"It was third world conditions at John Gaston Charity Hospital at the University of Tennessee, and segregation was status quo. Only the dirt poor white folks would even go to Charity and nobody went to Charity until they were nearly dead.
"In '58-'59 I was a senior medical student doing obstetrics rotation and naming babies. All the mother's were multips; they already had three or more kids at home and their labors went fast. Hours before discharge they still hadn't named the latest bundle of joy and would ask us docs for suggestions. Somewhere out there in America are dozens of 48 year old Positive Wassermanns, Esophagus Lees, Vulva Jeans and Vagina Maries.
"I'll never forget the day I was a 16 year old kid and drove the furnishings down to Rueben's folks. The family was in a panic because they accused the old man of drinking up all the furnishings before food was obtained for the kids. What could I, a 16 year old do and imagine there this family looked at me as some kind of authority, just because I was white. Turned out the old man was just buying a half pint of cheap bourbon...I don't remember how much furnishings were left after that..."
The kitten I began craving last spring, as far as the vet estimates, is now about 18 weeks old. Before I left for Israel Palestine for the fifth time in two years on Friday the 13th of July, Kat would follow me all around the house. She would curl upon my lap or stretch against my butt as I sat at my computer. She slept in a kitty bed next to my pillow, and would purr and paw at the edges of her bed until she fell asleep. She would not even stir until the morning sun and then she would playfully attack my feet under the sheet and bite my toes just hard enough to get me to say, "NO!" Oreo would chase Kat away and I would fall back to sleep for a few hours.
I have been home for two weeks since my two weeks in Israel Palestine. Kat, grew her up in a hurry and although she greeted me on my arrival home, she no longer followed me around. She no longer jumped upon my lap or next to my pillow. But, she always insists on accompanying me when ever I go rock on the back porch. Kat would stretch out on a table or behind one, but last night she jumped into my lap and purred.
The above is the first in weekly Wednesday installments of excerpts from my third book, So This is 53...
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