In the beginning I was there but I have been negligent in revealing the dreaded baby picture. You know, the awe he’s so cute picture. Well, here it is. It’s not a very good photo, but then again when you’ve seen one new born you’ve seen them all. Thank God it’s not the naked baby picture. Joyce loved to embarrass me with that one by showing it to my girlfriends. Of course they thought it was cute. You’ll see that my mother had a way with my girlfriends. They became very attached to her and remained in contact with her even after we were no longer together.
Education started very early for me. On June 7, 1961 I smiled for the first time. Joyce was ecstatic that I smiled at her. So much so that she had to record it in my baby book. Six days after the first smile, I began to laugh. Even then I was a quick learner. At ten months I took my first step. This was the beginning of my rein of terror. Joyce assisted me in the walking process by placing me in a walker. Big mistake, I used the walker as a racecar. I would speed around the house, knocking things over, pulling things off of the kitchen and coffee table. I quickly learned how to change the channel on the television as well as turn it on and off from my walker. I would run into Joyce and laughed while she yelled at me. What can I say, I was a kid who wanted to play not take a nap. The time for napping was the time for sneakiness. That’s what Joyce called it. She would lay me down to sleep and I would get up when she left the room. I didn’t like taking naps. I guess I was afraid I would miss out on valuable play time, walker crashes into mommy. I learned how to behave by taps on the butt. My taurian stubbornness was a challenge for Joyce and she made sure I had a soft behind, since my head was so hard. The rod was not spared and I somehow still became spoiled. It must have been all the Godparents, great aunts (aunts) and family friends who spoiled me. Like I said, I always got what I wanted. There were too many people who fell for my charming skills. Unlike most children, my first words were “oh boy”. “Dada” came later. By January 19, 1962 I began speaking in full sentences. This was a sure sign that I would be different. Joyce had no idea of how different I would become.
The first twelve months of my existence were quite interesting for Joyce. She experienced and recorded the joys of motherhood. She wrote:
At two months Eddie is really spoiled. He eats for two babies and is growing like a weed. After six weeks he has grown out of some of his clothes. I think we should buy a cow and a store for him. He has an appetite like his mother’s.
August 1, 1961, two and a half almost three months, Little Eddie has turned completely over in his crib. We had him on his stomach and he turned over for the first time onto his back and started laughing and played with his toys.
At three months Eddie is putting his fingers in his mouth. The same two that his mother use too. He is spoiled rotten. He gargles with his own saliva and pushes his lips up and makes funny noises. He even wets more than he use to.
She continued to go on about my first move, car ride, and party attendance. According to Joyce, I had a temper like Nana and I loved to play in water, with her pots and pans, and trash cans – Nana’s beer cans. On April 10, 1962, I was hospitalized for pneumonia and a temperature of 107° after attending my Cousin Celeste’s birthday party. I don’t know what I did there but it sure made me sick. I was probably playing in water. I spent five days in the hospital, which was an omen that I would experience the same thing again, again, and again, during the same time period later in life. “Who knew”? Only God knew the plan for my life. He should have warned somebody. Maybe he did and we just didn’t heed the warning.
At the age of four months Eddie or Pookie is holding his own bottle and is off his formula. He is also cutting teeth but they’re not through yet. November 5, 1961 – Today Eddie or Pookie was christened at Morning Star Missionary Church.
I won second prize in a cute baby contest on December 9, 1962 at the Payne A.M.E. church even though I slept through the entire service. This was before my sister Jaqueline was born, the scar on the left side of my face and burn discoloration of my legs from hot water.
The sound of the crashing glass startled Joyce while she was preparing dinner for Daddy; this was a time period where they were actually living together as man and wife. He was trying to live up to his vows. I was sitting in my high chair at the kitchen table while mommy was cooking. Daddy place an empty milk bottle on the table while mommy’s back was turned and left the kitchen. Now remember, I liked to play with cans and bottles; so that’s what I did. While playing with the bottle it began to fall off the table. I reached for it and fell out of the high chair. The bottle hit the floor and as it was shattering, the left side of my face hit the glass and the floor. The left side of my face was cut open from the corner of my lip through the left side of my cheek. The glass cut right through the skin and you could see my teeth. When mommy heard the breaking glass she turned just when I hit the floor. She saw the blood squirting up and fainted. Daddy, being a father at that time, quickly revived Joyce, placed towels and pressure to my face, wrapped me up in blanket, put us all in the red and white convertible caddy and sped off to the hospital.
Now, the strange thing is that I was barely three years old and have flashes of the ride to the hospital. I remember going over a bridge, the caddy, an old white male doctor, the cold table I was laying on and the bright white lights shining in my face. I don’t remember the pain or the accident as foretold. Joyce relayed the details to me. A hypnotist could help me remember the trauma but why in the world would I want to do that. I’m not traumatized by it even though I’ve had to tell how I got the scar over and over again. Most people think I was in a fight. I was and I lost to the bottle.
The discoloration of my legs due to the burn by hot water happened later. All I remember is the attempt to sit in a tub of hot water, but the flash isn’t clear. I don’t know if I climbed in on my own or was placed in by my gay cousin baby sitter, Charles. Joyce doesn’t know for sure, but her motherly intuition suspects the latter. I had a few gay cousins; Charles was the only one out at the time. Charles claims that he was running my bath when the phone rang. He left me in the bathroom, with the water still running, alone and went to answer it. While he was on the phone he heard me scream. He ran into the bathroom and pulled me out of the tub. This story could be true, but how do you explain that I was only burned on my ankles, shins, and slightly on the front of my legs. My thighs were not scarred, hmmm. It sounds like someone was placing me in the tub to me. Fortunately, Child Protective Services did not intercede and conduct an investigation or is that unfortunately. At that time child protective agencies didn’t really exist or had the power that they do now. They weren’t as strict back then. Needless to say, Charles no longer baby-sat me. Since, he was my cousin I would see him from time to time when I got older.
Recently, I discovered the truth about my legs…
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