Saturday, April 18, 2020

A Life in Four Colors Part Fifty-Seven

Early on, Susan and I had made a plan: I would take advantage of my academic scholarship at Berry College to get my degree, also working part-time while Susan worked full-time. Once I completed my degree, I would get a job and work full-time while Susan would go back to school.

Susan always said that going back to school seemed like an impossible dream. She was the first person in her family to graduate from high school, but she assumed that would mark the end of her education. It wasn't that her grades weren't adequate--they were. Susan was brilliant, in fact. But her family had pressured her to take a job as soon as possible to add to the family's meager income, and she acquiesced, going to work in the payroll department of the Arrow Shirt Factory. She worked there until my graduation from Berry in 1975, and her paycheck covered most of our living expenses for those four years. I worked twenty to thirty hours a week to supplement our income, but I earned less  per hour than she did. Nevertheless, we had a plan, and we were going to make it work.

The spring quarter of 1975 (Berry was on the quarter system then, not the semester system) presented us with a  major challenge. I had decided that I wanted to be a teacher, and part of that process required that I student teach for a quarter. Berry College did not allow its student teachers to work while actively student teaching, which meant that we were going to have to get by for twelve weeks with only Susan's income.

Susan and I were always planners, and that's what saved us. Beginning in September before I started student teaching in March, we cut our "fun budget" to almost nothing, squirreling away all the cash we might have spent on comics, books, and record albums. We limited ourselves to only one modest Christmas present for the other. We curtailed our usual trips to Cumberland Mall in Marietta. The frugal living paid off: by the time the spring quarter began, we actually had saved enough money to get us through on Susan's income until the fall, when I would start teaching.

Two things altered our plans--one good and one bad.

The good thing? It turned out that, since I had a teaching contract to start in mid-August, few employers were looking to hire me in mid-June (after I graduated from Berry) for an eight-week period. At the time, Georgia' unemployment law allowed me to receive a modest unemployment check every week for that eight-week period. I had no idea that was possible; it was my faculty advisor at Berry who had suggested I check into it. My unemployment was only $54 a week--but that was $54 a week we hadn't expected to have. We thought we were rich!

Thankfully, we didn't spend all that money. Our first big expenditure that summer was the lumber necessary for me to build a set of bookshelves for our living room. They were humble bookshelves, built meticulously to a plan that allotted so many shelves for standard sized hardcovers, so many for paperbacks, and so many for oversized books. The two units were four feet wide; one was eight feet tall, the other four feet tall. (That allowed us to decorate above the shorter unit.) I had plenty of time that summer since I wasn't working, so I devoted almost a week to assembling, sanding, staining, restaining, and sealing those shelves. I still have them in the basement; we both loved those shelves, and never dreamed of replacing them. Those shelves took almost $100 for high-quality white oak lumber plus the necessary stain, sealant, nails, screws, and other supplies.

Me sitting in our new chair with our bookshelves next to me
That was pretty much two weeks' unemployment, but we still had six weeks of other checks to supplement our budget. So we decided to splurge again and buy our first brand-new furniture in four years: a green and white clad swivel rocker and sofa set for our living room. The cost was $240, which was almost five weeks worth of unemployment checks. We debated long and hard on that, but we really wanted to replace the worn-out fold-out sleeper sofa in our living room, with its torn upholstery and lumpy mattress, and Susan said both the sofa and chair were just the right height. At only 5'2", she discovered that a lot of sofas and chairs had such deep seats that she either had to sit on the edge of the seat or her feet stuck out awkwardly if she leaned all the way back. We never got rid of the sofa and chair, either. In the 1990s, we had the worn upholstery refinished in a Southwestern fabric; Susan continued to use the chair until 2018, when she finally replaced it with a power recliner that brought her some relief from the disabling pain of a chronic illness; the chair was moved to the master bedroom, where it still sits today. The sofa? It's in the finished basement, where it has been since 2000.)

Our living room looked great (well, it looked great to us, at least)--and we were able to pay for everything without financing. We thought we were ahead of plan as far as our budget was concerned.

Susan sitting in the "just-the-right-size" swivel rocker

Remember that bad thing I mentioned?

Well, what I didn't know was that, while teachers started teaching in early August, first-year teachers didn't get their first paycheck until the last weekday in September. We had assumed that I would get some small check at the end of August, since I would have been working for three weeks by that time.

We assumed wrong.

