Chapter 11
OUT…FROM THY FATHER’S HOUSE
(From
the time I depart Daddy’s house for Auburn, Alabama early on a frosty morn
about 6 January 1965, till a Saturday morning in late February 1965, relaxing
in the lounge of the Student Union Building at Auburn University, a time of
reflection and a milestone in my life.)
My
net pay for census taking and use of personal vehicle for the 3 weeks of census
taking came to over $200 in one paycheck. I naively expected to be handed the U.S.
government paycheck almost immediately upon completing the job well before
Christmas. But as the job neared its end, the lady supervisor informed me that
all the work would have to be calculated, recorded, reported, the pay
calculated, and then the checks issued. “Expect to receive your paycheck in the
mail in early January.”
Surprise!
There had been a lot of weekdays when I had gotten rained out of work this
summer and idle days when Mr. Mars had no work for me. I had purchased 2 cars
and unwisely spent some money for pleasures when I should have been totally
frugal to save every penny I could for university. All the gasoline money for
traveling on the census job had come out of my meager pocket. (My upcoming
paycheck would include pay for use of personal vehicle.) I had almost no money
now. I must have that
paycheck to go to Auburn. So I prayed hard that the check would arrive before I
had to leave.
Departure
day arrived. No check yet. Early that morning, I put the 3 or 4 cardboard boxes
of my belongings into the trunk and back seat of my Chevy, hung the clothes rod
across (over) the back seat and put clothes on hangers on that rod. My sister
was to ride in the front with me to Birmingham where I would leave her at a
medical clinic she was going to periodically at that time. I watched for the
mailman to come by shortly after 8, so hoping my paycheck would arrive
today. If so, I would deposit that check into my account at the Bank of Vernon.
Then Sis and I would get gone. The mailman drove up to our box on time, put
mail in it, and went on. With my heart in my throat, I hurried to the mailbox
by the roadside. No mail for me. Plan A
failed.
Now for Plan B, to
which I did not want to have to resort. I started up my car’s engine, turned
the defroster on full blast, and scrapped the frost from the front windshield.
I would drive to the Bank of Vernon and ask President Bragg for a $200 loan,
telling him I was due to receive a paycheck any day now from Uncle Sam for more
than that amount. Then I would immediately repay the bank. Mr. Bragg would give
me loan papers and tell me to have Daddy sign them also and then he would
immediately put the money into my account.
I
did not discuss any of this in advance with Daddy. His 18 years of stone
silence to me had (regretfully) naturally trained me to not confer much
with him at all. I had not asked his permission to enter a university because
he had totally released me from his dominion. So now, all such decisions were
mine alone to make. He and I had never discussed my college financing. It was a
foregone conclusion that because I was now totally in charge of my life (under
God, of course), that I was also totally in charge of financing it. I think
Daddy would gladly have financed all my university studies if only he
had been able to do so financially. He was not financially able to help at
all. I well knew that. Thus I determined (with God’s Help) to work my way thru
college.
I
was quite sure Daddy would sign loan papers for me this morning, knowing my
paycheck would arrive any day now. Silent Dad was not conferring with me that
morning. But he was observing my situation. He was at the house now, had seen
me hurry to the mailbox, bring all his mail into the house, put it down, and go
prepare my car to leave. So, as I was scraping a frosty windshield with the car’s
engine warming up, he came out of his “hiding” (similar to our God that hideth
Himself) and walked out to me. “I have some money I can let you use till your
paycheck comes.”
‘My
check with be more than $200 and I need $200 now.’
“I
can loan you that much till your paycheck arrives.”
I
don’t recall how we transacted in our front yard that frosty morn. But likely
he said he would go to town today and deposit $200 into my bank account so I
could write my checks at Auburn. Then when my paycheck arrived 3 or 4 days
later, he took it to the bank, told President Bragg that I owed him $200.
Likely, Daddy signed my name and then his name to my check. Then Mr. Bragg put
$200 into Daddy’s account and the remainder into my account, giving Daddy a
deposit slip to mail to me at Auburn. In a small town bank at that time, such a
transaction was acceptable.
