Voyage to the Sun Blog

Check out my bucket list blog:

http://voyagetothesun.blogspot.com/

My Uncle Gobel

Since my dad's passing in 2008, Father's Day naturally has been a little depressing to me. I'd give anything to still be sending him gifts and cards. However, the month of June also reminds me of another blessing that I still have, Daddy's oldest brother, my Uncle Gobel, whose birthday is this month. Named after his father, Gobel Fugate, (brother of George "Do-I" Fugate), he will always remain "Uncle Jr." to me.

Look up the words humble and selflessness in the dictionary and you are liable to see a picture of my Uncle Gobel in there. Even as a child, I was always drawn to Uncle Jr.'s passive and gentle nature. He has a quality that cannot be duplicated or imagined. One of my earliest memories was seeing him working and digging tators in the hot sun on his Uncle George's farm. Even at 6 years old, my sudden instinct was to immediately to go help Uncle Jr. dig tators.

He may seem like a man of little words and experience but this wasn't always the case in his younger years! He use to work and party with his aunt Dora Campbell and her brother General Lee when they moved to Chicago. His younger brothers soon followed in his footsteps to find work there as well. My uncles enjoyed partying as well on their days off but then, kids came along! One to rarely ever say no, it was then that Uncle Jr. became the "designated" babysitter a lot of the times! I can't imagine the hell my cousin Alonzo and I must have put him through. He wouldn't even stomp a bug so there's no way he scolded us.

The good times in Chicago didn't last very long though. His Uncle George ("Do-I") got sick and was unable to take care of the farm. Being the "single" one, Uncle Jr. agreed to move back to KY and help out on the farm on Fugate's Fork. What was to be a "temporary" stay, turned into over 10 years of Uncle Jr. working as a farmhand for his Uncle George, George's sister, Laura, and her husband, Garvey. He never married, never had children, or got another job after that. His life was surrounded by the duties on the farm until Uncle George's passing in 1985. It wasn't until then when he moved off the farm and eventually got his own place.

His life is a real example of selflessness. From him, I have also seen how giving and caring too much (co-dependent) can also be a curse at times. For years, Daddy struggled to protect and warn his older brother from those who wanted to take advantage him. Many times, Daddy would "kidnap" his older brother from the farm so they could go have a good time. :^) Yet Uncle Jr. is a smart man, full of kindness and good heart. He loved his family, the farm, and he loved my daddy very much. He always returned to his home on Fugate's Fork.

Sadly, I rarely get to see my Uncle "Jun" since I don't live close by but we still manage to talk on occasions. He's very independent and active even though he currently lives in the nursing home in Jackson, KY. His generosity is still there as he helps the nurses with the other patients. :^) Yet no matter what, I know his heart belongs to Fugate's Fork and his family. It brings joy and brightens his heart each time he goes back there, just as it does mine. Home is where your Heart is.

Happy Birthday, Uncle Jr.

I love you VERY Much!!!

Missing the School Bus

When I was growing up, we rarely ever owned a vehicle. So the school bus was my only transportation for getting to school. Catching the bus was one task I dreaded. Unfortunately for me, we lived in an area, around South Fork in Jackson, KY, where the school bus was unable to drive near our house. So naturally I had to walk almost 2 miles out of the holler to catch the bus. The journey out always seemed longer than usual on those bitter cold winter mornings plus the bus took forever to arrive. Since I was the only one at my bus stop, I would usually skip and jump around to fight the cold. I couldn’t wait to climb aboard to the warmth of the bus. It was actually a joy to finally see the bus coming.

Climbing aboard the bus and seeing all the strange eyes glare at you was like being onstage naked in front of hundreds of people. Nervously I would walk down the isle hoping to find an empty seat.

I had been warned early on to avoid the back seats of the bus. The so-called “bad” people sat back there. Many of the “high schoolers” loved to sneak on their smokes plus bully and frighten the younger kids. I had a chance to see the damage they did to the back seats a few times when I had no alternative but to sit back there. My experience was a little terrifying. The seats had been cut and ripped up plus there were a few cigarette burns. I nervously sat in my seat refusing to look or speak to anyone. A couple of bratty boys who were a year or two older than me stuck their pencils through the crack of my seat and jabbed me. I avoided the back at all costs after that incident.