As I said, we hadn't spent all the money: we had one unemployment check in the bank, along with the money we had saved over the fall and winter to get us through the spring and summer. It was a good thing we didn't fully restore our fun money budget: if we had, September 1975 would have been the first month in our married lives when we would have had to ask my parents to loan us money for living expenses--something we really didn't want to do, even though my parents would have undoubtedly helped us out with a loan.

I never forgot the dismay I felt when I learned that I would not get a check for seven and a half weeks after I started teaching. (Years later, when I became the guy who wrote the paychecks for Dr. No's Comics & Games, I said I would never make my employees face that sort of dismay. I have always paid my employees without a weekly hold-back, distributing paychecks on Monday that included all hours worked through the Sunday one day earlier. I still do that today; I don't want any co-worker at my store to struggle to cover the bills while waiting for a paycheck for work done a week earlier.)

We learned about the value of budgeting. We developed spaghetti and meat sauce recipes with double the spaghetti and a little less meat sauce. Our homemade soups were a little thinner. Our homemade chili had a lot more beans in it. We became regular shoppers at the Sunbeam Bread day-old outlet store in Cedartown. But we got through. And we were ready to begin phase two of our plan when Susan was accepted in Coosa Valley Tech's data processing program in September.

Tuesday, April 07, 2020

7305 Days

It's April 7th, 2020--the twentieth anniversary of the night that I died. I still remember every detail so vividly that it's hard for me to believe that it's been twenty years now. 11:35 PM--I was about to go to bed when I had an intense pain that began in my neck and jaw and rapidly expanded to encompass my chest and shoulder as well. I knew that whatever this was, it was more intense than anything I had ever felt before. On a hunch, I checked my blood pressure and discovered that it was extremely high at 170/110 (and I normally have low blood pressure), and my heart rate had skyrocketed to 150 bpm. I walked down the hall to the upstairs library, where Susan was watching television. "I think I'm having a heart attack." For a second, she thought I was joking--then she looked at my face and knew I wasn't. She told me later that she had never seen me more ashen than I was right then, and she was certain I was correct. I went downstairs to the kitchen, carrying the blood pressure cuff with me to see if things might improve. Susan called 911. We live less than a mile from a fire station, so EMTs responded in a matter of minutes. Their tests showed absolutely nothing wrong. "We think it's just bad indigestion," they said to me. I told them I was positive that it was not. They checked again. Still nothing wrong. Then, to make my point for me, my heart decided to quit beating. Susan told me later that the EMTs looked at me in surprise, then began to get the defibrillators. As they did, one of them looked at Susan and said, "He'll do anything to prove he's right, won't he?" She said in spite of the absolute terror she was feeling right then, she couldn't help but laugh. They were unable to start my heart after two tries in the house. They rolled me out to the ambulance and continued to work on me. Accoding to the paramedic, after six minutes had passed, he wasn't sure how many more times he should try, fearing brain damage from lack of oxygen. He tried once more. Nothing. Then, unwilling to give up, he tried yet again 6 minutes and 40 seconds after my heart had stopped. My heart started to beat. I remember waking up feeling relieved that the pain wasn't as severe, but I wasn't sure where I was. The EMT told me what had happened. He told me not to be afraid because we were almost at the hospital. I wasn't afraid. I was actually very calm. I had no vivid memories of bright lights or tunnels or anything like that, but from that point on I have never feared death--whatever happened that night left me certain that death wasn't the end of everything. When they got me to the cardiac intensive care unit, they did various things to stabilize me. Susan got there just a moment or two later, having followed the ambulance. She was overwhelmed with fear and anguish, not even sure if she would ever see me alive again. I smiled when she came in and held out my hand. She took it and wouldn't let go until they told her they had to take me away for a little while. I asked if there was a phone I could use before they did. I guess they thought I was going to call a family member and let them know what happened, so they got a phone for me. I called Brett. "Pick up quarters tomorrow morning for the store," I told him. "I had a heart attack and they won't let me do it." The days after that brought a series of tests, followed by the news that I had suffered a major heart attack with significant damage and major surgery was necessary. They told us that I had a 30% chance of survival until surgery, and they warned Susan that there was a significant chance I would not recover from the surgery. I was determined to prove them wrong. And when I did survive the surgery and they told me what I would need to do to get better, I promised Dr. Mike, my cardiologist, that I would be the most perfect cardiac patient he had ever treated if he would just keep me alive. (I also reminded him that I had never written down his comic book pull list at my store, where Dr. Mike had shopped every week for 18 years, and that if I died, no one would ever pull all the right books for him.) Dr. Mike did his part, and I did mine. Twenty years later, I'm not only alive, but he tells me that I am the only patient he has ever had who has exercised every day for twenty years; who lost 70 pounds in the eight months after the heart attack and kept it off; who did all the stress tests without ever complaining, even when the computer glitched one time and I had to repeat the whole test; and of course, who has kept his promise to pull all the right books for him every week. I keep a count of how many days I've been alive in what I call "my second life." 7305 days, and every one is a gift. I have tried to remember the koan of the strawberries and the tiger and have strived to find a good moment in every one of those days, even the ones that were overwhelmingly painful (my mother's death in 2002... my father's death in 2007... Susan's death last summer...).So many times, I have questioned if I am worthy of so precious a gift. 7305 days. And I am thankful for every one of them. Because without that gift, I couldn't have held mother's hand as she died. I wouldn't have gripped Dad's hand and wiped his brow as he slipped away. And I wouldn't have been there to whisper words of love and gratitude to Susan as I kissed her farewell when she left this world ahead of me on July 22nd. How can I not appreciate a gift so precious?

