Hayter for Feb 19, 2023
“Feel free to burn after reading”
Have you ever read the book “Burn After Writing”? I haven’t either. The book was a gift from my nephew Clint, who is the son of my kid brother, Big Al. Clint looked at the title of the book and all of the blank pages and thought it would be perfect for me. A thoughtful man, my nephew.
“Burn After Writing” was contrived by Sharon Jones. What Ms. Jones has created is a book of personal questions that the holder of the book is supposed to answer. It’s one of few books that you’re encouraged to write in.
Since the questions do not follow any particular order, the book is more of a non-sequential diary. The four chapters in the burn book are The Past, The Present, The Future, and My Legacy. I can’t see myself getting through The Past.
In the intro to the first chapter, Sharon J writes: “Maybe you can’t change the past, but the way you remember it is never the same twice. Every time we remember something, we relive it from a different camera angle. We always reinvent our history to suit the present need. Now let’s do the opposite. Try to find new storylines in the fragments of your own history that will recreate your relationship to the present. Only you know what they are.”
Her suggestion is going to make this harder than I’d like it to be. Regardless, let’s turn the page. – We’ve got seven questions here. I’ll be lucky if I cover three. Each question is short and leaves plenty of room for me to write my response.
#1) “My earliest memory”: It was of my big brother Dennis and me playing outside in our dirty shorts (occasionally underwear) waiting for the school bus to let off our sister Lynda and brother Larry. They were both in junior high, and were the only ones who got dropped off on the unpaved portion of Spencer Road in Pasadena.
As soon as she stepped off the bus, Lynda would divide her books up and ask Dennis and me if we would mind carrying them home for her. She knew that’s why we always waited for the bus, but she made us feel important by asking us for help.
Larry had Daddy’s old lunch kit and a book or two, but he didn’t trust his two dirt-faced brothers with anything. The attitude was “You’re embarrassing me.” Even back then, I could understand his reasoning.
I’ve mentioned before about Lynda passing away in the Alzheimer wing of an old hospital in Harris County. Near the end of her life’s journey, she didn’t know anyone, but she still managed to smile when we came to visit. I remember telling you about the time when Lynda could no longer talk or smile She would just lay in bed and stare. During my last visit, I sat on the floor next to her bed and started singing “Softly and Tenderly, Jesus is calling—“ At that point, Lynda sang, “Calling for you and for me.” -- I cried like a child.
That is a blessed memory, and recalling it always hurts like all get out. So, let’s look at another question.
#2 “As a child, I dreamed of becoming…:”
That’s easy. I wanted to be the Lone Ranger, but I couldn’t because Dennis had already called
dubs. So I’d have to be Tonto, who as an Indian got little respect and very few
lines. -- Kimosabe, my rear.
# 3 “When I look into the past, what do I miss the most?”: That’s a tough one. It’s either “Soupy Sales” or Daddy taking us to the drive-in theatre. Soupy Sales was the best thing on TV, but going to the drive-in was the best family outing. Mom would pop a grocery bag full of popcorn, and make a jug of Koo-lade. There were four of us in the backseat munching on popcorn and drinking bad punch. The car would always need a thorough cleanup after visiting the drivein.
When the eats were gone, we’d run to the
front of the building where the projector shot the ray of film onto the screen.
When we weren’t running around, we’d actually watch the movie, too
# 4 “My childhood described in one word”: Scary
# 5 “Posters I had on the wall growing up”: None.
# 6 “The single most profound act of kindness that I will never forget”: I have been blessed with several, but here’s the first one that came to mind. In 1970, I graduated from SFA with a degree in Forestry. I had been working for the Texas Forest Service in District 6 as a forester.
Unfortunately, working as a forester for two years, I discovered that I really didn’t enjoy the job. I was just not the outdoors-man I hoped to be. So, with Kay’s support, I decided to quit my job and go back to college for a MA Degree that would allow me to teach any subject that falls under the umbrella of Social Studies.
All the while, I had my doubts about going back to school. What if I started teaching, and found out I didn’t like it. Would I quit, just like I did the Forest Service?
Well, one weekend Kay and I drove down to Pasadena from Huntsville to see the family. Shortly after we arrived Dad told me he wanted to show me something out in the garage. It turns out, he had made me a desk out of a couple of hollow-core closet doors and some particle board. It was the nicest desk I’d ever seen. More than that, it was Dad’s way of blessing me for deciding to be a teacher.
When I retired from teaching, I decided
to give Dad’s desk to my nephew Clint, who gave me the “Burn After Writing”
book. He not only gifted me the book, but he also gave me an ending for the
article. – Now I’ve only got 124 pages to go.
end
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