Most mornings it was a struggle to find a seat as many of the kids were reluctant to share theirs. They would quickly scoot to the edge so you would not able to sit down. In addition, the grouchy school bus driver would yell at you for standing up too long. A lot of the times I sat on the edge of a seat forcing some kid smaller than me to scoot over. Thankfully our bus wasn’t as crowded as other school buses that ran on South Fork. Quite a few of the kids on those buses had to stand up throughout the entire ride to school.

For anyone that went to school in Eastern KY, you know the excitement of snow days. It was those happy occasions when school was either canceled or released early because of the bad weather. It was exciting to listen to the radio waiting for Breathitt County schools to be announced. When it was, I cared less about the other nearby counties and snuggled back to bed.

There were a few rare occasions when the school let us leave early if the weather got too bad. Yet it was important to pay attention to the announcements on the school’s intercom as they would announce the bus numbers departing. This called for a little more responsibility for a 3rd grader like me at the time. Being the lonely dreamer lost in my own pretend little world, I happen to miss my bus home the day our school got out early. It was a scary experience that I remember all to well and had always feared.

That morning started off similar like all other school days. Once Daddy woke me, I whined and got ready while he listened to the radio for the weather. Mommy gently snored away unaware that I was up or that it was even morning. She had spent most of the night eating popcorn and watching TV. I knew this very well because my bed was only a couple of feet away from my parents’ bed.

Since we lived in a small 3 room house, our bedroom was also our living room. On school nights, my set bedtime was 8 p.m. plus I wasn’t allowed to turn over while Mommy watched TV. I hated it because all the good TV shows came on after 8 p.m. Many times I slept half way on my side and back, pretending to be asleep, especially on those nights when Taxi came on. As usual, Mommy would catch me with my eyes half way open and make me turn all the way over to face the wall. It was hard to go to sleep with the flickering of the TV screen on the wall.

I dragged along that cold morning while Daddy listened for the school closures. As the closure announcements were made, unfortunately Breathitt County was not on the list. As always, Daddy pushed me off to school as I irritably stomped out the door with my books. The weather was so cold, wet, and just plain yucky. I angrily trudged along the broken muddy path during my hike out to the South Fork highway. I took most of my anger out on the semi-frozen mud puddles. Seeing the ice break like glass underneath my muddy boots made me happy.

Like always, the school bus took forever. I climbed aboard yet I didn’t have to struggle for a seat as many had stayed home. Finally I could have a seat all to myself. As my nose and hands began to thaw, I suddenly saw snow flakes begin to fall outside the school bus window. I had wished school had been canceled like the other counties. It just didn’t seem fair. By the time we reached my school, LBJ, the ground was almost white with the fresh snow.

I had not been in class very long, when all of us 3rd graders were squirming and talking about the snow. Like everyone else, I wondered if we would get to go home early. The teacher, Miss Turner, tried to quiet the class while she impatiently called the role. It seemed like a long process since many of the students were missing.

We had not been at school for very long when the early bus departure announcements soon began. Wow! I was surprised. Every few minutes, bus numbers were called out. Yet I was disheartened when I didn’t hear mine announced. Then I began to wonder and doubt what bus number I even rode. Is it bus 23 or 32?

Soon we lined up for breakfast. Yet I couldn’t think about food at a time like this. I was so distraught and nervous about my bus being called that my stomach started to ache. Two more buses were announced by the time we entered the lunch room.

One of the odd amenities at LBJ was having the lunch room shared with the gym. Unfortunately the intercom in the gym didn’t work very well. The voice over the intercom reminded me of the teacher on Charlie Brown. It was nearly impossible to understand what was being said.

Like always, I stared at the painting above the bleachers on the one side of the wall. The blonde-headed girl in painting provided the written blessing over our food: “God is Great...God is Good..And we Thank Him for our Food. Amen.”

The other side of the gym included a small stage with heavy orange curtains representing our school color and our team, the Cowboys. Large lunch tables with connected bench seats ran vertically across the gym floor. Behind the gym we gathered our tray and lined up for breakfast. There wasn’t an option to pick the food you wanted. You simply got whatever the lunch lady gave you and you had to drink your milk as ordered by the teacher. I don’t remember anyone being “lactose” intolerant back then. If so, I would have claim to be as I hated milk!

