3-6 years—(cont)

          So far I have told a few boring stories, a couple of funny ones, and a couple of very true shortened stories about child molesting. I ask that you keep reading as I grow because things do get funnier, unbelievable, and will make more sense by telling you the earlier ones in the order that they happened. When I get older I will be jumping years that didn’t mean much, or even start telling them out of order. I assure you that, especially the people that know me, will be blown away. I, also, ask that you try not to leave rude comments. I will be glad to read criticisms. And if you are in any of the situations, I hope that you talk to someone. If you are afraid to talk to family or close friends, I have a private contact page that only I can see the information you send. I WILL respond. If you get bored or curious, just look into my picture gallery it should give you a few laughs. I will keep adding pictures as I go along.

“When a child is looking to be noticed”

          There comes a time in every child’s life that they want to be noticed above their siblings. The youngest or the eldest are usually the ones that try the hardest. There are 7 years difference between Billy Boy and me. I watched very carefully what the older kids did that got them in trouble or got me praise for something. I put this in my memory because it saved me from whippings later in my childhood. It was a big plus that my closest brother, Darrell, stayed in trouble all the time. This taught me how to keep myself “clean” even when I was the culprit. (I will do a blog just on Darrell and me when I get to my teens. Many funny things will come from that)
After I was abused the first few times, I began feeling special. Above that, I began getting a big head because my mom would have me do things like spelling big words, doing math, and give definitions to words to people we ran into. Always hearing how “smart” you are tends to make you believe it. The closer I got to school age, the more I realized that I wanted to learn. And mostly, I wanted to be the best in what I did. All this I credit to my siblings. It wasn’t soon before I was considered the smart kid in the family! But the others were the ones who taught me. They just didn’t know it.

“Getting lost at the State Fair of Texas”

          When I was 5, in 1966, my mom took us kids to the State Fair for the day. Around 10 a.m., we went into the Automobile Building. They always had a children’s size car as a drawing and it caught my attention. I let go of my mom and headed over to sign up for the drawing. When I came back, my family was gone! I went around the building MANY times but with no luck. I went out the side door to see if they left the building. I ran directly into a family I knew and immediately explained my predicament. (Now, this family was well known in Seagoville. They went to our church and they knew my family very well.) The father suggested that I go back in to the building and look again. I did, but with no luck.

          When I came back outside to tell the family I still was lost, they had disappeared. I was stunned. I thought I had help, but they left me! I began going around the Fair looking through ALL the buildings, searching the Midway, and ending back where I started. Since I was 5, I got into the Fair for free, so I went back to make sure the car was still there. I felt safe as long as the car was still there. Every time that I went through the gate, I talked to the ticket taker, I would make a round about every 20 minutes looking for my family and then returned back to the gate

          Around noon, I was hungry and the man gave me a half sandwich and a shasta to eat and drink. Never once did he tell me to go to lost and found or the police station. I did not know they had one. I went back out to the car, and this time, I got on top of the hood. I fell asleep and when I awoke, it was getting darker. My feet were hurting because of my shoes, so I took my shoes and socks off and placed them on both sides of a tire so if my family left, they would run over them and know that I had been there.

          I went back to the gate, but the man was no longer there. I told the new man my situation and he just suggested that I keep going around looking for them.(Darrell and I were both wearing the same shirt. It was a Dallas Cowboy jersey with the same number on them.) The man said that was what people would be looking for to find me. The next round I took, I stopped at Big Tex and sat on the wall there. I figured people would wonder why I was by myself AND bare footed. Still, nothing happened.

          I was getting hungry again and back then, the Food Building gave free samples of food to people. I circle the building 3-4 times eating samples until I was full. It was getting very dark and I went back to the gate and checked to see if the car was still there. It was, so I did not panic. Around 8pm, I started to make another round when a motorcycle cop stopped and asked if I had a brother wearing the same shirt. When I said “yes”, he put me on the cycle and took me to the police station. 

          When I saw my mom coming out of the door, I ran to her and finally started crying. I was both very happy and afraid that I was in trouble. My siblings came out and even though we hugged each other, they were very mad at me because mom had not let them do anything all day until I was found. Mom let us ride ONE ride and then we went home. After telling everyone what I did all day, they were more forgiving. On Sunday, at church, my mom had a PRIVATE conversation with the family that I had met. I did not hear her, but her finger was pointing and she did not look happy. I was just glad I was back with my family.

“Going to school”

          In our town, we did not have Kindergarten, we had Pre-school. 6 weeks out of the summer, we would go to school for half a day to teach us the “Do’s and Don’ts” about being in a classroom. They taught us classroom rules, rules for the bathroom, and how to stay in line in the hallways. I could not wait to begin first grade I did have a problem with having to go to the bathroom many times and I just pretended that it had dried by the time it was to go home.(I learned to control things before second grade.)

          Here is something to try to do. Name all your homeroom teachers from 1st-12th grade. For me, they were: 1-Mrs. Mangan, 2-Mrs. Kattner, 3-Mrs. Terguson, 4-Mrs. Miller, 5-Mrs. Morris (Mr. Clopton, Mrs. Welch), 6-Miss Swain (Mrs. Cunningham),(7-8) Mr. Durr, (9-12) Mr. Birch. That’s how much school meant to me. It was so funny to me everytime a teacher would ask me if I was the LAST Scherzer. For most of the years my siblings and I would have the same teacher in the designated class at least 2 a year. Darrell left a very high bar for me to reach to prove we were brothers, but not the same. Remember, my cousins went to Seagoville before we did and they assumed we all were like them.

          My 3rd and 4th grades were very important in my life, so I will make this Blog short. Get ready for some surprises that even my best friends did not ever know.

• 21st Jun 2017
• mylife
• 3 Comments
• Uncategorized