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My Dad, Johnie Howell, passed away when I was 14. I clearly remember that day, August 24, 1964. It was to have been my first day in high school. My sister, Dotty's, was to begin her teaching career on this day. Linda Sue had just left for college. Rose was a junior in high school, Brenda was in the seventh grade and Faye was in the fifth. Kim, of course was just two, a baby (and still is). Even though we were all young and had places to go and things to see, our entire world, as we knew it, was getting ready to change. Little did we know, things would never be the same....and they weren't ......
He was only 43. Fun loving and cheerful. He
thought "his girls" were the most special in the world. He loved to pull
pranks on people. Every summer he took us camping which was loads
of fun, but I am certain my mom really had to work. I can remember
waiting, as a small child, at the top of the hill for him to get home from
the mines. He always brought us something home in his dinner bucket.
Whether it was a part of a cake or a half a cheese sandwich, it was exciting
to get it. We were not hungry, it had became a game.
As soon as he came in sight we would take off running to see who got to
the bucket first. Mom told us later that he would sometimes stop
at "Girdis", a little country store, and buy something to put in his dinner
bucket for us, just so we would not be disappointed.
One of my most treasured memories was of a Christmas when my dad had been very ill. He had been in the Veterans Hospital in Huntington, W.Va. for about a month. This was about a two hour drive from us. We had no car. So we knew we were going to have to spend the Christmas without dad. The hospital sent us each a new present. Times were really hard then, there wasn't any food stamps or disability payments to help a man's family when he got sick. Mom and my sister, Linda, worked at a little restaurant in the area but that barely kept the lights on and us fed. As I look back, I can not help but wonder how many young girls, seniors in high school, would give up their spare time to work in a restaurant to help keep their family going? I never remember hearing Linda Sue complain about it. She seemed happy she could help.
The church came and brought us some gifts and food. Mom seemed embarrassed; things had never been this bad before. The snow was pouring outside. After opening the gifts, a knock came at the door. Living in an isolated area, Mom answered the door. She let out a scream that made us all jump and look. There was my Dad. He had signed himself out of the hospital and thumbed home!!! I remember snow was on the top of his head. After Christmas he had to go back to the hospital. Mom ask him why he signed out and thumbed all that way and he replied that he could not bear the thought of spending Christmas away from his family. That was our last Christmas with him.
He was not supposed to die until we were grown and no longer needed him, but he did. With one last long breath, he was gone. This huge man that I had known and depended on all my life was loaded in a jeep and taken to a nearby hospital. I can remember walking past his bedroom and seeing my oldest sister, Dotty giving him CPR. My mom just kept standing there with a wet rag rubbing his forehead saying" Johnie, Johnie, talk to me". I don't think she ever thought he would die. She was 40 years old. They had seven girls to raise.
I made my two younger sisters, Brenda Kaye and Faye, get out of bed and pray. I knew things were bad but did not think he would die. Only a couple hours earlier, he had seen a doctor at the emergency room The doctor had given him pain medicine and sent him home. Surely if he had been gravely ill, the doctor would have put him in the hospital. After praying we all laid back down. I am sure Dotty went with Mom, so Rose was probably responsible for Kim (the baby). Sue had already left for college.
A few hours later, Dotty came in and
woke us to tell us that dad had passed away. We ask why, she said
heart attack. That wasn't the answer we were looking for. She
instructed us to all be good, because Mom would soon be there and was in
terrible shape. This really struck fear in our hearts. I just
wanted to see my mom come home. One of us ask if Mom was going to
die too? She was all we had .
Poor Dotty, as I think about that
night (which I seldom do) and the time afterwards, I realize that she was
always the one who carried the most responsibility. Even now, we
still go to her with concerns, but Mom is still "Boss". Seems we
all showed her the same respect and admiration that we did mom.
..
We all made it through the funeral but things were truly never the same. My mother grieved terribly. She loved him so. To this day, when she speaks of him, you can still see it. He died August 24, 1964.
To my Dad, Thank you for all you did for us. Thank you for giving us life and never allowing us to forget that we were "Special." We Love and miss you deeply .
Carol #4
