As I wrote earlier, my two best friends were Del and Chris. They had been recording some cover songs on Chris's four-track at his house. We started talking about doing some original songs. I had written songs since the fourth grade, and Chris was very good in writing music, as well as lyrics on his own. Del was a very good singer. The three of us decided to form a group.
There were a few names that we considered including Rave On and Eastside Project. The one that stuck was The Cobbwebs. It kind of had a double meaning. We were writing songs that were inspired by groups from the 1960's, so the meaning of "cobwebs" made sense for old sounding songs. Del had relatives in Georgia named Cobb. One had been a Southern general during the Civil War, so we settled on The Cobbwebs. Also, there was a group called The Cobwebs, so we had to add the other "B".
Chris played lead guitar and drums. Del was the lead singer, and he also played bass guitar and keyboards. Chris also mixed the tracks, as he majored in technical recording at Memphis State. On a trip out there, Del and I joined Chris to record two songs on a professional soundboard in a real studio. I learned how to work the board and produce the songs. Even with Chris's four-track, he made the two of them sound like a full band.
We heard of a project that a local radio station was producing featuring bands from the Columbia area. We submitted a song and was accepted for a CD and cassette tape release called "The Burning of Columbia". We went to a guy, who had us sign a contract. It said that they would record our song at their studio, and we would have to pay them to get promotional photos made. We pooled our money, and got that done. They never used the pictures. When we got into the studio, Chris wanted to work their soundboard, but they told him no. The recording lasted almost all of a Sunday afternoon. The radio station released a cassette. We never saw a CD. We were the last song on side two of the tape. The song was called "Cry Baby Cry", but when it was listed on the tape, it listed "Cobbwebs-Cry Baby". We weren't pleased with that either, but we had signed a contract. We did get the radio station to play our song a couple of times, and another radio station in town played it, and we were interviewed about it.
After Del and Chris moved to Nashville, they continued recording songs. I continued to write lyrics and send to them. We were looking for a record label to sign us. They would send out sample tapes to labels along with sheet music. The labels would return the tapes because of unsolicited material, but they would keep the sheet music. I sent one to Elton John, but the tape was returned. I also sent one to Yoko Ono. She kept it. We gave a tape to Gary Lewis. He listened to it, and said he liked it. We sent one to Peter Noone, and he said he liked to play it while driving in his car. We started getting some buzz that our music was good. One independent label wanted to represent us. We put a cd together of 20 original songs and called it "Magic Boat".
I wrote six songs that were included on the CD. In 2001, the label sent copies to mostly college radio stations and some foreign stations in Europe. We sold a few copies in Oregon, but mostly in Europe. At the end of 2001, we were rated in several top-ten lists in Italy, Bosnia, Germany, Switzerland, Spain, Portugal, and other countries. Two of my songs got a lot of airplay in Europe--"She Said No" and "She Said Yes". The first was a song about a guy asking a girl for a date, but she said no. The second was a song about a guy asking a girl for a date and expecting her to say no, but she says yes, and then he doesn't know what to do next. These two songs in effect became our single release.
In regards to labels keeping our sheet music, we were concerned that they would steal our songs, so everything was copyrighted. The law basically says that two songs have to have eight measures the same in order before it can be said that the two songs are the same. We listened to a lot of radio after submitting our songs. One song had six measures the same but not eight. Too bad. We could have made a gazillion dollars had it been eight.
Our independent label wanted us to perform at a oldies festival in California. We wanted to go, but it became almost impossible, since two guys played all the instruments and did all of the vocals. The promoter said that he could provide a backing band for us, but we only would have two weeks to get that all together, so we passed on the festival. Soon thereafter, we had some creative and marketing differences within the band, so we split up. Chris and I were still writing songs. In 2007, Del and Chris got back together and recorded another CD. In 2008, the three of us got back together in Nashville and recorded a third CD. Those last two have not been released formally, but you can find some of the songs on social media, if you look hard enough.
Wednesday, December 26, 2018
Saturday, November 10, 2018
Macca
It was 1993. Paul McCartney was doing his New World Tour. It was announced that he was going to play in Atlanta at the Omni. Del, Chris and I had to go. After all, this was Paul McCartney. A Beatle. We had seen Ringo Starr in Charlotte earlier, so it just was a must see for us. I got tickets on the left side of the stage in the stands. We made reservations at a "motel" outside of Atlanta near Snapfinger Rd. (One should always snap their fingers when passing by Snapfinger). The concert was scheduled for May 1st.
