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As I have written many times in this column, I grew up in a small town. My father worked at Moody Air Force Base for 30 years and as he would recollect while laughing, “I ate a fried egg sandwich for lunch every day of those 30 years.” His day usually did not end when he got home. He would go to his next job painting, hanging wallpaper, etc., at someone’s home. The same was true for Saturday.
I have heard him say many times when leaving in the morning, “I will see you in the cool of the day.” Hoagy Carmichael wrote a song “In the cool, cool, cool of the evening” made famous by songstress Rosemary Clooney winning a best film song in 1951. Not sure if Daddy was referencing the Carmichael song or not, but remembering those words this week got me to thinking about more than music or the heat.
Contrary to what some remember, the days of our youth (people my age) were HOT come summertime. Without air conditioning in the homes or cars then, I think it is impossible for us to make real comparisons. As Mike Hill wrote in one of his columns recently (and I paraphrase) “Push a lawnmower around your house and then go inside. If it feels cooler then your AC is working.” In the pre-AC days, there was no comparison to make — so hot was just hot. I remember the heat but I also remember the cool of the day. It was a special time.
In town and in the “communities” where families lived in the country, children were outside until bedtime. Neighbors in both areas looked after each other. Every family knew the children in the neighborhood / community and misbehaving did not go unnoticed. When I was 5, I stood on the sidewalk and spit at the cars as they passed. When I was 15, I fished-tailed our ’56 Ford around a dirt street corner behind our house. I know because a neighbor told my mother and father. Being a “good” boy or girl also caught the watchful eyes of the adults around you. Nothing made a mother more proud than a good comment about her child.
From what I see happening around me now, I wonder sometimes if my memories are from another life instead of my own childhood. The family nurturing, the cohesiveness of the neighborhoods or the caring for each other should have grown stronger with time but instead it has deteriorated almost out of existence.
Last week, we had a story about the neighboring county of Lanier having the highest per-capita rate of child abuse and neglect in the whole state. These statistics were not spread around the county but came from concentrations of people living in three neighborhoods — two in the county and one in the city. How can this be? These people are neighbors. They are not living miles apart from each other. They see each other through their windows. The common denominators causing caregivers to impose abuse on the children in the house are said to be household income and drugs. Notice I did not say children in the “home” because such terrible things could not happen in a home but rather in a house where people only stay. Homes are where love and caring exists.
The statistics are from my home county. I am ashamed. I am embarrassed. What did we do to come to a time when our children go to bed at night in fear? They shed tears into their pillows out of a terror that comes from their gut, out of a terror that consumes them as they wait for the certain abuse that will again well up in their parents. They can only wait.
The house where I grew up was a home. I did not sleep in fear as many of the children in my home county are sleeping today. Why are these children growing up any different from me? They deserve no less than I had in my home at 519 West Main Street.
Sandy Sanders
Why do some children live in abusive houses?
- Sandy Sanders
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Think before you answer
I got an email this week where a writer of an online column tells the story of a young child in Sunday School. The writer says the little boy’s teacher asked his class ‘What’s the animal with a long, bushy tail that lives in trees?’ One child quickly answers while probably thinking about the usual answer to questions in his church Sunday School, ‘Jesus. Though it sure sounds like a squirrel to me.’
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Forgiveness, redemption go together
The news story on Friday read: “WASHINGTON — The House of Representatives voted overwhelmingly Thursday to censure once-powerful New York Rep. Charles Rangel for multiple ethical misdeeds — the first time in nearly three decades that House members have publicly rebuked a colleague.
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South Georgia roots run deep for these execs
David Ratcliffe and Mike Garrett, two highly respected executives with Valdosta and South Georgia ties, will be stepping down as leaders of two of the largest power companies in the nation by yearend.
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VDT ready with all-new digital edition
You can now go to the home page of our website (www.valdostadailytimes.com) and click on the link for our digital e-edition. You can sign up for a seven-day trial or, if you currently subscribe to the print edition, we will be glad to add the e-edition just by calling our office for details.
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We are losing our children and we are blaming ‘others’
Extinction! There are public outcries to save animals, bugs and reptiles while our own children are being lost to a new world order. In the past two weeks, I have seen two students, one high school, one middle school, with their parents blessing bring to the public area all the details of their student-teacher antics. Each student had been suspended from school and one was making his way to court.
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Do we want tax or football braggin’ rights?
A drop in our property digest seems evident and to maintain we will need a tax increase. We can recruit higher-paying jobs to the county and get more taxes that way but is that practical thinking for a quick adjustment in this economy?
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Blazer Zone moving into Drexel Park
Next Saturday, Blazer fan families will have a great opportunity for some pre-game tailgating fun. The university is turning Drexel Park into a mini carnival so families can spread out to enjoy an afternoon under the trees, as they get ready for the Blazers’ season opener.
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Maggots with your steak
Today, with online journalism on newspaper websites, readers are able to go online, read the story, post a comment and, within minutes, their comment (thread) is answered by another reader. The bantering can follow a positive line or it can quickly move to having all the attributes of a barroom brawl.
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Why do some children live in abusive houses?
As I have written many times in this column, I grew up in a small town. My father worked at Moody Air Force Base for 30 years and as he would recollect while laughing, “I ate a fried egg sandwich for lunch every day of those 30 years.”
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Turning 18 before the election board
When I turned 18 my father took me down to the courthouse one evening to go before the Board of Registrars so I could be qualified to vote. I was called into the room before three men. I remember being nervous. They asked me questions about residency and being an American before I was given their stamp of approval.
- More Sandy Sanders Headlines
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Think before you answer