1d. I move out of my boyhood home, my earthly father’s house.
I have few personal belongings. And I only
load a small amount of those into my car to take to Auburn on this day, some of
my better clothes, toilet articles, the quilt Mother made for me, and
such. Also, from this day until I graduate from Auburn University I will lodge
many nights here in Daddy’s house. But I will lodge more nights elsewhere during
my days as a university student. Therefore it is best to designate this day in
early January 1965 for that major change of moving out from my boyhood home.
In
the boys’ bedroom in this “new” Yerby house, no interior walls were ever
affixed (built). Two outside walls were built on the 2 exterior sides of our
bedroom. A bathroom wall and hallway wall were built on those 2 respective
sides. But, standing inside our bedroom looking at all 4 walls, one sees the
bare 2 by 4 studs (wooden framing boards) of all 4 walls and sees the drab
black tarpaper tacked onto the opposite side of the studs before the boards
were nailed onto the outside of the 2 exterior walls. One sees the backside of
the wooden boards nailed onto the opposite sides of the “studs” of the bathroom
and hallway walls. Daddy’s building plans called for a closet in this bedroom.
The closet was never built. Four large nails were driven into 4 separate studs
high up, for each boy to hang his few clothes (on wire hangers) onto his
respective nail.
During
my 6 years of junior high and high school, I was most blessed to live in
a house that did not leak and that did not have cracks in the walls and floors
(and many other deficiencies of those 2 old houses I had lived in). But the
black tarpaper walls of my bedroom were plenty drab to stare upon. Daddy sincerely intended to build our new
house to completion, but those good intentions were never fulfilled. No big deal really, because I am journeying
to the Celestial City in Heaven. Where are you journeying??
This
frosty day, as I put a few belongings into my car to move out of my boyhood
home (moving to Auburn), mixed emotions whirl around in my heart and soul.
‘This is my home and family. I sort of regret leaving it. Will I be able to
finance 4 years of university study? Will I be able to make passing grades and
graduate from a large university? The future feels so uncertain, stepping out
on my own.’ Amongst such negative and insecure feelings were also different
emotions. ‘I welcome this chance
to physically distance myself from this place where I have experienced much
hard labor and many difficulties all the while I have abided here. And I look forward to making a much better
life for myself from now on!!’
Soon
Janiece gets into the car with me and I depart home. We talk much, riding
together the 3 hours or so to the clinic in Birmingham. Possibly I stayed in
the waiting room during her visit to the doctor and then drove her to the bus
station to catch a bus toward home. I said “Bye” to her and headed down US Hwy
280 toward Auburn. This was my very first time to drive in a city
as large as Birmingham. I was somewhat apprehensive. I had an Alabama state
road map with a small insert map of Birmingham. I studied it well and found my
way OK, thank God. (God has given me a fascination regarding maps and a natural
ability to read maps well.) Thank Thee, Lord.
Likely
we two stopped somewhere and ate something for lunch and then I parted from Janiece
in early afternoon. It was about dark when I reached Auburn. I parked in First
Baptist Church’s parking lot again (with which I was familiar) and there slept
in my car my 1st night at Auburn. (As usual, too poor to give money
to a motel. Likely I forewent supper also.)
Presently,
3 or more boys from Vernon (I know them all) are students at Auburn. During the
Christmas break, I had questioned Tommy in Vernon more than once to get info I
needed, especially info on an available room to rent. “Go to 174 Burton Street
for a cheap room. There are definitely rooms available there. Three (or
so) of us boys who lived there thru the fall quarter got fed up with some
things the landlord did, so we will room elsewhere starting this winter term.
We were mad enough with the landlord that we didn’t tell him we would not be
back in January. But we each removed all our things from our rooms. We will not
go back. He doesn’t know it yet (Heh, Heh), but he has plenty of vacant rooms.”
Quite a story Tommy told me, sort of dripping with vengeance.
