Thornton / Jr. To Walk With My Brother

A Story of Courage, Humor and Love
1. Auflage 2012
ISBN: 978-1-937721-05-3
Verlag: Peter E. Randall Publisher
Format: EPUB
Kopierschutz: Adobe DRM (»Systemvoraussetzungen)

E-Book, Englisch, 208 Seiten

Wayne Thornton had the misfortune of becoming a paraplegic in the early 1950s, at the age of six. This tragedy became the foundation for a life that transcended the limits such a disability might have imposed. He learned to drive a car, graduated from college and enjoyed a successful career as an accountant until his death in 2011. Supported by the love of a close-knit Southern community, Wayne also inspired others to reach their goals. His eldest sister, Evelyn, shares Wayne's story with love, humor and celebration. She lets us know just what it was like to walk with her brother.

Autoren/Hrsg.

Thornton, Evelyn

Jr.,

Leseproben

Chapter Four THE AFTERMATH Days of quiet desperation had followed that fateful first visit to the clinic in Carthage. The Thornton household had offered prayers in the hope that God would grant a miracle cure for Wayne’s paralysis. No such miracle was in the offing. The days became weeks, and then the second month passed. Not once during that time had Melvin attempted to confront the doctor. It was obviously an extremely delicate issue, one of great anger and pain lying just below the level of the spoken word. Carthage is, however, a small city, and people can’t avoid one another for long. The chances are great that two people, no matter how much they wish not to see each other, will do just that. Such was the case one Saturday in April of that year. Melvin, like most men of the South, measured other men by the diligence of their labor and the honesty by which they transact business. Melvin was raised that way, and it was one of the many elements of his personality that attracted Melba to him. He was fair and forthright, and his belief was that he should be dealt with accordingly. With no explanation or apology from the doctor regarding Wayne’s condition, however, Melvin’s anger deepened and smoldered, and he knew that no matter how much he struggled to keep his temper under wraps, he might erupt at the mere sight of the man he had been trying to avoid. That day happened not long after that tragic Sunday in February when Melvin and Melba had taken Wayne to the doctor’s office. The doctor was on his way into town from a business appointment in an outlying region. It had been with great effort that the physician tried to put Wayne’s paralysis from his mind and carry on his medical profession. So successful was he at removing the incident from thought that he failed to notice that he was passing the Thornton store just as his right front tire blew and spun his car onto the sandy driveway of the store. When the dust settled, he realized that he was now in perilous danger. The doctor gulped as he noted exactly where the car had come to rest. There, looking from the store window, was Melvin Thornton. Thornton’s brow knotted as he watched the doctor attempt to work open the door to his car. “I warned you on that Sunday,” Melvin hollered, not bothering to rise from the stool near the cash register. “You were never to come near me, my family, or my property. Now, getting out of your car is not even a consideration!” The doctor slowly closed the door to his car without getting out. He realized that if he were to call for help, he would need to use the phone inside the store. If he were to change the tire himself, he would of course need to exit his vehicle. Certainly Mr. Thornton was aware of his predicament. The doctor managed a sheepish grin and attempted to open the door again. “Sir, you have been warned not to be anywhere near me, and I’m not in the habit of repeating simple instructions. Move on!” The doctor again slowly closed the door, but he kept his fingers on the door handle. Certainly Mr. Thornton is a reasonable man, he figured. He has to understand that it is miles to town. The air temperature is rising, and I can’t remain inside this vehicle interminably. He opened the door, cleared his throat, and attempted to voice something as he swung his legs out the door and stepped onto the dusty driveway. This was an invitation that Mr. Thornton wished had never presented itself. In one fluid motion, he bolted from the stool and unconsciously grabbed the first handy item as he flew out the door. The item happened to be a tire iron, and Melvin’s target was the doctor’s legs. The doctor saw the rage burning on Thornton’s face and began backing toward his car. “No, wait, please,” he begged, thrusting his hands before him in supplication. “You don’t understand. My tire is—Aggh!” Melvin didn’t wait for an explanation. He swung the heavy iron tool at the side of the doctor’s calf and sent him crashing against the fender of the car and onto the ground. He was about to deliver a second, equally devastating blow when he saw that the doctor’s trouser leg had ridden midway up the man’s calf. A leg brace was clearly visible. Melvin stood poised to strike. Muttering to himself for having struck a physically disabled person, he cursed and hurled the iron to the ground. Unable to