The first real injury happened when I was playing basketball,
when I was in my early teens. There was a collision on the
court while I was running at high speed. Somehow, I injured my
back and was not able to walk for two or three days. I couldn't
straighten up or walk straight for three weeks. However, with
my grandmother's help, I was able to work out of that injury.
In another sports injury, my left ankle was seriously crushed,
with several bones protruding from the skin. I was playing
catcher when the injury occurred. The bases were loaded with
two out, and we had a play at any base. The batter hit a slow
roller out to the pitcher, and he threw to me at home for the
forced out. His throw was a little wide and I had to stretch
way out to field the ball, but kept my left foot on the plate.
The runner saw that he was out by a long way and, I suppose, was
mad at himself for making the last out. As he came to the
plate, he jumped in the air and came down with both feet on my
left leg, snapping my ankle! I knew I was hurt because I heard
a loud pop, like a gunshot. I got up and hobbled around, trying
to shake it off, but was unable to get into the catcher's
crouch, so the coach put me on second base.
I played at second base for two innings, but when I came in
after that second inning, I was hurting so badly that I told the
coach I just could not play any more. He knew I wouldn't
complain unless something was really wrong, so he decided to
take a look and I unlaced my shoe.
In those days, we weren't supplied with any protective gear like
you see today. I always wore high topped, lace-up shoes to
protect my ankles and provide support against the strain of
sitting in a crouch for nine innings while playing catcher --
and I had them on when the injury occurred.
When I unlaced that shoe, it was like my ankle exploded. It
immediately swelled to double its normal size, and several bones
were showing through the skin.... Someone took me home and my
dear grandmother took care of me. She set the ankle, wrapped
and taped it up, and I never saw a doctor. The ankle healed
perfectly. I had to walk with hand-made crutches for about
three weeks, but suffered no lasting effects.
The only other serious injury I recall was a bad burn. I was
running up to the farmhouse and fell. My left arm went into a
bed of red-hot embers up to my elbow. There was nobody home
that day, and when I pulled my arm out of the fire, I
instinctively grabbed my injured arm with the other hand
and ran into the house. When I removed the good hand, all the
skin came up from the back of the injured one, exposing the
bones, tendons, and other parts.
I didn't know what to do, but since it was wintertime, I found a
bucket of ice water and plunged my hand into it as far as it
would go, and kept it there as long as I could stand it. The
cold felt good, but after a while, I would have to remove it.
As soon as I did, the burning would start again. So I stood
there for several hours, repeating the procedure, until my folks
came home.
Once again, my grandmother took charge and fixed me up. I don't
recall exactly what she did, but her home remedy and the ice
water worked! I have very few scars today.
There were many other times when I was injured and either my
mother or grandmother always took care of me. Once, I jumped
off the front porch on top of a broken bottle with my bare
feet. I lost quite a bit of blood but, again, no doctor. My
mother took care of the injury, and there were no lasting
effects. In fact, the first time I saw a doctor for health
reasons was after I was married and living in Dallas, Texas!
Three times, when I was in my early teens, I received very
serious injuries, but never did I see a doctor. Nor did I want
to at the time. My grandmother was about as good at treating
sprains, broken bones, and burns as the county doctor.
Get your own Free Home Page
