As a child we had a Diner with curb service, Dad worked the counter and Momma did the cooking, and I and my six brothers and sisters waited on the cars outside. The unbelievable part is some of the things that happened over the years. My four brothers and I used to play music out front which drew in customers. One of the unbelievable things that happened, one time was Daddy's cousin who came in bleeding from the chest with a gunshot wound, Daddy said DA you are bleeding and need to go to a hospital, he said I know J, but just give me a beer, then I will go. Mamma tried to persuade him but he kept insisting he wanted that beer, so Daddy gave him one, and then he went to the hospital and he did live that time. I found out later it was Grandma my mother's mother who shot him at her bar down the street, which at that time I didn't even know she had. I was maybe nine yo then and shocked watching DA stand there bleeding drinking a beer.
We had a house across the street in front of the restaurant we lived at. My brother Bobby used to sleepwalk and cross the street at night, asleep, it's a miracle he was not hit by a vehicle. There was a small building in the restaurant parking lot which we took turns sleeping in, and I guess Bobby was swapping beds in his sleep at night, only two of my brothers were sleepwalkers, Bobby, and my youngest brother. He used to jump up and run round and round the house until I caught him and woke him up. They say you should wake them, I don't know, didn't hurt him that I know of. Marie was a sleepwalker too. One night she took off while we were in bed and would have run into the wall I'm sure if I hadn't caught her by the wrist and woken her. The reason we used the other building is that there were so many of us, especially with friends who visited us at the time.
Speaking of sleep walkers I was really bad about sleep walking, Momma always worried about me staying in high rise motels, or apts. On one of my walks while visiting my Aunt I went next door and took all the clothes off her neighbor's 2 clothesline and put them on Aunt Emilys couch. What a ruckus that caused, they thought I was stealing their clothes and aunt Emily thought I was a stupid thief to do that. She was a real religious woman. Wondered how I thought she would allow me to give her the stolen property. One night I jumped through a upstairs window and landed right at the end of the roof hanging over the street. I always knocked out windows in my sleep and ran around the house. I wasn't a welcome guest to spend the night with friends, the door was always blocked in my sleep I woke up another time half naked a few blocks from home, not knowing where I was. I had to always be dressed for the occasion after that. I stopped sleep walking in my 40s.
Some of the things that have happened to some of us, make you wonder "how in the world", did they live through it? I have a bunch of stories, that are really hard to believe, and of course, the final fate, of DA, but want to hear from some others first. ,
Don't know if this goes with this thread/topic or not, but.............I was just thinking this morning about all of rock stars that have died of overdosing drugs. Then I thought about all of the living rock stars that haven't, but sure have had their share of drugs.
I think it does, sure is strange or "unbelievable", how some go early, and others live, like Rolling Stones, and Steven Tylor for instance. Thread is about family, and some here may be kin to some of them.
Yes, I thought about both of them, as well as the entire Led Zepplin band. Also thought about the members of Jefferson Airplane/Starship.
Yeah, my oldest sister, did an ancestry fact-check and paid for it, for Momma, before she passed, so that's how I found out I'm kin to both of them.
The ones who went early, went real early, like Janice, Hendrix, and Jim Morrison, just to name a few of them.
Unbelievable stories from our family? We are weird. No doubt about it. My niece has asbergers (?) but my brother raised her to be her own person. About 7 years ago, not being able to find a job in her home state of New Hampshire, she mounted on her bike (bicycle) and rode off the get a job at the Grand Canyon resorts. Her bike broke down in Nebraska and my brother sent her the money to get a bus ticket. When she got to the north rim, she found it was closed for the season. But the south rim stays open. So she climbed down the north rim path, crossed the bottom of the canyon, climbed the south rim path and got the job. Because of her handicap either way you look at it. I believe she was forty.
Mary sounds like an incredibly determined person to me. Your brother must have done a great job raising her, it seems to me.
A lot of the stories about my family revolve around funerals, which is one of the main reason I don't want a funeral. Here's one: I was five years old and remember this vividly. My dad's uncle had been shot by the husband of a woman he was messing around with. Of course, the family version of the story was that he was shot by mistake. OK. Day of the funeral in a small country church. Mourners gather, the widow, Betty, was escorted in and sat her very large self in the front pew. Service is just getting started when the girlfriend (let's not call her anything) sashays in dressed in full mourning and long black veil and seats herself in a pew about halfway down the aisle. Then she starts a-mourning, "Oh, Hank, you were too good for this world. Oh, Hank, why did you have to leave us? Oh, why did God have to take you from us" etc., etc. This goes on for a couple of minutes and then Big Betty gets herself up, throws back her long black veil and stomps back down the aisle. Before anyone can stop her, she snatches Girlfriend out of the pew, throws her to the floor, kneels on her and starts waling on her. Yanks her hair, gives her a good punch, says some highly uncomplimentary things about her heritage and morals, etc., etc. My mother is trying to keep me from standing up in the pew but I'm really, really interested in what's going on. All l can see from where I am standing on the pew is Betty's dress, which has worked up to her waist and her very large yellowed girdled rear end flashing all and sundry. A couple of the men manage to pull Betty off Girlfriend, get Betty patted down and back into the front pew and get Girlfriend hustled out of the church. Funeral resumes. No more excitement. As I said, no funeral for me.
This really made me laugh out loud because I've seen it more than once with my family and friends. How old were you then Mary?