My
belongings in my car included bedding I would use in my rented room. So I now
cover myself with a quilt and enough blankets to keep warm in the cold January
night as I lay me down to sleep on the car seat. My Mother had quilted by hand;
sewing quilts with needle and thread. Before her untimely and early death, I
think she had completed a quilt for each 4 children. I brought that treasure with me
to Auburn.
The
next morning, shortly after 7 AM I get out of the car and start walking in
search of Burton Street. I have no idea where Burton Street is, but likely it
isn’t far away in this small town. (What a joy to attend a university located
in a small town.) I like to walk. (Walking is Christ-like.) Also, I don’t like
the dangerous risk of distraction that comes with searching for a destination while
driving. I have no idea which direction Burton Street was from my car. Also, I
don’t know that street is only one block long. Both of these factors could
make my search most difficult. If I don’t come across Burton Street soon, I
will ask someone if they know where it is.
Thank Thee, Lord, for perfectly directing my steps that morn, leading
directly to the nearest thru street running east and west, leading me to go
east on that street, and Burton Street dead-ended into that street a block or
so ahead. Truly All Thy Ways are Perfect, Lord!
174
Burton Street was about a 5-minute walk from my parked car. Tho I had no idea of
its location, the Lord guided me directly to it. Thank Thee, Lord, for
making my way perfect.
Street
signs were in place to identify Burton Street. When I arrived at lot Number
174, I saw a quite large old house with basement rooms for students where the
land sloped down away from Burton Street in front. The somewhat stately (but
old) house had 2 floors above the basement, plus an attic above the 2nd
floor with 1 or 2 student rooms in the attic. I think that all the rooms on all
four floors were now rentals to college guys, except for 1 or 2 rooms the
landlord occupied. That’s many rental rooms, and Tommy knew that more of them
are vacant than the landlord now knows are vacant. Out back there was also a 2
story apartment building (containing 4 apts., 2 up and 2 down) that had been
built in the large backyard many years after the old house had been built. Now
the goal is maximum rental rooms to get max room money.
The
landlord lived on the 1st floor of the large house and he answered
my knock. ‘Good morning, Sir. I’m a new student, wanting to rent a room. Do you
have one available?’
He
led me upstairs to the 2nd floor, knocked on the door to Ray’s room
at the front of the 2nd floor, opened the door and went on in when
there was no answer because Ray was out. He told me I would room with Ray, told
me the cost to rent for the Winter Term, and showed me which one of the 2
single beds and the 2 desks were vacant for me. In my country boy shyness, I
did not have the nerve to even hint to him the things Tommy had told me. I told
him I wanted to stay there. Likely I wrote him a check later that day, as I had
brought nothing with me from my car right now.
I
soon leave him, walk back to the car, drive to my new abode, park, bring in 1
or more cardboard boxes of my things, put them on the bed and walk to campus to
get info on where to register and such. When I come back later, Ray is in the
room. I introduce myself and we shake hands. I am nervous, causing me to once
address this student as “Sir”.
“Other
rooms here are totally empty and available,” Ray told me, preferring to keep
his room to himself alone. I knew that rooms were vacant, but didn’t have the
nerve in my young soul to confront the landlord with that. So I ask upper
classman and veteran resident Ray to ask the landlord if I could have an empty
room. I soon leave and walk back to campus about a third of a mile away. When I
return in the afternoon, Ray shows me the vacant room at the back of the 2nd
floor. “The landlord said you can stay in here for the time being, but if those
former residents show up, you will have to give up this room.” Likely Ray had
lightly hinted to the landlord that those boys would not return. I smile inside,
knowing for sure they will not. So I move into my own
room, thank God, and have it all to myself for this winter and
spring quarters. Refreshing!
There
are 4 rooms on the 2nd floor. Across the narrow hallway from me in
the other back room reside Freddy and his roommate. Freddy is from Sulligent in
Lamar County, 10 miles north of Vernon. Freddy’s older brother, Max (about the
same age as Jerry), had already graduated from Auburn. Freddy and Max know
Jerry well. They often rode together to and from Lamar County on weekends.