A couple of weeks before going to Atlanta, they announced that Paul would be coming to Columbia to play a show at Williams-Brice Stadium on May 7th. We already had our tickets for Atlanta, but we couldn't pass up seeing him again, so we got tickets for that show too. Our tickets were in the upper deck of the stadium.
The State Newspaper put out a call for anyone with a big Beatles collection to contact them about running a story on them. We reached out, because at that time, our combined collection was valued somewhere around $200,000. They scheduled a time for us to come into their offices and bring our most expensive stuff. We brought picture sleeves, memorabilia, and other stuff. They put us in a room with a sheet on the floor. They wanted us to lie down on the sheet with our collection around us. The photographer stood on a ladder and shot down at us. We had to be very careful not to lay on our stuff to damage it. A reporter interviewed us on how we got interested in The Beatles. They used a quote of mine where I said that I was zapped through the TV screen, when I saw them on the Ed Sullivan Show in 1964. As we were finishing up the interview, I asked the reporter not to use my age in the article. I was acting, and I was doing roles that were younger than I was. I looked younger than my age. The reporter said he would do as I asked. When the article came out, it said "Walter Durst, 39". I was livid. I called the reporter, and he said that his editor made him put my age in the article because it was "company policy". I was irked to put it mildly.
Anyway, we went to Atlanta and saw the show. It was great. We sang along with almost all the songs. A few months later, I got audio and video copies of that show from a guy in Alabama. It was good, except for telling his friend to go get him a beer just as Paul finished singing "Yesterday".
The show in Columbia was almost exactly the same as the one in Atlanta, including all the intros to the songs that Paul spoke about. The only difference was in Atlanta he had a false start on "Michelle", and a scenery piece fell down during "Paperback Writer". They had told everyone not to bring audio or video devices into the concert in Columbia. There turned out to be no one checking for that. One could have brought an entire TV crew in, and no one would have said anything. I didn't get a copy of that show, but I do have a video of the soundcheck.
It was amazing to see Paul McCartney. I saw him again in 2015 and sang along to all of the songs again.
A couple of weeks before going to Atlanta, they announced that Paul would be coming to Columbia to play a show at Williams-Brice Stadium on May 7th. We already had our tickets for Atlanta, but we couldn't pass up seeing him again, so we got tickets for that show too. Our tickets were in the upper deck of the stadium.
The State Newspaper put out a call for anyone with a big Beatles collection to contact them about running a story on them. We reached out, because at that time, our combined collection was valued somewhere around $200,000. They scheduled a time for us to come into their offices and bring our most expensive stuff. We brought picture sleeves, memorabilia, and other stuff. They put us in a room with a sheet on the floor. They wanted us to lie down on the sheet with our collection around us. The photographer stood on a ladder and shot down at us. We had to be very careful not to lay on our stuff to damage it. A reporter interviewed us on how we got interested in The Beatles. They used a quote of mine where I said that I was zapped through the TV screen, when I saw them on the Ed Sullivan Show in 1964. As we were finishing up the interview, I asked the reporter not to use my age in the article. I was acting, and I was doing roles that were younger than I was. I looked younger than my age. The reporter said he would do as I asked. When the article came out, it said "Walter Durst, 39". I was livid. I called the reporter, and he said that his editor made him put my age in the article because it was "company policy". I was irked to put it mildly.
Anyway, we went to Atlanta and saw the show. It was great. We sang along with almost all the songs. A few months later, I got audio and video copies of that show from a guy in Alabama. It was good, except for telling his friend to go get him a beer just as Paul finished singing "Yesterday".
The show in Columbia was almost exactly the same as the one in Atlanta, including all the intros to the songs that Paul spoke about. The only difference was in Atlanta he had a false start on "Michelle", and a scenery piece fell down during "Paperback Writer". They had told everyone not to bring audio or video devices into the concert in Columbia. There turned out to be no one checking for that. One could have brought an entire TV crew in, and no one would have said anything. I didn't get a copy of that show, but I do have a video of the soundcheck.
It was amazing to see Paul McCartney. I saw him again in 2015 and sang along to all of the songs again.
