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 Welcome: Child abuse is one of the most commonly overlooked crime. It is also the most commonly committed. Everyday more and more children are neglected, beaten, raped, touched, or mentally tortured. Right now, children are praying for someone to help them when they can't help themselves. It is now estimated that 1 in 3 girls and 1 in 5 boys are abused in some way before their 18th birthday. This doesn't even begin to imagine how many are beaten or belittled in the name of "love" by their parents or care givers. This is a national tragedy that has to stop! Child abuse is NOT a family issue. It is a CRIME! Child abuse survivors have many things to live through. Not only do we have to survive the initial abuse, but we also have to endure the lasting effects. These effects can range anywhere from just some bad feelings occasionally to complete insanity. Many survivors of all types of abuse have bad dreams, fears of objects or places or situations that other people don't have. We as child abuse survivors also have left over survivor techniques which will become more and more apparent as we grow older. The healing process is long and hard, but in the end, it is worth it. The hardest part is letting go of those survival techniques which helped us to stay alive and sane during our abusive childhoods. However, once we are older and safe, we have to learn to let those parts of our behavior go. Once we are adults, they no longer help us but rather keep us from forming close, trusting relationships with caring people. Another important part of the healing process is facing those things that we did to survive, even if we are ashamed of them. NEVER BLAME YOURSELF FOR WHAT YOU DID TO SURVIVE! You only did what you had to. You did not do anything wrong. YOU did not commit the crime, you were only trying to survive it the best that you knew how. Forgiveness of YOURSELF is a major part of the healing process, the one part that will let you enjoy life again. I am not one of those people who believes that in order to move on with your life that a person must forgive the person who abused them as a child. I happen to think that anger is healthy. For too many years, the survivor carries that anger inside, turned inward on ourselves for not stopping what we had no control over. We look back with adult eyes on what happened to us as a child and forget just how powerless and little we were then. I think that it's time to put the anger where it belongs. I think that it is healthy to be angry for what happened to you. If you can find it in your heart to forgive, that's wonderful. But if you can't, just don't be angry at yourself any more, put the anger where it really belongs. You've carried it long enough. Reading this means you have survived. We have survived. Topic: Dignity 1980's When I arrived at the campus, the boys were having an intramural BMX bike race. It was myself and Kelly Amick racing for the top spot and Kelly beat me out for it but some of the other boys were impressed how well I did because Kelly was a great bike rider. I came into the rotary cottage when Nathan Swindle and his wife were there. This was before the Rotary became the independent living cottage. My first friends were Rob Davis, Tommy Jeffcoat and John Anthony. We had some really good times then. I went to work for Leon Dudley on landscaping duty for a while before going over to work with chip on the farm. I learned a lot about myself that I never was permitted to learn as a boy with my family. I struggled most of my life with school peers and just people in general due to the sheltered and restrictive life my mother and father put on me. I grew up being abused with many types of abuse. The most common one was being beat with anything my father could get his hands on. I can remember being hit with fiberglass fishing poles, window sticks, thick special made paddles, the Mattel race track strips put together in threes, and last but not least, the sharp belts my father wore. My father and my mother were heavy smokers and my father used his medical discharge from the air force to his full benefit by refusing to work. I can remember having to go and cut grass to get the money for his and my mother’s habit. Then when I could not cut grass I was forced to beg for money or bum cigarettes for them. I was the middle of three children and supposedly the normal one. My older brother was mentally handicapped and my father’s name sake. My sister was the youngest and therefore special. I myself was a runt who wanted to play and be normal. I had what today is known as ADHD. My family used Ritalin on me and gave me the max dose they could because it slowed me down to the pace of my brother. This luckily for me was addressed by my uncle and he finally threatened to have me taken away from my parents. This you will find out later created some major strife in the family. As I grew up we moved from dump to dump either because my parents could not get along with neighbors or because the houses were becoming so inhabitable that we had no choice but to do so. I remember for a person who was born in the late sixties not having indoor plumbing in some of the houses we lived in. I also remember living at one time four or more miles from the