Earlier this day, Freddy had strolled into Ray’s room to chat with him. Looking
at the new student’s (my) belongings on the bed, Freddy saw Jerry’s name on an
old “yearly instruction book” (catalog) the university published. Jerry had
given it to me when I told him I planned to enroll at Auburn. Seeing Jerry’s
name on it made Freddy desirous to meet me. When I later return, he talks with
me quite a bit. I’m glad to have a Lamar County guy across the hall from me
here. I begin to feel like I’m fitting in.
Gaining
my own private room with bed, desk, chair and closet, and central
heat, (all for my own personal use and comfort) elevated me to a most welcomed higher plateau of life. I feel precisely
in my element when I am sitting at a desk, reading, writing, or
studying. For the first time in my life, I can now fully freely do those things
because I have my own private room with a nice desk all my own, and comfortably
warm. At home, my bedroom was always cold in the winter. I now
feel like I’m in a Dream World, as I sit studying at my desk in a T-shirt in
this warm room in January.
My
life’s earliest memories regarding such are memories of us 4 children sleeping
on the 2 double beds in our living room. Soon after Mother’s
death, Daddy gave Janiece his and Mother’s bed in that small side room. He
exchanged sleeping spots with her and slept in the bed with Joe in the living
room. When we moved to the old house nearby, we 4 males of the family again slept
on 2 beds in a small bedroom.
Upon
moving into our newly built house at the end of August, Sidney and our
stepbrother Rayburn slept on 1 bed and Joe and I slept on another bed in the
same room (4 boys lodging in 1 room) until the following June or so when
Rayburn left home for the Air Force. Then we 3 brothers shared that bedroom for
more than 5 years till I drove to Auburn yesterday (approx. 6 January 1965) and
slept alone in my car 1 night. I have slept in a private room all to myself
most of the many nights God has given me since that day. Such privacy and
solitude suits me fine.
Thru
out my 6 years of elementary school, we “pore” Yerby kids had not a suitable
place at home to study (do school homework, study for tests, and such). In
early fall and late spring we could sit around anywhere at home, outside or
inside, to study. But the temptature was frigid most school days. Then, we
would huddle near the wood stove or fireplace in the living room with our
books, writing materials and such on our laps. Not good study conditions at
all.
When
I entered 7th grade and Rayburn entered our boys’ bedroom, he placed
his desk in the crowded bedroom, used it himself that year, and then left it. I
studied at it yearly from grades 8 thru 12 when the temptature wasn’t frigid.
In cold weather, I sat near the fireplace in the living room, halfheartedly
trying to keep my eyes off Mrs. Ryan’s TV which was always playing. At this
time, in the evenings, high school graduate Big Sis was constantly prodding us
3 boys to keep our eyes off the TV and on our books instead. At times I would
go sit by the warm fireplace in Janiece’s room to study and do homework. Until
I moved into this warm cozy room at Auburn, I never had a bedroom that was
comfortably warm during cold weather.
“What
a life that must have been!”
‘You
can say that again!’
“What
a life that must have been!”
When
Daddy built our new house, he drew plans for a closet in our (the boys’)
bedroom, but never built the closet. One chest of drawers was in our room. Each
boy got 1 drawer in it for socks, underwear and such. A long nail for each boy
was driven into a wall post high up and I hung my few clothes on hangers onto
my nail, as did each of my brothers. I come to Auburn and get a private room
with a closet all my own. It was almost like a dream for this “pore” boy.
Thank
Thee, my Precious Lord, for this notable day when Thou didst put me into my own
private, comfortably heated and comfortably furnished room on the 2nd
floor of this somewhat stately old wood frame large house in a well-established
and quiet neighborhood. That was such a joy, and an aid to my physical and
mental well-being.
My
first 12 years of life, we pumped water from the well or drew well water with
bucket and rope, heated it on a wood burning stove in cold weather and took a
“sponge” bath near the wood heater (or stove) in the living room or kitchen.