Friday, October 26, 2018
The Program
During the early 1990's, I had an agent for work in film and television. One night, she called me with a proposal. There was a film that was being planned for Charleston and Savannah. I asked her what the film was called, and she said "something Gump". I asked who had been cast for the film, and she told me that Sally Field had. The part that was being offered to me was of a man sitting on a park bench next to the male lead. At that time, the male lead had not been cast. I asked my agent what the film was about, and she said that it was about the South in the 50's and 60's. So, Sally Field was in it. I had worked with Burt Reynolds in "Semi-Tough" and had not had a favorable impression of him. Sally Field had done the "Smokey and the Bandit" films with him. I just thought this "Gump" movie would be a redneck movie about the South, so I turned it down. I asked my agent what else she had, and she said there was a movie being filmed in Columbia called "The Program". I asked her what that was about, and she said college football and steroids. That sounded more interesting, and I wouldn't have to travel, so I took that. By the way, every actor has a story like that where they passed on a project that would later turn out to be a hit and instead took a job where the film was not as good.
My friend Del and I were cast as football fans. The job was kind of like the one I had in "Semi-Tough", where they moved us around the stadium, depending on the game. It was November and very cold.
One of the stars of the film was Halle Berry. It was one of her first roles. She played a college student tutoring Omar Epps. At the time, she was married to David Justice who played baseball for the Atlanta Braves. He came over from Atlanta one day to visit her. During a break in the filming, I went over to David and we talked about baseball. All of a sudden, Halle Berry came over to where we were and pulled him away. She was mad and told him that he should be talking with her. He said he was just talking with me about baseball, but she said she didn't care and that I was nobody. It was obvious who wore the pants in that marriage. They got divorced a few years later. We were to shoot a scene that afternoon, where Halle would introduce Omar to the actor playing her father. All she had to say was "This is my father". 22 takes later, we lost the sunlight and had to come back the next day for her to get it right.
After seeing the film in the theater, there were huge continuity problems. The biggest was one of the games. They wanted to film an actual game during the football season to get the flavor of excited fans. The game they chose was a South Carolina-Tennessee game. The game was in September, and the fans were in short sleeves. By the time they filmed us in November, it was cold and people had on winter coats. So, one side of the stadium had summer clothing, and the other side had winter clothing. It was as if there was a 50 degree change from one side to the other. Also, those fans were wearing garnet or orange. Neither team on the field wore those colors. It was as if those fans showed up at the wrong game. There were other errors, but that was the worst.
James Caan was also in the movie, but he came in for a week of filming after most everyone else had left. So, I didn't get to work with him.
As for my agent, she left town with money from her clients including me. I guess that was for the best.
My friend Del and I were cast as football fans. The job was kind of like the one I had in "Semi-Tough", where they moved us around the stadium, depending on the game. It was November and very cold.
One of the stars of the film was Halle Berry. It was one of her first roles. She played a college student tutoring Omar Epps. At the time, she was married to David Justice who played baseball for the Atlanta Braves. He came over from Atlanta one day to visit her. During a break in the filming, I went over to David and we talked about baseball. All of a sudden, Halle Berry came over to where we were and pulled him away. She was mad and told him that he should be talking with her. He said he was just talking with me about baseball, but she said she didn't care and that I was nobody. It was obvious who wore the pants in that marriage. They got divorced a few years later. We were to shoot a scene that afternoon, where Halle would introduce Omar to the actor playing her father. All she had to say was "This is my father". 22 takes later, we lost the sunlight and had to come back the next day for her to get it right.
After seeing the film in the theater, there were huge continuity problems. The biggest was one of the games. They wanted to film an actual game during the football season to get the flavor of excited fans. The game they chose was a South Carolina-Tennessee game. The game was in September, and the fans were in short sleeves. By the time they filmed us in November, it was cold and people had on winter coats. So, one side of the stadium had summer clothing, and the other side had winter clothing. It was as if there was a 50 degree change from one side to the other. Also, those fans were wearing garnet or orange. Neither team on the field wore those colors. It was as if those fans showed up at the wrong game. There were other errors, but that was the worst.
James Caan was also in the movie, but he came in for a week of filming after most everyone else had left. So, I didn't get to work with him.
As for my agent, she left town with money from her clients including me. I guess that was for the best.
