Why Me?

I was born and raised on a 2,000 acre farm in Oakville, Alabama. From the time I could remember anything all we did was work. My brother Kevin, my sister Kate and me Sam. My father was a good farmer, businessman and was involved in a lot of things, most of them lucrative.

We had dairy cattle, beef cattle and raised soybeans and wheat. As long as my grandfather Ellis was alive everything seemed normal even though later I found out that he was an aloholic.

I loved the farm and sports and was a very active child. Conversely my brother hated the farm and did everything to get out of farm work. He eventually was successful. He tore up every piece of equipment he ever operated. I have seen him take beatings that a parent would be arrested for these days.

My sister never worked on the farm but did have a love for horses and was good with them.

I can remember as a small child going into the dairy barn and helping feed the cows and was amazed that milk came from these beautiful animals. They always seemed to enjoy their time at the dairy barn. All of the help there were my best friends. Back in those days all the hired farm labor was black. Many of the family's lived on the farm. I would eat at their houses which were more like shacks. Laura, Jay's wife cooked the best biscuits and collard greens you ever put in your mouth. She cooked on an old stove that was heated by wood. It had the best smell when she was cooking, you could smell her cooking from a mile away. They had no indoor plumbing, so they carried water from over-flowing wells to their house and heated it on the stove and bathed in a tin tub. I loved them because I knew how tough it was on them. They loved each other and never complained.

Because of segregated schools and their lack of money and education and limited transportation available they had no choice but to be where they were. All of them, Jay, Laura, Norman, Sue, and most of their children died on the farm. I love them and miss them and always will as long I have a memory and a breath of life in my body. Their children were my playmates too.

I loved sports and my dream was to one day be a sports star or a coach, but my father and mother would have none of that. They wanted me to go to school and work on the farm. I did not mind working on the farm I had my friends there. What I did mind was my brother and sister sitting under an air conditioner in the house reading books and doing whatever they pleased while I worked. I never understood this but instead of rebelling like my brother I tried to win my parent's approval. I worked like all of the minorities on the farm and was treated like them as well. My grandfather had the up-most respect for the hired hands but I never got the impression that my immediate family did.

When The summer of my 10th year arrived I wanted to play little league baseball. I was good and loved the game. My mother and father would have none of this. They wanted me to cultivate soybeans that summer instead. My mother I found out later on was the driving force behind all of this. I heard her tell my father, "we do not have the time or money to take him to practice." She also said "Sports are a waste of time and they were the fall of the Roman Empire." I had no idea what that meant, I just knew I could not play baseball. My grandfather came to the rescue. He told my mother against her obvious disapproval that he would take me to practice and games and pick me up too. I could not have been any happier. I did pay a price, I was worked each day till it was time to play. I was late to many games. But by darn I got to play. Grandaddy was always there at the games, neither of my parents were.

My favorite memory of little league was the last game of the last year I was eligible to play. We were playing for the league championship. The team I was on, "The Chief's" were playing the "Indian's". We were down 7 to 6 in the bottom of the 7th inning. We only played 7 inning games in those days. Darren White was on 3rd base. There were 2 outs, the count was 3 and 2 and I was at bat. I had struck out 3 times that day. I batted .454 my last year but I just could not hit Tim Simmons fastball and he was the pitcher this day. I heard someone in the stands say "come on Sam this guy has a big zero on his back." Some people said a lot of things that would shock the average person at little league baseball games. Tim wound up and threw it right down the middle, normally his pitch looked like an aspirin tablet to me but for some reason this one looked like a softball. I hit it over the right field fence. We won the game 8 to 7 and I was the hero of the game. My grandfather was so proud and made me feel so good about myself. My parents were at my Uncle Tommy's house having dinner with Uncle tommy and my Aunt Linda. I was so excited I began telling them that we had won the championship and I was the hero of the game. My father said nothing and my mother said to me, "take your shoes off before you come into a house you know better than that." It took the air out of my balloon but I still have that memory today and it is now a treasure. I am sorry for them they were not there but, that is just the way it was.

My relationship with my parents did not change much throughout junior high and high school. I fought to participate in football, basketball and later on golf. I will not bore you with the details it is basically the same as my little league baseball story. My parents did began attending games when my sister became a cheerleader. I knew why they were there but by my senior year I had begun to realize that they were what they were. I did began to rebel. However I still worked hard on the farm.

After my senior year, my father got the flu at the beginning of planting season. Lawrence Michaels was the only white person that worked for us on the farm. We planted almost 2,000 acres of soy beans while my father was sick. I got my usual pay...nothing and my usual bonus...nothing. When I asked about compensation I was told I was not paying rent. I let it go.