During hot months, we set a washtub a third full of water in the back yard for
the sun to warm it. At nighttime, we set it on the dark back porch where from
the youngest soul to the eldest, we sat in that tub 1 by 1 to scrub down. After
we worked all day in the field on a hot summer day, by the time Daddy (the last
one) took his bath, the bath water had become most murky. That stoic man never
complained.
When
Daddy built our new house, he built a bathroom and installed an old bathtub and
drainage for it. But we had not running water. So we would insert the plug into
the drain and pour in a few buckets of water from the well into our used
bathtub. By now, we had an amazing little water heater. (Likely such little
water heaters got outlawed years ago for safety reasons, to prevent deaths from
electric shock.) It was an oval shape electric heating unit about 2 inches
thick, about 5 inches wide, and close to 10 inches long, with electric cord
attached. Make sure you put the
heating unit into the water before plugging it in, or it will instantly burn
out if plugged in when it is dry. While it is plugged in, do not touch the tub
or the water in it because it will shock you. I got shocked a few times. We
would heat the bath water with that dangerous device capable of delivering a
deadly shock, if one were to accidently fall into the tub when it was heating
water.
I
told you of my 4-H Club trip to Auburn the summer after my 8th grade
year. Staying 5 days in Magnolia Hall, the men’s dorm, I took a shower each
day. That spray of water felt so good on me, I wanted to stay in that shower
forever. Now at 174 Burton Street, we 2nd floor and attic residents all
share a bath with shower on my floor. It’s nice to be able to get so
clean so easily. Thank Thee; Lord, that I can take a clean, refreshing shower
daily.
Also,
on Daddy’s farm we had an outhouse (a stinking, maggot pool outdoor toilet). It
was not pleasant to walk that 20 or so yards to the outhouse in
rain, or cold, or darkness. It is now a pleasure to have an indoor restroom.
1e. For the first time on a regular basis, I gain a shower for a good
bath, an indoor restroom for great convenience, and my own cozy private room
with central heat, bed, desk, chair and closet all for my own personal
use and comfort (after a childhood of sharing a crowded “bedroom” with 2 or 3
other family members).
I register for the courses I choose
and start classes. It’s an immense relief to finally become a
university student, as this one term delay (not starting in September) gave me
plenty of doubts and fears regarding even getting a start at
higher education.
1f. I enter a university.
My
19th birthday falls upon me in January 1965.
I want to wait to a later chapter to talk
of my studies and now close this chapter speaking of one other pleasant plane
to which Almighty God elevates me at this time.
Upon
arriving at Auburn, I eat sparingly because I have little money. I vaguely know
student jobs are available, working for meals each mealtime in any of the
several school cafeterias. But I need to spend every minute studying diligently
just to pass university level studies. So I determine not to work
part time.
But
I get hungrier and hungrier. One day, walking past Tiger Cub Café (downtown on
College Street) (Auburn’s sports teams were “Tigers”), I see their sign wanting
part time help. I go in and inquire. He only needs someone to work 1 meal or so
each of the 5 weekdays. I ask for the job because it will not take much of my
time and will put 5 meals into my empty stomach each week without taking any
money out of my almost empty pocketbook. He hires me and I begin working.
The
owner is busy. Often he’s not there when I work. His job instructions to me are
insufficient because I’m a country boy unfamiliar with restaurants. He
naturally assumes I know much more about life in town than I do. I’m to wait on
tables. Lack of knowledge causes me to be too shy and reserved for the job (not
aggressive enough). So after a week or so, the owner tells me he has more help
now than he needs (a false excuse), so he must let me go.
I’m
sort of relieved because his ways with me made the job vexing. Also, he only
allowed me a basic, slim meal for an hour’s work. At breakfast: “You may
have 2 eggs, bacon or sausage, toast, grits, and coffee. You cannot have
seconds on those and you cannot have juice or milk unless you pay for them.” The
days I worked for my supper, I could have the basic meal with
bread and tea (and possibly salad). No dessert and no seconds. I could pay the
restaurant’s price for any of these forbidden foods if I wanted to eat them
with my meager fare. He was sort of stingy. That was unpleasant.
