Where Cotton Grows

Life lived in a small town reaches beyond the very dreams we all share. Most never realize this until they reach the age of being too old to enjoy it! I have always, in my heart and mind, lived the life of a small town boy, growing up poor, yet in so many ways being very rich. I can recall family visits on hot summer Sunday afternoons, sitting on the porch in a swing between my paternal grandparents, having them tell me how smart I was, and when I grew up what they expected me to become, and of course, being a small boy, my head swelled with the wherewithal of being told just how great I was, never once realizing it was a ploy to get me to do what they wanted me to do. Mississippi during the forties and fifties was a place of social acceptance for some, and no acceptance for others. Somehow, somewhere, this changed and as I see it, for the better. I, in so many ways, was among the not-so-popular, but not until I grew older and left, did I realize this. I suppose hindsight is twenty-twenty, but really, what does it mean…absolutely nothing! One day you look back, you assess the past, and you realize, you are by far so much better off than some others, and those “others” were the very ones who gave you a hard time when you were young. So.I write this for all those who never got the opportunity to be “noticed” in school, which later went on to college, and institutions of higher learning and became someone.