Monday, October 15, 2018
Ginger
In 1991, I sent a letter to an actress named Ginger Lynn Allen. It was mostly a letter to sign up for her fan club. She had been an adult film actress, and had done some mainstream roles too. She responded to my letter, and I was put on her mailing list.
As time went on, we became friends, more than just a fan to her. She had recorded a 12" dance single, which was never released. She sent me three of the records. I gave two of them as Christmas presents. I kept the third, which was autographed to me. A few years later, a record producer in California contacted me about letting him borrow the record. It seems that he had heard about Ginger's record and had contacted her about releasing it on a compilation cd. She told him that I was the only one that she knew that had a copy of it. So, I asked her permission and sent it to the producer. He released the cd, and I got a credit on the booklet.
I got Christmas presents from her each year, including a teddy bear one year. It sits in my living room today. I told her early on that I would not judge her for her work. I knew that was just her job, and she was not like that in real life. After a few years, I shared the gospel with her, and she accepted it. I also helped her with a charity close to her heart--cystic fibrosis.
She also was engaged to Charlie Sheen. I knew that was not the best relationship to have, but sometimes love is blind. After they broke up, and he married Denise Richards, Ginger was going through her attic and came upon some of Charlie's clothes. She asked me what she should do about the clothes. I told her not to give them back to him, but rather sell them to make money for her charity. She did just that.
When I moved into my apartment in 1994, Ginger was one of the first people to call and congratulate me on my new digs. We didn't talk long, but it was great to hear from her. In 2009-10, I was homeless. I will talk about that more in depth later, but Ginger was very helpful in keeping my head in the game. Her support helped me in not giving up on myself. And, I supported her when she contracted cancer. We are a mutual support bond.
Even though we are 3000 miles away, we still have a bond. Friendship is something between two people. I am glad I can call her my friend.
As time went on, we became friends, more than just a fan to her. She had recorded a 12" dance single, which was never released. She sent me three of the records. I gave two of them as Christmas presents. I kept the third, which was autographed to me. A few years later, a record producer in California contacted me about letting him borrow the record. It seems that he had heard about Ginger's record and had contacted her about releasing it on a compilation cd. She told him that I was the only one that she knew that had a copy of it. So, I asked her permission and sent it to the producer. He released the cd, and I got a credit on the booklet.
I got Christmas presents from her each year, including a teddy bear one year. It sits in my living room today. I told her early on that I would not judge her for her work. I knew that was just her job, and she was not like that in real life. After a few years, I shared the gospel with her, and she accepted it. I also helped her with a charity close to her heart--cystic fibrosis.
She also was engaged to Charlie Sheen. I knew that was not the best relationship to have, but sometimes love is blind. After they broke up, and he married Denise Richards, Ginger was going through her attic and came upon some of Charlie's clothes. She asked me what she should do about the clothes. I told her not to give them back to him, but rather sell them to make money for her charity. She did just that.
When I moved into my apartment in 1994, Ginger was one of the first people to call and congratulate me on my new digs. We didn't talk long, but it was great to hear from her. In 2009-10, I was homeless. I will talk about that more in depth later, but Ginger was very helpful in keeping my head in the game. Her support helped me in not giving up on myself. And, I supported her when she contracted cancer. We are a mutual support bond.
Even though we are 3000 miles away, we still have a bond. Friendship is something between two people. I am glad I can call her my friend.
Thursday, October 4, 2018
Martha Franks
It was 1994. Taking care of my parents was taking its toll. Every time the phone would ring at work, my first thought was something had happened to Mother or Daddy. Most of the time, it was something else. Daddy was becoming increasingly forgetful. He would go visit someone at the hospital and forget where he parked in the garage. He would go to the wrong level and then think his car had been stolen. He became a regular with hospital security. They would take him up the levels until they found his car. He was also getting into minor fender-benders. Mother was getting around better from her stroke, but she had to use a walker. My brother and I decided that we had to take the car keys away from Daddy. He cried a lot about that. I had to do the grocery shopping, because we just couldn't let him drive.
An option came our way. Since Daddy was a Baptist minister, they could get into Martha Franks Retirement Center in Laurens, SC. It was run by the SC Baptist Convention. In order to get money for their move, we had to sell the house, their two cars, and most of their stuff. We got an auctioneer to come and sell the stuff in an Estate Sale. On the day of the sale, I went around to prospective buyers and told them the history of the pieces. The prices they paid got to be a little bit more with my stories. Yes, I could sell. After all, I was in retail.
