatly enhances college life for me.
Once
the landlord and his wife asked me to “baby sit” their 3 sons while they 2
attended some evening function. I don’t know why they chose me over the other 2
guys. I felt that I was the least qualified for the job. But I agreed to do so.
That was my 1st time to baby sit. I had no experience and was
apprehensive of being responsible for their kids.
At
the appointed time I went up to their living room where all five of them
presently were. The couple briefed me very well and went out. The oldest son
was about 11 and the youngest was about 5. We played board games and such in their
living room. I put the youngest 2 to bed first at the time their parents had
designated. The middle son popped out of bed a time or two, begging me to let
him keep playing with us (his oldest brother and me). Their parents had warned
me of such. I was quite firm. Then I ordered the oldest to bed at his
prescribed time. I sat up in the living room till the parents returned around
midnight. I was most relieved that all was safe and sound when the parents
returned. (Baby-sitting or child sitting is not my specialty.)
This
summer of 1967 was the 1st of 2 times that I attended the Summer
Quarter at Auburn. I especially liked summer sessions. At that time, only about
25% of the student body attended in the summer, giving the campus a somewhat
deserted, easy-going, relaxed atmosphere. The few professors didn’t seem to
push us so hard during the summer. The campus and town had much less traffic,
which meant fewer problems. I again took a somewhat light study load this
quarter, enjoyed being around the few girls that ate in the cafeteria, relaxed
and took it easy on my healing back.
This
summer, I take a “Debate” class, sort of a sequel to my previous “Speech”
class. I have a different Prof for Debate, a young Prof who delights
to sharpen our debating skills. Usually we debated in teams of about 3
students, “arguing” with a team of 3 other classmates about the topic Prof
assigned to us, each student being graded on each debate he or she participated
in. Each team would argue “in favor of” the subject. Then Prof would make us
switch and argue just as fiercely “against” the subject. I felt like a hypocrite
and a politician, switching sides like that in a debate. Like Speech
class, Debate class also honed my preaching ability. Thank God that when I preach,
I preach God’s Side only and never switch sides in hypocritical fashion.
My
basement room was more than a mile from the dining hall. So instead of walking
to work, I drive to the dining hall early each morning, and then drive onto main
campus for classes with my C Zone sticker. (In Summer Quarter, fewer cars on
campus usually insured that C Zone parking spaces were available.) Many days, I
did not go back to my room till after I worked supper at the cafeteria. There
is no Navy ROTC classes or activities during the summer term. That simplifies
college life for me this summer.
After
my last class of the afternoon, I often drive to the cafeteria and sit at a table
there studying till suppertime. The air conditioning is most comfortable. Each
afternoon, I freely help myself to a jello salad (or a piece of cake or pie)
with a glass of milk. I recall when I was about 14 years old watching “Lassie”
on TV. On one Lassie show, when Timmy came home from school, his mother greeted
him kindly with “How about some cookies and milk.” Growing up, I never
got such greetings on returning home. Now, it’s nice to come to the cafeteria
after school and freely help myself to such goodies.
Once
every two months or so, I drive to my doctor’s office in Montgomery for a
“checkup.” As that vertebra heals, he allows me to start getting into the water
this summer. “Slowly and easily paddle around. No extreme movements. Do not
exert yourself forcefully, even in the water.”
So,
many afternoons I would drive out to lovely Lake Chewacla and slowly paddle
around in the water for 2 hours or so. Exercising began to build back the much
strength I had lost by being inactive. That workout built up an appetite. I
would drive back to the cafeteria and help myself to any of the several foods
available between meals as I studied, then soon eat a big supper, and then
punch the meal tickets of those Southern Belles as they came thru the food
line. It was a relaxed, fun summer that I enjoyed immensely.
When
I dropped out of Winter Quarter due to the injury, I got no tuition refund from
the university. So I lost all the money I had put into that school term. I was
not receiving roofing wages this summer. I had borrowed money from the bank
again. I had not paid kind Mr. Mars anything on the car. My finances
were in poorer shape than ever as a college boy. My gloomy financial situation
hung over me like a dark cloud, especially with me being
physically handicapped at the time.
Because
Justus was not at fault in the accident, he immediately went to a Tallassee
lawyer for advice. (Likely in a nutshell the advice was: “Let’s get all the
money we can, from anyone and everyone we can.”) The lawyer soon paid me a
visit in the hospital in Montgomery and wrote my account of the accident as I
related it to him. Of course, he didn’t fail to ask me if I had a lawyer. I
didn’t. “Do you want me to represent your interest in this case?” I certainly
did. Likely it was the same day he visited Sharon in the hospital and became
her lawyer also, representing us three.
The
deceased driver who had hit us had absolutely no vehicle insurance. He was a
bachelor. He had practically no estate to leave behind for our lawyer to go after.
So our lawyer first sued Justus’ car insurance company on their “uninsured
motorist clause”. That clause stated that if an uninsured motorist was at fault
and caused us injury and damage, then Justus’ insurance company became his
insurance company also. Likely it was late July or early August this summer
when our lawyer got Justus, Sharon and me a settlement in this manner, and out
of court.
After
the lawyer took his nice size cut, my own personal share was about $2300. (Till
now, the most money I had ever had at one time was about $500.) This income was
an immense relief to me in my
tightest of financial situations. I breathed free air again (financially). It
was most refreshing and relieving.
I
paid off my bank loan in full.
I
had not yet been able to pay Mr. Mars any of the $400 I owed him for that
Falcon car. So I mailed him a check for $500. I thanked him for his quiet
patience over such a long period of time with me making no payments. He wrote
back to say that the extra $100 was not necessary. I told him I wanted him to
keep it. I am glad that he kept it. Tho I wasn’t rich, Mr. Mars deserved that
for his much goodness to me. I wanted him to have it.
When
I received that $2300, about a month of classes remained till summer term
ended. I became completely free of financial debt. I presently had more than
enough money for the Fall Quarter. Because I had known much extreme poverty in
my life almost continuously until now, it felt so good for that “great burden” to
now be lifted. For the remainder of my college days, (though not rich)
at no time will I be “extremely cramped” financially. For the 1st
time in my short life, I can breathe somewhat easy, financially.
You well know how that one factor alone makes life much more pleasant and
carefree! I was most relieved and happy this summer to get that $2300.
My
doctor was permitting me to swim more vigorously so I did that often on the
lake. Likely it was right at the end of Summer Quarter (late August), when I
visited Doc and he told me the vertebra had mended completely and I no longer
needed to wear the back brace. That was wonderful news that I had been waiting
for. I greatly enjoyed this Summer Quarter at Auburn, especially after
getting the $2300.
Thank
Thee, Lord Jesus, for healing me and restoring me to good health and strength,
and for providing abundantly.
College
days this summer had a different (and enjoyable) flavor, living in the
professor’s basement in a lovely subdivision out in the woods. I have fond
memories of Summer School at Auburn University 1967.
There
was about 4 weeks between the end of Summer Quarter and the start of Fall
Quarter in late September. With a little money in my pocket now, I wasn’t very
desirous to slave away at the hot, dirty roofing work. But Mr. Mars called on
me to work, wanting a good worker. So I did roofing for that good man most of
those 4 weeks. I was thankful to get the income and to enjoy much time with him
and his family till the fall term started in late
September 1967.