Just a little before my second concert, mom and dad announced to me one evening that mom was expecting a child. That news was a shock. Mom was 37 years old, and I thought she was too old to have another baby. I immediately went across the street to talk to my grandmother about the news. I’d figured that she already knew it, but was taken by surprise that she didn’t. I’m not sure she really believed me. It was true, however, and my sister was born in July of 1971. Her birth brought a whole new layer to our existences, especially since Crystal was born with severe cerebral palsy.
Mom was born in 1934. My grandparents lived in Louisville, Tennessee at that time, but I believe mom spent a lot of her early youth in Kentucky, where her daddy and several of my grandmother’s relatives worked in the Lynch coalmine. She was one of five sisters (one died in infancy) living under the same roof with many of granny’s said relatives. Sometime along the way the family lived between Madisonville and Vonore, where granddad was from, and sometime before or shortly after granddad was drafted into the army, the family lived in Loudon, which is where my grandmother had spent a lot of her childhood.
Granddad left for the service in 1944, on the day his fifth child was born. Before that year was over he had trained, shipped to Italy, been wounded and captured by Germans, and died a POW. Mom was only 10. Granddad was only 34. He was posthumously awarded The Bronze Star and Purple Heart. The war had been over for several years when his body was returned to the family for burial.
Even before granddad died the family had led a hard scrabble existence, and nothing changed after he was out of the picture, so mom was used to living on the edge. In fact, she’s lived like that in one way or another most of her life, including all of my childhood, and at times beyond. I can’t say we were destitute, especially since we had a house to live in, but the thin times were very lean. I think we were lucky that we processed a lot of our own food. In 1960 I remember granny and company buying a bunch of chickens for the freezer. My impression was that my family had expected the chickens to be packaged. They weren’t. The poultry waited with bound legs in the carport. In less than an hour granny had set up a makeshift block, got out the old, dull ax, and started chopping heads. With help from neighbors a packaging line was established from block to freezer. The operation took all day, but we ate chicken for a couple of years.
I can honestly say that my mom is both physically and mentally tough. If there was ever anyone equipped to handle the challenges of having a special needs child it’s my mom. She and my grandmother drove Crystal to physical therapy in Knoxville several times a week for several years. Mom had to organize with other special needs parents to push like hell to make the school system obey the law with regards to handicapped children. One county school superintendant once remarked to my mom that if the state required him to jump eight feet but he could only jump three, what more could be done? Well, more was eventually done, but not without constant pushing against the reluctance of those in power.
I think that my sister’s living nearly 38 years is as much a testament to mom’s iron will as any other factor. On a daily basis mom had to clean my sister’s immediate habitat and body, dress her, often several times each day, prepare and feed my sister all meals and snacks, as well as do all the usual tasks necessary to run a household. There were lots of other things too, as in all lives, and she handled most of them pretty well. If I had a hat on I’d tip it to her now.
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