My brother and I drove our parents to Laurens, which was about 70 miles away. I drove Mother, and my brother drove Daddy. Mother was resigned to the move. She knew she could no longer stay in the house. Daddy cried all the way there, because he was going to miss his friends. He cried for 3 months after moving in but got more used to it, because he had friends there too. Later on, he found to love Martha Franks as did Mother.
I had to find an apartment to live in, since the house was being sold. I found one at Ravenwood Apts. in Forest Acres, about 10 minutes from work. It was a two-bedroom which worked well, because I had so much memorabilia and records. My last day in the house was my birthday. June 17th. It is kind of funny how one can equate a date with something else. I was in the den, lying on the floor, watching my 13" TV. All of the networks were showing one thing--the low-speed chase of the police and OJ Simpson.
I was not part of the sale of our house. I left that up to my brother and the real estate company, so I didn't know who bought it other than it was a couple from Charlotte. A couple of years later, I was working in the TV Department at Rich's. One Saturday, a woman came in to buy a TV. As I was putting her information into our computer, I asked her for her address for delivery. She said: "1810 Belmont Drive". I added before she could say: "29206". She was surprised I knew where her house was, and I explained that was my parents' house where I grew up. She proceeded to tell me about all the stuff that was wrong with the house that she and her husband had not been told about. Things like the den's toilet overflowing due to roots in the line; the crack down the wall of my old bedroom because of the weight of my records that messed up the foundation; and the drain in the patio outside that floods the den when it rains. I just said I was sorry.
An option came our way. Since Daddy was a Baptist minister, they could get into Martha Franks Retirement Center in Laurens, SC. It was run by the SC Baptist Convention. In order to get money for their move, we had to sell the house, their two cars, and most of their stuff. We got an auctioneer to come and sell the stuff in an Estate Sale. On the day of the sale, I went around to prospective buyers and told them the history of the pieces. The prices they paid got to be a little bit more with my stories. Yes, I could sell. After all, I was in retail.
My brother and I drove our parents to Laurens, which was about 70 miles away. I drove Mother, and my brother drove Daddy. Mother was resigned to the move. She knew she could no longer stay in the house. Daddy cried all the way there, because he was going to miss his friends. He cried for 3 months after moving in but got more used to it, because he had friends there too. Later on, he found to love Martha Franks as did Mother.
I had to find an apartment to live in, since the house was being sold. I found one at Ravenwood Apts. in Forest Acres, about 10 minutes from work. It was a two-bedroom which worked well, because I had so much memorabilia and records. My last day in the house was my birthday. June 17th. It is kind of funny how one can equate a date with something else. I was in the den, lying on the floor, watching my 13" TV. All of the networks were showing one thing--the low-speed chase of the police and OJ Simpson.
I was not part of the sale of our house. I left that up to my brother and the real estate company, so I didn't know who bought it other than it was a couple from Charlotte. A couple of years later, I was working in the TV Department at Rich's. One Saturday, a woman came in to buy a TV. As I was putting her information into our computer, I asked her for her address for delivery. She said: "1810 Belmont Drive". I added before she could say: "29206". She was surprised I knew where her house was, and I explained that was my parents' house where I grew up. She proceeded to tell me about all the stuff that was wrong with the house that she and her husband had not been told about. Things like the den's toilet overflowing due to roots in the line; the crack down the wall of my old bedroom because of the weight of my records that messed up the foundation; and the drain in the patio outside that floods the den when it rains. I just said I was sorry.
Tuesday, September 25, 2018
Caregiver Part Two
My Mother got out of rehab after her stroke. She was doing pretty well, but she needed someone to stay with her during the day. My father did that mostly during the week along with a woman he hired. On Sundays, Daddy was the interim pastor of a church, so I was put in charge of being with Mother on Sunday mornings. As I wrote earlier, I was very active in the church and a big part of the Singles Sunday School Department. Since I could no longer go to church, most people knew the situation and supported me in my decision.