For those students who didn’t receive “free” lunches, a few brought their cute lunch boxes that had popular 70’s characters like Wonder Woman, Superman, the Hulk, or Charlie’s Angels on them. I used to dream of having my own lunch box. I even asked my mom if I could get one but naturally she said no since my lunches were free.

Before long we were sitting down and picking away at our breakfast. The older kids sat in a far distance from us 3rd graders. As usual, laughter and chattering was everywhere. There were a few announcements made over the intercom yet it was impossible to hear any of them. I was distracted by the noise nearby.

A bus announcement came over the intercom once again but it was so muffled and low that I could barely make out any of the bus numbers called. I began to see kids get up and take their tray away. Some were my age but most of them looked a little older.

Suddenly I saw two or three older girls who looked like they rode my bus, get up and leave. Was it a coincidence or did my bus get called? I began to wonder. Maybe they were just done eating. Should I go? What if it’s not my bus and I get into trouble for leaving? What if it is my bus and I miss it? I tried to ask a couple of kids what bus was called. They didn’t know or even seem to care. I looked around for my teacher, Miss Turner. I could she was busy eating breakfast with the other school teachers and seemed content being away from us students. I wanted to go ask her about the buses called yet my fear kept me frozen to my seat.

A few more buses were called and I saw a lot more students getting up to leave. I recognized quite a few of them as they were my 3rd cousins who lived on South Fork a bit farther up above the road from me. Their bus was one of the overcrowded ones. I suddenly got scared again. If their bus had been called then it was probably my bus that had just left earlier. Oh no! My stomach grumbled with fear and hunger. I felt my eyes begin to water. Yet the voice in my head kept trying to convince me that my bus wasn’t called.

“Nah! It probably wasn’t your bus. I really don’t think they called it yet. Besides, there were a lot more people than that who were on the bus. But then, there were some high schoolers on the bus. Oh no! Nah…I bet the bus hasn’t been called but then…”

My mind debated back and forth even as Miss Turner lined us up to empty our trays. The others around me giggled and chattered happily away. I suppose I would giggle too if I hadn’t missed my bus. My happiness about getting to go home was so distracted by my fear. In my mind, I was almost convinced that I had missed the bus but I had to stay calm. What do they do to a person who misses the bus? Do you get in trouble? How would I get home? Would I have to stay at school all night until the buses ran again?

One of my big fantasies as a child was dreaming of spending the night in the school. I loved the thought of writing on the chalkboard in every classroom, playing with the duplex machine that made those stinky purple lettered copies, exploring art class, and hopes of finding all the cookies in lunchroom. What fun I thought it would be! However, the thought of spending the night at school seemed too real and scary to me at the moment.

Since my parents didn’t have a car or phone, I had no idea who or how to contact someone. In fact, there weren’t many people in my family who did have a phone. Even if they did, I had no idea what their phone number was.

As the morning grew later, our classroom was almost empty. Miss Turner sat quietly as the other students and I sat coloring. By now nearly all the school buses had been called. The only students remaining were those waiting for their parents to pick them up. Finally I got enough nerve up to approach Miss Turner about my bus since there were hardly any students to be embarrassed in front of.

I shyly approached her. “Miss Turner, I don’t know if they ever called my bus or not. I think I am bus 32.”

She paused and looked at me. “Doesn’t bus 32 run up South Fork? Is that where you live?” she asked.

I embarrassingly nodded my head. Then she yelled to the teacher in the next complex about Bus 32. I heard the teacher mumble something as Miss Turner went to approach her.

I tried to convince myself that I hadn’t missed the bus. I denied, denied, denied so I could stay calm. Then the voice came again. “You dummy! Of course you missed your bus. There is no one left in the school but the teachers and you. Boy, are you going to get it!”

I could hear Miss Turner and the other teacher blabbing and complaining. They seemed to talk forever. By the time Miss Turner returned, the other students had left with their parents, leaving me the only student left in the entire complex. Miss Turner didn’t look happy as she probably wanted to go home herself.

“Honey, Bus 32 left this morning. We’ll have to go call your parents, ok.” she stated.

Suddenly my hands nervously shook and my eyes watered up. “See, I told you, Dummy!” the voice said.

She gathered her things and took my hand as we headed to the front office. I tried to tell her that my parents didn’t have a phone or car but she seemed uninterested. Before I knew it, she left me at the main office as she talked with the secretary. The secretary didn’t look too pleased either.

