My Childhood and Youth
Growing up in the country
The Home of My Boyhood
This was my boyhood home, and I loved living there. At the time, I was not fully aware of how blessed I was. Our family was not rich, but I would not consider us poor. My father was always able to find work, whether as a carpenter, mechanic, or baker. Even though money was limited, we always made time for church and family.
Behind our house was a garden plot where we grew our own vegetables. On the right side of the house stood a fenced-in pen where my brother Charles and my father built a barn out of logs. It had stalls for the young calves and space for the cattle to graze. Inside the barn was a “corn crib,” where we usually stored the potatoes we grew.
Behind the house was also a chicken coop, with room for the chickens to roam and a place to gather the eggs they laid. In front of it stood a two-room structure where my mother stored the vegetables and fruit she canned. Later, my father used the back room as a smokehouse.
One summer, my sisters Dee and Gerry arranged a homemade shower. It consisted of a tin can with holes punched in the bottom. Because the sun shone directly on it, leaving a bucket of water in the sun for an hour or so made it warm enough for bathing. Someone would pour the water into the can, giving you a few moments to lather before more water was poured in for rinsing. It was a simple arrangement, but I remember thinking it was very clever.
I often went hunting and fishing with my brother and father. They taught me how to shoot a gun, dress the squirrels we had killed, and clean the fish we had caught. I formed friendships with cousins and boys I met at church. We played baseball together and sometimes went hunting together. Two of my cousins that I was close to were Terry and Doug. Terry's mom died early in his life, and his father eventually remarried. His stepmom had two girls so three Brumleys made it five children for Mrs. Addie Ethel to care for. I was amazed at how well they all got along. Terry and I would often hunt together. There is a photo of us and our string of squirrels that we brought home. Unfortunately Terry died too soon due to a blood clot in his leg caused by a tree limb when he was cleaning up his place after a storm. I really do miss him.
Doug and I had a very close relationship, doing many things together. He was the catcher for our baseball team, and relieved me in one game to preserve our victory over the Many team. His family moved to South Louisiana, but we kept in touch with letters. When he went into the army, we continued our correspondence. There is a photo below of us together at a Mt Zion homecoming.
There were places nearby to swim, and eventually I learned how to swim myself. One of our favorite places to swim and fish was on Lewis Creek, about two miles from the back of our house. The path was often overgrown, so we had to make our way through weeds and bushes. But when we arrived, the sight was breathtaking to a young boy.
At the place we called “Corner Hole,” the creek made a sharp turn to the right, almost as if someone had constructed it that way. The bank rose high above the water, but a path farther down led to the creek. During that season, the water was usually low, and part of the creek bed was dry. We would cross to the other side, where we could camp for a while and eat whatever food and drink we had brought with us.
The creek was very deep at the “Corner.” Since I was too young for my feet to touch the bottom, I usually stayed in the shallow parts. But one day I decided to cross the creek at a narrower place that seemed, in my thinking, easy to cross.
I was wrong.
Immediately, I was completely submerged and fighting for my life. Then I felt someone pulling me upward by my hair. It was my sister Dee, who happened to be standing close enough to pull me from the water. She would not be the last person to save me from drowning.
My grandmother Lites lived across the road. Behind the pasture was a pond where we often went swimming. Foolishly, I ventured into deep water there as well and went under. Once again, Dee was there to pull me out.
Did I mention that Dee and I had a close relationship?
We were not only close in age, but we also spent a great deal of time together. From the time I was born, she seemed to be my best friend. She would read to me, which I am told I loved. In the spring, we would go into the woods to pick violets growing wild beneath the pine and oak trees.
My relationship with Dee would continue to grow throughout her life. When I look back now, I see that our boyhood home was more than a house, a garden, a barn, and a creek. It was the place where family, faith, work, adventure, and love were woven together into the beginning of my story.
Reflection
I did not understand it then, but I understand it better now: we may not have had much in the way of wealth, but we were rich in the things that mattered most. We had work, faith, family, food from the garden, and time to share with one another. Those blessings became part of me, and they remain among the treasures of my life.