About six months after my Mother's stroke, I got a letter in the mail from my Sunday School class. It was from a woman that I didn't know, and she apparently didn't know me. She wrote that they missed me being in Sunday School and hoped everything was all right with me. She had no clue why I had been gone. Two of the church's ministers had hurt me by ignoring me at the hospital, and now this woman had written me a somewhat generic letter of concern. I had grown up in that church. I had been very active in that church. Now, I felt the church was turning its back on me.
My friend Del was a member at St. Andrews Baptist Church. I also knew the pastor quite well, because he used to be my pastor at my old church. I joined St. Andrews. I liked that church a lot, even though I was not as active as my previous church. Later on, we got a new minister who liked to have Drama done during services. A friend and I started a Drama group in the church. I wrote several skits that were used to support the pastor's sermons. I stayed at that church for almost 20 years.
About six months after my Mother's stroke, I got a letter in the mail from my Sunday School class. It was from a woman that I didn't know, and she apparently didn't know me. She wrote that they missed me being in Sunday School and hoped everything was all right with me. She had no clue why I had been gone. Two of the church's ministers had hurt me by ignoring me at the hospital, and now this woman had written me a somewhat generic letter of concern. I had grown up in that church. I had been very active in that church. Now, I felt the church was turning its back on me.
My friend Del was a member at St. Andrews Baptist Church. I also knew the pastor quite well, because he used to be my pastor at my old church. I joined St. Andrews. I liked that church a lot, even though I was not as active as my previous church. Later on, we got a new minister who liked to have Drama done during services. A friend and I started a Drama group in the church. I wrote several skits that were used to support the pastor's sermons. I stayed at that church for almost 20 years.
Saturday, September 15, 2018
Caregiver
I had been living with my parents to care for them, since I moved back to Columbia from Ft. Worth in 1979. In exchange, they let me live with them for free. It was a good arrangement. I was able to work and travel, but at the same time I took care of them and notified others when I would be gone.
In 1991, I was looking to go to Williamsburg with my friends Del and Chris. We wanted to go to Busch Gardens and ride roller coasters, as well as visit Jamestown. We rented a car. We got there and toured the area. After leaving Jamestown, we were almost involved in a head-on collision. The rental's battery also died. Upon getting that fixed, we went to Busch Gardens. The park was fantastic. On one roller coaster, I was going downhill toward a lake. As I was screaming, a bug flew into my mouth. It was not good for me or the bug. Adjacent to the park was the beer factory. We got to see how beer was made. At the end of the tour, they offered free samples. I had been sober for 7 years, so I declined. There was a 17 year old boy on our tour who wanted the excess samples. So, we all gave our beer to him. As we were on the trolley to take us back to the park, the boy was standing up. You could tell the beer was starting to take effect. The trolley lurched, and he fell flat on his face. It was pretty funny.
When we left Williamsburg, we decided to drive down the coast toward Myrtle Beach. It was a very long journey passing through small towns with even smaller speed limits. We finally got to our destination. We stopped at a miniature golf course. As we were playing, a thunderstorm rolled in. We ran to a nearby shelter carrying our golf clubs. Smart move. Carrying lightning rods. Thankfully, we weren't struck by lightning. We then left Myrtle Beach. The traffic was bad, so we tried to bypass it all and got hopelessly lost. We drove around the upper part of SC for quite a while until we came to I-77. Everyone has GPS now, but back then we didn't even have a map.
We got back home and went to our separate homes. The next morning, my Mother had just cooked breakfast and went in her bedroom to rest. She did that a lot. My father and I were in the living room reading the newspaper. I saw something that I thought my Mother would find interesting and went into her bedroom to read it to her. She was babbling. I couldn't understand her. I was perplexed and went back into the living room. I sat there for a minute and then remarked to Daddy that something seemed wrong with Mother. He went into her room and came out frantic. "Call 911! Get an ambulance!" I did. The ambulance came and took her to Baptist Hospital. Daddy was distraught, so I drove both of us to the hospital behind the ambulance.
When we got to the hospital, we went into the ER waiting room. Daddy was crying. I was sitting nearby, having a hard time processing what was going on. The doctor came out and told us that Mother had a massive stroke. As we were sitting there, word spread that Mother was in the hospital in serious condition. Our pastor and music minister came running into the waiting room. They went right past me to my father. They didn't even acknowledge my existence. Two church staff members came running in and saw me sitting alone. They came over to me and asked me how I was doing. I have never forgotten their kindness. I had done many things for that church. I had written Stewardship dramas. I was in the choir. I had helped organize the Singles Sunday School class. I had been on mission trips. None of that seemed to matter to some. It quite frankly hurt my feelings.