Sunday, April 05, 2020

Fifty Years Ago This Week in 1970 - 4/6/1970 to 4/12/1970

The Chieftains defeated Cartersville, Pebblebrook, and Cass in a four-way meet at Cartersville on Wednesday, April 8th. Cjuc k Kinnebrew set a distance record for the discus with a throw of 150 feet 3.5 inches. Xaciver Smith took first place in high jump and low hurdles, while George Albert took first place in 440-yard dash and triple jump.

West Rome senior Sam Hancock took second place in the State Science Fair for his physics project, while freshman Gail Smitley took second place for her life science project.

Ken Stanton Music finally got its hearing before etch Rome Board of Education--and no surprise, the Board ruled in their own favor and decided they had acted properly in choosing The Music Room to run the band recruitment program will blocking Ken Stanton from being involved... or even being allowed onto school property in support of the band program.

This week in 1970, Rome adopted a new slogan: "Rome—A City in Motion"—and the new slogan was created by West Rome''s own Mrs. W.T. Atkins of Marchmont Drive, the mother of Todd and Kathy Atkins. Her slogan was chosen from among 625 entries submitted to the Chamber of Commerce.

West Rome celebrated its second pizza shop opening of 1970 as Pizza Inn held its grand opening this week in 1970. In case you forgot, Pizza Inn was just past West Rome High School--so close, in fact, that it was theoretically possible for West Rome students to sneak off campus and grab a quick pizza for lunch... not that any of us--err, them--would ever do that, of course. During grand opening week, Pizza Inn offered a medium pizza for only 97¢ (that was $1 exactly when you added in the sales tax, which was still 3% back in 1970).

Once again, civic leaders unveiled a plan to consolidate the city and the county, including the two separate school systems. The usual reasons were given to explain the benefits of the plan--reduced duplication of services, less jurisdictional confusion, etc.--and once again, nothing would ever come of it.

Jimmy Carter came to Rome this week in 1970 in his campaign for governor. He began with a 6am meeting at the gates of General Electric, followed by a press conference at 9am at the Holiday Inn. Later that day, he toured Broad Street businesses to meet and talk with mangers and staff.

The cinematic week began with The Only Game in Town (starring Warren Beatty and Elizabeth Taylor) at the DeSoto Theatre, Bloody Mama (starring Shelley Winters) at the Fist Avenue, The Computer Wore Tennios Shoes (starring Kurt Russell) at the Village, and The Reivers (starring Steve McQueen) at the West Rome Drive-In. The weekend switch out brought Butch Cassidy & The Sundance Kid (starring Robert Redford and Paul Newman) to the DeSoto, The Oblong Box (starring Vincent Price and Christopher Lee) to the First Avenue, Jenny (starring Marlo Thomas and Alan Arkin) to the Village, and Support Your Local Sheriff (starring James Garner) to the West Rome Drive-In.

The Beatles held on to number one for another week with "Let It Be." Other top ten hits included "ABC" by the Jackson 5 (#2); "Spirit in the Sky" by Norman Greenbaum (#3); "Instant Karma (We All Shine On" by John Lennon (#4); "Love Grows (Where My Rosemary Goes)" say Edison Lighthouse (#5); "Bridge Over Troubled Water" by Simon & Garfunkel (#6); "Come and Get It" by Badfinger (#7); "Love Or Let Me Be Lonely" by the Friends of Distinction (#8); "American Woman" by the Guess Who (#9); and "Up the Ladder to the Roof" by the Supremes (#10).

Paul McCartney announced the breakup of the Beatles this week in 1970, confirming something that had already been rumored in Rolling Stone and Creem magazine.