even look at the man whom he blamed for his son’s condition, Melvin left the doctor lying in the dust and strode back inside the garage. Choking back tears of frustration, he made two calls: the first was to the local ambulance service; the second was to the Mud Cat Gas Station for a tow truck. Sometime that summer, Melvin was summoned to court for assaulting the doctor. A jury had been assembled, and court was about to begin when the foreman of the jury asked to approach the bench. The conversation with the judge was brief and hushed. He told the judge that everyone knew that Melvin had assaulted the doctor. There was no denying it. Most people would say that the doctor was, in all likelihood, responsible for the paralysis of the assailant’s son, and that no assembled jury in that county would find Mr. Thornton guilty of the charge of assault. The judge leaned back in his chair to consider the information he had just received. It was not, in fact, news to him. In Carthage, word of calamities traveled rapidly. After a short deliberation, the judge quietly summoned the prosecuting attorney to the bench and just as quietly, if not possibly illegally, instructed the attorney to direct his client to dismiss all charges and get on with his life. The huddle between client and attorney was not as brief as the one between the attorney and the judge. The doctor reddened visibly and began to stand to voice his displeasure at the same moment that the judge slammed his gavel down on the bench to dismiss all charges. Seated at the defendant’s table, Melvin sat in shocked silence at the proceedings. He had been certain that he would be incarcerated and fined. With Melba’s hand resting atop his, he lowered his head and offered a small prayer of thanksgiving for not receiving punishment for his transgression. He and his wife were about to stand when a single voice came from a figure at the table for the prosecution. It was a low, trembling voice and spoken solely for his ears. “As I said before, I want you to understand that I didn’t give Wayne anything to cause him to be this way.” Stunned to the point of nearly collapsing back into his chair, Melvin eyed the doctor with quiet resolve. He wanted to smash his fist into the face of the man who had been a party to the serious harm done to Wayne, but he had been forgiven once for lashing out. The chances were that he would not receive a pass for a second assault. “Oh, one more thing,” the doctor said before leaving the courtroom. The physician’s limp was now obvious to any observer. “There are to be no charges from the clinic for that day.” With that, the doctor pulled down his fedora to the point of nearly touching his eyebrows, turned on his heel, and scuttled from the court. All communications between the doctor and the Thornton family were terminated forevermore. Melvin sat quietly as the courtroom continued to empty. He had been looking down at Melba’s strong hand still resting atop his own. After several moments, he raised his eyes to look into the eyes of his wife. He smiled at her and sighed. “You know, Melba, I don’t believe I had ever considered paying that man a red cent. Now at least I won’t worry about a bill coming in.” They both smiled for a moment and then they left the courtroom. Melba’s head was on Melvin’s shoulder, and Melvin’s arm was around her waist. The white wooden house stood several hundred yards back from the country road. The property had been in the Thornton family for several generations. All four children of the current generation of Thorntons—Evelyn, Glen, Katherine, and Wayne—had been born in this house. In the heat and humidity of central Mississippi, wooden structures always seem to be in constant need of paint or repair, or both. At the moment, the old house didn’t require any further attention. The ramp, added to the front porch in the early days of spring, would be the only change to the property the house would have this year. Melvin had constructed the sturdy ramp. There was no doubt that, with care, the addition would last many years to come. Both he and Melba were satisfied with his work, but both shuddered each time they had to use it. It was the most unwanted addition they could have imagined, and they never dreamed they would need such a thing. But it was the only way that Wayne could come and go from that simple white house. Melba recalled the tears in her husband’s eyes when he looked down on the just- completed project. When she placed her arm around his waist, he sighed and whispered to her that he was remembering how not long ago Wayne loved to visit him in the store and ride his tricycle up and down the aisles, and sometimes on just two wheels! Melba also remembered, and she wiped a tear or two from her eyes. Quickly, however, she had gone back inside and returned to her chores in the kitchen. For several months, Melvin and Melba were reluctant to accept the reality that their youngest son would never again walk. They kept their hopes private, but they were not always able to keep their anger or sadness hidden. During quiet moments, often without a word spoken, one or the other or both might find a hitch in their speech when the reality of...