Anyway,
the job ends in about a week and I now revert to eating more sparingly and
being hungrier. Thank God this hungry period lasts only 10 days or so before
God shows great mercy upon me to put me into what becomes the most pleasant factor of my
college days and that pleasure lasts till even a few months after I
graduate from Auburn.
Tommy
(from Vernon) works full time (every meal) in a cafeteria on campus. One
evening he stops by my room. “I want to be away some this weekend and need a
substitute to work for me. Will you sub for me?” OK. Tommy tells me exactly
where the dining hall is, what time I’m to go there (for Friday supper, I
think) and tells me to report to Clem, the student boss of the student workers.
So I do.
I
walk there and report on time to Clem. We workers come early and eat first before
we open the cafeteria line to serve the paying students (who have meal tickets).
Clem tells me to serve my own plate, walking down the backside of the serving
line where the food is accessible, and then come eat at the table nearest the
front with the other student workers (8 or so guys).
I
almost have to pinch myself to see if I’m dreaming. Lined up are a choice of 2
meats, 2 starches, 2 veggies, dessert or fruit, 2 or more salads, 1 kind of
bread, and milk, tea, or coffee. Paying students with meal tickets are limited
in what they may have, but they may have seconds on veggies, salads, and tea.
We workers are totally unlimited
regarding choices and seconds, and
thirds. I think I worked the
following breakfast for Tommy. There are 2 breakfast meats, 2 styles of eggs,
grits or cereal, toast, choice of fruit juices, also milk, hot chocolate, or
coffee. Again, no limit on what I may eat as a worker. Each meal, I may eat as
much as I want, of any and all foods put out for that meal, (to be consumed
there at meal time, but we are forbidden to take food back to our rooms with
us). So different from stingy Tiger Cub owner.
“Starving
college boy Richard, did you bankrupt the dining hall with the mountain of food
you consumed at each meal?”
‘No,
but I might have come close to doing so. Starving me ate to the full and was
most thankful for such a great blessing!’
Student
workers who serve on the food line an hour or so get their meal in return for
that work. Tommy works the dishwasher. It involves a little more drudgery. So
dishwasher workers also receive $1 per day in addition to all they can eat. I
work for Tommy 3 meals that weekend. The next time he see me, he gives me a $1.
The total paycheck went to him, not to the substitute. So he paid me.
“What
did you say to him, thin wallet Richard?”
‘Thank you, Tommy.’
Just
as the roofing boss, Supervisor Clem quickly sees that I’m a good worker. “Do
you want to substitute any time we need a sub (mostly on weekends when some
workers go home)?”
‘Yes,
Sir!’ From then on till the end of the winter term (a period of 3 or 4
weeks), I work a few meals each weekend. I soon ask to work full time the next
term, spring quarter starting after mid-March. “You’re hired.”
‘Thank
you, Clem!’
Young Soul Reading This, you be a diligent,
honest, hard worker and you will stand the best chance of getting
hired and keeping the job.
“Now,
college boy Richard, you have been savoring the sweetest aspect
of this cafeteria job to tell it last, haven’t you?”
‘Yep!’
It’s
a girls’ cafeteria. At this time, all single co-eds (female students)
at Auburn are required to live in one of the university dorms (forbidden to
live off campus). Girls’ dorms are in 4 separate areas, each area with its
dining hall. The cafeteria where I work serves newly built Dorms A, B, and C. It
greatly brightens my life seeing many nice, sweet Southern belles 3 times a
day, to make friends among them and to date some of them. I will speak more
of that later.
“No
doubt you will, happy college boy Richard.”
1g. I gain part-time employment in a co-ed cafeteria at Auburn, thus
eating 3 wholesome meals a day (as much as I want to eat) and having the
delightful job of serving meals to lovely, sweet Southern belles. (Nothing
toilsome about this work)