I called my brother, and he came to help. Mother stayed in the hospital for some time and then went on to HealthSouth to rehab. She got a little better over time but was never the same. I was her caregiver, and I dropped the ball. I felt guilty for years that had I acted sooner that her paralysis would not have been so bad. I just saw her condition and didn't say anything for a few minutes. The doctors told me later that my response time would not have mattered. The damage had already been done. They told me I saved her life by getting her to the hospital in time. I guess I would have to dwell on that. Also that this happened after I got back from my vacation. I think God prepared me for it by being rested. What if I was in Williamsburg when she had her stroke? I think she would have probably died that day. I live in a world of "what ifs".
In 1991, I was looking to go to Williamsburg with my friends Del and Chris. We wanted to go to Busch Gardens and ride roller coasters, as well as visit Jamestown. We rented a car. We got there and toured the area. After leaving Jamestown, we were almost involved in a head-on collision. The rental's battery also died. Upon getting that fixed, we went to Busch Gardens. The park was fantastic. On one roller coaster, I was going downhill toward a lake. As I was screaming, a bug flew into my mouth. It was not good for me or the bug. Adjacent to the park was the beer factory. We got to see how beer was made. At the end of the tour, they offered free samples. I had been sober for 7 years, so I declined. There was a 17 year old boy on our tour who wanted the excess samples. So, we all gave our beer to him. As we were on the trolley to take us back to the park, the boy was standing up. You could tell the beer was starting to take effect. The trolley lurched, and he fell flat on his face. It was pretty funny.
When we left Williamsburg, we decided to drive down the coast toward Myrtle Beach. It was a very long journey passing through small towns with even smaller speed limits. We finally got to our destination. We stopped at a miniature golf course. As we were playing, a thunderstorm rolled in. We ran to a nearby shelter carrying our golf clubs. Smart move. Carrying lightning rods. Thankfully, we weren't struck by lightning. We then left Myrtle Beach. The traffic was bad, so we tried to bypass it all and got hopelessly lost. We drove around the upper part of SC for quite a while until we came to I-77. Everyone has GPS now, but back then we didn't even have a map.
We got back home and went to our separate homes. The next morning, my Mother had just cooked breakfast and went in her bedroom to rest. She did that a lot. My father and I were in the living room reading the newspaper. I saw something that I thought my Mother would find interesting and went into her bedroom to read it to her. She was babbling. I couldn't understand her. I was perplexed and went back into the living room. I sat there for a minute and then remarked to Daddy that something seemed wrong with Mother. He went into her room and came out frantic. "Call 911! Get an ambulance!" I did. The ambulance came and took her to Baptist Hospital. Daddy was distraught, so I drove both of us to the hospital behind the ambulance.
When we got to the hospital, we went into the ER waiting room. Daddy was crying. I was sitting nearby, having a hard time processing what was going on. The doctor came out and told us that Mother had a massive stroke. As we were sitting there, word spread that Mother was in the hospital in serious condition. Our pastor and music minister came running into the waiting room. They went right past me to my father. They didn't even acknowledge my existence. Two church staff members came running in and saw me sitting alone. They came over to me and asked me how I was doing. I have never forgotten their kindness. I had done many things for that church. I had written Stewardship dramas. I was in the choir. I had helped organize the Singles Sunday School class. I had been on mission trips. None of that seemed to matter to some. It quite frankly hurt my feelings.
I called my brother, and he came to help. Mother stayed in the hospital for some time and then went on to HealthSouth to rehab. She got a little better over time but was never the same. I was her caregiver, and I dropped the ball. I felt guilty for years that had I acted sooner that her paralysis would not have been so bad. I just saw her condition and didn't say anything for a few minutes. The doctors told me later that my response time would not have mattered. The damage had already been done. They told me I saved her life by getting her to the hospital in time. I guess I would have to dwell on that. Also that this happened after I got back from my vacation. I think God prepared me for it by being rested. What if I was in Williamsburg when she had her stroke? I think she would have probably died that day. I live in a world of "what ifs".
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