Sunday, April 7, 2024

Chapter 6: 1935-1938, A miracle and the CCC

Dick Miller and a couple of his buddies were running along the tops of some huge bales of cotton that were sitting outside of the gin waiting to be shipped to the mills. “You scoundrels get down offa there this instant!” a man in bibbed overalls shouted from below. That was enough of a distraction to cause Dick to lose his balance, and he tumbled head first off of the stacked bales to the ground below.

2 The other boys scurried down and ran over to the spot where he had landed. Dick was lying there motionless. “Are you ok?” one shouted. “Get up, Dick, or we’re all gonna be in trouble!” another exclaimed.

3 There was no response. Buddy Wilcox finally had the nerve to roll him over and see if he was still breathing.

4 His forehead was red and purple and looked uneven, but Dick was still breathing. Just then, the man who had shouted at them stepped up behind them. “What’s goin on here boys?” he demanded.

5 “Our friend’s hurt bad, mister!” Buddy exclaimed. “Do you boys know where he lives?” the man asked. “Sure, we do,” Buddy answered for everyone.

6 “Carl, Tommy!” the man shouted toward the gin. “Get the truck and help me load this kid up and take him home.”

7 A few minutes later, two men drove up in a truck and quickly jumped out to help load the unconscious boy onto its open bed. “You,” the man pointed at Buddy. “You ride with me and show me where he lives.”

8 Buddy nodded and climbed into the passenger seat for the ride to Mittie’s house. “She’s gonna be madder than a wet hen,” he thought as the truck started to move.

9 When they arrived at the house, Buddy jumped out of the truck and ran up onto the front porch. “Miss Miller, Dick’s been hurt,” he shouted.

10 Mittie came out onto the porch staring at the form lying on the truck and wiping her hands on her dress. “Help me get him into the bed,” she said without flinching.

11 Dick’s forehead was now blue and purple and looked almost black along the uneven line that protruded from it. “Buddy, go get the doctor,” Mittie instructed. “Pearl, get me a cold cloth for your brother.”

12 She noticed that her son’s breathing sounded funny, and his body started shaking and convulsing. “Oh, Lord, let him be alright,” she silently prayed.

13 “He has fractured his skull, Miss Miller,” the doctor said after finishing his examination. “I’m afraid there’s not a whole lot we can do for him except pray. I’m sorry, but he may not make it through this evening.” With that, the doctor picked up his bag and headed for the door. “You can call me if there’s any change.”

14 As soon as he had left, Mittie turned to Raymond and said in a low voice, “Take your sister and go and fetch Grandma Mowry.” “Come on, Pearl,” Raymond said as he headed for the door.

15 He stopped in the doorway and looked back. “He’s gonna be alright, Mama,” he said with determination and then continued on his way.

16 Nobody knew how old Grandma Mowry really was. The old Black lady’s hair was snow white and her steps were slow but deliberate. She had been born into slavery, but she was a free woman now. Moreover, because of her skill in healing, she had gained some measure of respect - even among the White community of Huntsville.

17 She approached the unconscious boy and stood there looking at him for several minutes without saying a word. Then she placed both of her hands over the boy’s forehead and began to mumble a prayer.

18 “Lord, you has the power to heal this boy. I’m asking you in the power of Jesus’ name to make him whole. I don’t have the power or the strength to do this, but you do. Help him, Lord. Just help him. In Jesus name, we pray. A-men.”

19 She turned to Mittie and said, “You gotta believe!” “I do, Grandma, I do,” Mittie asserted. She thanked the old woman, gave her some canned peaches to take home with her and told Raymond to drive her home.

20 As she turned to leave, the color began to return to Dick’s face. As Raymond opened the front door for her, Dick opened his eyes. “I’m hungry,” he croaked. “Praise Jesus!” the old woman shouted as she stepped out of the house.

21 Within a week, he was on his feet again. He would, however, carry a ridge across the middle of his forehead for the rest of his life. A reminder of the fact that his skull had miraculously knit itself back together after an old Black lady had prayed over him.

22 Two years later, Dick was lying about his age so that he could go to work for the Civilian Conservation Corps. He was unemployed and single, but he was a year shy of his eighteenth birthday when he went to work for the New Deal program. Mittie reasoned that the family needed the money, and her son needed something constructive to do to keep him out of trouble.

23 He joined one of two companies that had been working on the new state park atop Monte Sano Mountain. The initial enlistment lasted for six months, but Dick quickly adjusted to his new circumstances. In fact, the food in the mess hall was better than anything he had had access to at home. There was actually meat to eat with the vegetables!

24 “You men are going to construct a picnic pavilion,” the foremen told them. “I’m sure that some of you have probably never held a hammer or a saw in your life, but don’t you worry about that. By the time you leave here, most of you will be skilled laborers, carpenters and plumbers.”

25 Dick was amazed at what these men had already accomplished. There were roads, trails and buildings everywhere. They had effectively transformed the mountain top into a recreational paradise for the enjoyment of Huntsville’s citizenry.

26 The work was hard. There were trees to clear, stumps to remove, ditches to dig, pipes to bury, concrete to pour and boards to hammer together. Nevertheless, most of the young men seemed to take pride in their work and appreciate the opportunity to do something for the entire community.

27 In their down time, there was also schooling. In fact, Dick had never had such a sustained and uninterrupted stint in a classroom in his life. He was able to sharpen his skills in reading, writing and arithmetic; and it didn’t cost him or his family one cent!

28 Moreover, he was paid thirty dollars a month for his work. Sure, twenty-five of those dollars were sent home in the form of an allotment, but he didn’t have many out of pocket expenses there anyway. He didn’t mind. Hence, when the opportunity to re-enlist rolled around, he jumped at the chance.

29 As the project neared completion in August of 1938, Dick celebrated with his coworkers and wondered what life would throw his way next. At any rate, no one could say that the last three years had been boring or uneventful. Dick would certainly never say that, but there was definitely a sense of expectation welling up within him. “There’s gotta be more out there than this,” he thought.


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