nearest paved road. While having these experiences I did meet a few kind and generous people. While living in a house a few miles off the paved road. I went to school on a bus that would come within a half mile of our house and turn around in a spot. Then we would get on and go to school. I would go into school dirty because we didn’t have running water inside of the house. Finally one day a nice lady who was the librarian in the elementary school suggested we have a little secret. She walked me over to the teachers’ rest room and showed me the sink with warm water and a bar of soap. She told me that everyday when I got off the bus I was to come in here and I could wash up and no one would say a thing to me or pick on me about why I was dirty. This helped a young little boy to have some dignity. I know you are saying, “why you were so dirty?” Well the house we lived in had no indoor plumbing and we had a hand pump that had to be primed to draw the water. The process was too much for my parents to do for all three of their children. When we did get baths it was in a 25 gallon wash tub. The water was heated up on the wood stove and poured into the tub. It took a lot of pumping to get the water and a lot of pots to heat up for us to all take baths. We used to have an old Ford Falcon that had the floorboards rusted out to travel in, and my worst fear as a child was, “Would me and my brother or my sister fall through the floor and be killed?” We would get hand-me-downs from any and everybody. Usually if they were good my brother would get them, then me. We would also get hand-me-down shoes. (To this day I think that is why my feet are so small in size to my body. I think they also affected me being bowlegged.) I can remember that in the same house we had a tin roof that leaked when it rained. My parents put up plastic in the rafters because we didn’t have a ceiling. This is where my mischief as a child really started, because I was expected to be the work horse of the children because I was the healthy one. So when it rained I would sometimes put pin holes in the plastic and let my brother or sister get wet. I really paid for when they found out. I had several duties as the healthy one. It was my responsibility to take out the chamber pots each morning and empty them into the outhouse. (Just imagine the smell, especially during the summer.) I was the one who had to be responsible for my brother and sister. We were never fed properly because of the limited money for the family. In the mid 1970s my father was getting $291.00 a month to support us and the expensive habit he and my mother had. (smoking as many as two packs a day each.) we would get food stamps and government cheese. I became the greatest grilled-cheese maker in the world. But when it ran out it was whatever we could scrape up. Finally when I was in the fourth grade we moved into Wilmington, NC. We moved into Section-8 or HUD housing. Here I was a white boy in an all black neighborhood. I had never really been around black people before so at first I was scared. I had lived in some areas that didn’t have children anywhere near us to play with. I eventually learned to make friends. The great thing was we had indoor plumbing and in the summer we had free lunch programs in the housing center. As I grew in this neighborhood I grew up faster then I would have in many respects. One Christmas we were told we were not going to have a tree. This made me angry because even if we didn’t get much for Christmas at least we had a tree. We lived at 606 Emory Street in Wilmington. I walked out of the neighborhood and down the tracks with a bow saw I found (for lack of another word) and found a pine tree that looked somewhat like a Christmas tree. I began to cut down this tree. It was so heavy that I had to drag it back to the house. By the time I got it home we had to put it up in the corner with the side I drug in the corner. This made me feel like a man because I wasn’t going to let the fact that my parents would rather have their smokes than get their children a tree keep us from having that tree. I was learning about what city life was like also. We had a neighbor who had a lawn mower because he rebuilt them. I asked him if I could use it to mow our patch of lawn and he said yes. I had my brother with me so we took the gas can to the Zip Mart gas station on the corner. I asked my brother to stay with the can and I would pay for the gas. He did and I started for the store when right in front of me a man with a mask and a sawed-off shotgun ran out of the store. I thought I was dead because he looked right at me and pointed the gun at me but never fired, thank God. I really never knew much about sports till then either. I learned about the Carolina Tar Heels and have been a fan ever since. After a while my father finally made a move that would put us into the ownership of our first house. It was a Section-8 or HUD single house in another section of these projects. We got the house at 2703 Bunch Street. This was a vast improvement of the other single houses we lived in. I remember this was where I would find out how to fend for myself. I would be in regular fights and squabbles with others and I became even more interested in sports. The only problem was my parents were controlling so