Within minutes both were talking to the principal while I nervously stood outside his office. My nose started running from tearing up. As usual I rarely had tissues in my pockets. My knitted gloves and hat came in handy during these times. Thoughts raced across my mind. How will I ever get home? Would Mommy and Daddy spank me? Will I finally get to see that electric paddle the principal had? South Fork didn’t seem too terrible far from the school. I am sure I could walk back home.

Before long both the secretary and Miss Turner were leaving. They said good bye to the principal and headed their way. More fear struck me. I AM stuck here in this school by myself. I bet the principal does have that electric paddle. Now I’m going to get it!

He called me into his office while he fumbled through some papers. He repeated my name a few times, “Crystal Fugate. Crystal Gail Fugate. That’s your name ain’t it?” he gently smiled. I simply nodded feeling afraid to speak. He then began to make a phone call but apparently didn’t get an answer.

“Are you any kin to Oscar Fugate?” he finally asked. What a relief I thought! Uncle Oscar was Daddy’s baby brother. He had graduated from high school just a year or so earlier.

“Yes. He’s my uncle.” I answered quickly afraid that he might still be thinking of paddling me with that hidden electric paddle.

 

It was quiet for a moment and he fumbled through stuff then he stated, “Yep. I know Oscar. He’s a good ‘ole boy. I had him in a few of my classes.”

I didn’t know what to say. I thought he was a principal not a teacher. In any case, I was glad he knew Uncle Oscar and he liked him. Although he wasn’t a big talker, I loved my Uncle Oscar because he seemed so cool! I thought it was neat that we both were in school at the same time even if he was a lot older than me. Plus Uncle Oscar was well liked by many of the girls that lived near our holler on Big Branch. I was so proud to have such a handsome uncle.

“You live on South Fork? Do you live next to Oscar?” he asked.

“Yes.” I stated.

Soon he was getting his keys and gathering his stuff. I was hoping that he was taking me home but I couldn’t be too sure. I was afraid to ask.

“Come on. I’ll drive you up South Fork.” he motioned for me out the door. Whew! What a relief! I couldn’t wait to get home and so thankful that I didn’t get a paddling.

The drive seemed long and quiet even though my bus stop on South Fork was only 15 or 20 minutes away from the LBJ School. His cigar smoke filled the car and I thought I would choke. Yet I sat quiet and stared out the window. Hopefully the ride would be over soon. I was surprised that it had stopped snowing but who cared. School was out!

I felt a sigh of relief once we turned up on South Fork. My bus stop was the first dirt road on the left.

“I live up here on Big Branch.” I reminded him hoping he wouldn’t forget to stop.

“Ole Big Branch.” He pondered. “You got a long walk ahead of you.”

He stopped to let me out. As he did, he pulled out a couple of Dum Dum suckers out of his pocket.

“Here you go. You be careful now and don’t miss the bus again.” he smiled as I got out of the car.

Afterwards I thought it was so cool that I got a ride from the principal. He actually knew me and my Uncle Oscar. I felt so privileged. As I skipped up the holler I felt so thankful to be going home. I was sure my parents would be happy to see me as well. I didn’t fear any paddling for the principal brought me home! I was special indeed.

Not long before I made it home, I pulled out the sucker that he had given me. What a treat! I skipped along with the sucker in my mouth. Oh happy day! I was out of school, had a sucker, and could play all day at home.

Daddy was sitting on the front porch looking down the holler when I arrived. He had been listening to the radio and heard school had been out hours ago. I came running up the pathway to the house. As I reached the porch, I could see he had a worried look on his face. My happiness soon turned to fear.

“What’s that in your mouth?” he asked which I thought was a dumb question. Obviously he could see it was a sucker.

“What’d I tell you about walking and eating suckers at the same time?” he questioned angrily.

I was shocked. Daddy rarely got angry at me but he seemed more angry about the sucker than about me being late. Soon I remembered his one rule about not walking with suckers in my mouth. Like me, he had fears too. He was always afraid that I would fall and choke to death. I regretted having eaten the sucker on the way home. I got a swaddling for that one and that incident stayed in my mind for years.

Of course I got a lecture from him and my mom about “paying attention” or something like that. Who knows? I don’t remember and wasn’t paying attention! I was just happy that I didn’t have to spend the night at school!