My brother had gone to the University of Alabama and came home one weekend. I think he was high on marijuana. He came in late one Saturday night. My mother was demanding that my Father and I drag him out of bed and cut his long hair. I refused but my father knew he would catch hell for a long time if he did not obey her wishes. So while my mother held my brother down my father cut his hair with sewing scissors. My sister and I were crying and screaming for them to stop, but they did not. If memory serves me correct my mother even spit on my brother. Kevin left home and we have not seen him again. He had had enough. For some reason I still wanted my parents approval.

I became an excellent golfer and a successful businessman. I won several Invitationals and club championships. All told I guess I have won 50 championships.

Because of my success in business I had the opportunity to travel several times to Scotland, a place I love and will go back. I have played The Old Course at St. Andrews many times. I once shot a 69 there.

I had many problems with personal relationships and I found out later it was directly related to how I was raised. I abused drugs, alcohol, and people. I did not want to feel anything because inside I was hurting so much. It's tough feeling that no one loves you.

I had an argument with my father and told him how I felt about how I was raised and how it had affected me. They had no contact with me after that and I did not have any with them either. I, like my brother had sworn them off and was done. I thought. The following Thanksgiving and Christmas I was not invited to their home for any family functions. You see you did not cross them they don't forgive. My mother never forgets anything.

The day after that Christmas I tried unsuccessfully to take my life. I thought about it for a while. Never judge anyone who commits suicide or tries to kill themselves. Believe me you have to feel so un-wanted, un-loved and depressed to a point that I can not explain. I thank the good Lord for my life now. I am so thankful he spared me. It was a foolish and selfish act. I learned one thing...when it is your time to go God chooses it, not you.

When I was in the hospital my parents came to see me and my father told me that he was sorry for the past and he loved me no matter what. He also told me that my mother loved me but she has a strange way of showing it. It was a very emotional moment and I saw my true father. a nice gentleman who had probably been verbally abused and mentally abused by his wife for years. He was just too good a person to leave her. Then my mother comes in. I don't know who told her but she said someone said I could not remember her ever telling me verbally she loved me more than three or four times in my life. She then went on to say that I had put up a shield and was hard to talk to. She said she felt intimidated by me. I thought golly gee...I wonder why. She still sees no wrong in how my brother and I were treated growing up. Sad for her. I purposely asked her when the last time she had communicated with my brother. She lied and said it was in the last 6 months. I guess she thought that would make things all right with me.

I under underwent extensive counseling and psychiatric evaluations. I was diagnosed as being severely depressed. Simply put my problems stemmed from my youth and how I was raised. The doctors wanted to bring my parents in but I refused. I knew you did not confront my mother.

With the help of Jesus Christ my Lord and savior and the doctors, my father and I made up. I found out what a wonderful man he was and understood his anger when he was younger somewhat. Nobody makes you hit a child with a closed fist or other things that were done and said. But by the same token no one ever made me take drugs and abuse alcohol and people either. I made those choices myself and I regret those things today but I know I am forgiven because I asked God to forgive me in Jesus name.

About a year ago my father was diagnosed with cancer and my mother was by his side every moment. I knew by her actions when he was sick that she loved him dearly. He died on February 16, 2006. The night before my father died I knew his time was limited. I asked him, "Daddy, can you hear me?" He said "yes son." I said "I love you and I want to thank you for all you have done." He said "I love you too son and I have not done anything." That was it. It was a beautiful moment and I thank God he let me know when to say good-bye.

He died the next day. When my mother came home from the hospital. I hugged her and I told her she had done a good job and that I loved her. she said "I love you too." "I know I never say it but I do."

After the funeral I tried to see my mother every day. She was and still is lost. They were married for 51 years. My mother never held a job. When I would go to see her after my father's death, she did all the talking and was the same woman I remember from my youth. I kept my mouth shut as she rambled on about the world and this person and that person. Finally as she began to judge me, I could not take any more. I had forgiven her long ago but I was not going to put myself in this hornet's nest again, not everyday. I love my mother she is the only one I will have. If she needs me for anything all she has to do is call. It is like a good friend who knows about my life told me. It is her loss not yours. You have tried.

Now I look back on my youth as a blessing. It taught me the value of hard work. It taught me to love. It taught me that I was a good person. It taught me to tell the people I truly love and care about that I do. I know that you can forgive anybody for anything. I learned too that I can be forgiven. I also learned that if you are alive and have hopes and dreams you can do anything you want.

Finally, I will say these things to you. If you feel the Lord calling on you, tapping you on the shoulder, tugging on your shirt sleeve or whatever. Answer him. He is the answer. He saved my life. Tell the people you love, "I love you." You can't say this enough.

Enjoy each moment. That is all we really have.