TCC: The Second Crumb, Part I

No, it is not that I was unwelcome. In fact: just the opposite was true. For my parents had been praying for a child for several years; but it was not long before their eyes would glaze-over whenever they heard any reference unto the old adage: be careful with what you ask for because you just might get it.

Yes, hop-scotching from job to job became much more of an "adventure" with me in tow. For pipeliners generally had a reputation not so unlike that of cowboys on a cattle drive to start with; and it certainly did not help matters much when at 9 months of age I hit the ground a-runnin' (so I have been told). So: many landlords would not even talk to my parents about renting us a place to stay. Did they not have Benadryl back then???

The winter of 1962-3 was eventful. For my parents had built a fabulous house overlooking Table Rock Lake in a subdivision near Hollister, MO that came to be called "Poverty Point" by the locals because of the affluence of those who built homes there. Yes, my father made very good money for that time; but we certainly did not rank up there with the doctors, lawyers, and celebrities who came to be our neighbors. For I can remember him saying in 1964 (I think) that no one was worth being paid 6 dollars an hour.

Perhaps our being there amongst hillbilly royalty and the elite had something or another to do with being the second house built in that location? For the lots may have not been very expensive at first; and let us not discount the fact that it was during the early 60's. For a shrewd person could get a lot for just a little (not so much) by today's standards.

Anyway: moving into the new house by the lake was not the only thing worth noting about the winter of 1962-3. For just after Thanksgiving Day: my mother left for about 3 weeks; and I found-out that my father could only cook eggs and hot dogs. Needless to say: we both eagerly a-waited her return; but when she did come home: she was not alone!

They named him: Terry Alan Beuterbaugh; and I was absolutely fascinated with my baby brother, who was born on December 14, 1962 in Newport, AR (just like me!!!). Then the new wore off; and I went back unto my job of being the center of attention in every situation possible.

Yes, my job had become a lot harder with that cute, cuddly newborn around; but I was quite resourceful for my age. One time: I went as far as to suck a holly berry up my nose after being told (repeatedly) not to; and off to the doctor's office in Branson, MO we went. When the good doctor came at me with a tool to remove the berry from my nasal passage: I hollered "hold it" in a very loud voice, put a finger in the unobstructed nostril, and then promptly blew the berry across the room. The doctor cracked-up; and my mother was mortified. Mission accomplished!!!

Alas, there were also times when I attracted too much attention unto myself. One of those times was when I played "Guess Who?" with my Hollister School Bus driver. No, there was nothing necessarily wrong with that; but the trouble was that he was driving the bus at the time. Thankfully, the bus got stuck on a guard-rail on the side of the mountainous road after turning on its side. For instead of there being multiple deaths and serious injuries to report: only a few scrapes and bruises occurred. I was physically unhurt; but I still get a little shaky whenever I must pass through a very tall doorway because of how tall the Hollister Elementary School Principal's Office door was. I swear: it must have been 20 feet tall; but I suppose that my tall-door phobia has more to do with what happened unto me after I went through the Principal's Office door than with the door itself.