much so that they refused to let me out of the house most of the time. This became one of the main reasons they punished me so much. When I got a chance to get out I was much like a penned-up dog that when I got out it was hard to get me back in. the only time they let me out was to get more smokes and then I would be gone for hours. This made them very angry but I had learned to use their habits for my own benefits. This made them even angrier. I was learning more about girls. I had a huge crush on a girl in the 9th grade when I was in the 7th grade. She never knew because she was way out of my league because she was wealthy, beautiful, smart and a cheer leader. Then we moved again to another house in Castle Hayne a few miles outside of Wilmington. Here I went to a school that the great Michael Jordan went to, Track Junior High. I was all right with basket ball because of where I lived in Wilmington but these guys were more organized and properly coached, so I was too far behind to get involved which was ok by me because mom and dad were not going to let me play anyway. Here I met a few kids my own age and they were nice to me for a while till they found out how really poor I was. I was a shy kid because most of these kids got new clothes for school new bikes for Christmas and things that make you wish you had. All through this time from the houses in the woods to where we were now, I was abused. It was not uncommon for me to get beaten just because I was going to do something wrong that day. However I was also getting older and stronger. The last time my dad kicked me I turned to him and said, “You will never touch me again.” His reply was, “If you don’t like it get out.” I said, “Ok,” and left. This had been building up for years, but I could never muster up enough courage to do it because of the unknown. So now what? Well I had to find a place to live ‘til I could sort things out. I didn’t know where to go. I lived under a train trestle for a few days then asked a guy that I met in church if I could live with him for a while. I offered to help with his work. He was pretty much unemployed and scraping by himself. He said ok and we worked together getting wood for sale. We worked pup-wooded areas and gathered wood to sell in cords. It was hard work and I knew my future wasn’t going to amount to much if I didn’t get back to school. I decided to call my uncle that had helped me out when my parents were overdosing me with Ritalin. He said he would come and get me and we would get things straightened out. So I spent a few weeks with him. I talked to the pastor at the church my parents went to and asked for assistance from him also. My parents began to threaten me and my uncle. they came down to my uncle’s house and tried to make me go back but I refused to go. The pastor worked to get things resolved by getting my parents to agree to seek counseling with me. We went but everything in the meetings was my fault. I was always the bad person. I was some kind of demon child. The counselor finally said to my parents, “Enough about how bad he is. What do you do?” And they had blank stares on their faces. I knew this was going nowhere and they were going to try and make me go back. You see if I left they could no longer say I was a dependent and that would cut my fathers pay and food stamps so they were not going to let that happen. Finally I remembered that one of my cousins had gone to the Boys Home of NC at Lake Waccamaw. So I requested to be admitted there. My parents were deadset against this, but the counselor, my uncle, and the pastor insisted on it for a year. So I became a Boy’s Home Boy in 1983-1984. Then my parents came and took me out. While at home for a while things were better, but then they went back to the same old thing. This time I was old enough to quit school and do whatever because I was 16, so I called up the home and talked to Mister Morrison and signed myself back into the home from 1985 till 1986. Keep in mind that through all of this stuff I was just squeaking by in school, and the first time in the boys home I had to go to summer school. Finally after all of that I graduated and became a Marine Corps reserve. I was the first of my family to graduate. I can’t begin to describe how much the Boys Home has done for me. I hold my head high when I tell people about my story, because of the incredible love for wayward boys the staff at the home has. I tell my son about how my life was and how God has provided us with choices in life. He shows us roads in life. Some are more traveled than others. I was on a hard road for much of my life but eventually I got to the good road and now I have two beautiful children and a loving wife. Topic: Reunion 2004 I gotta tell you folks....I am normally a very emotionally challenged person. I am seldom sympathetic of situations people find themselves as a result of their own actions. I am far more apathetic than a normal person should be. Sort of an "It's not my problem", and "I got enough to deal with in my own life" kinda attitude. Very selfish no doubt. Though I still believe that though we can't control what life brings...we can undoubtedly control how we react to it. I believe that each individual bears responsibility for his or her actions...and ..regrettably inactions. This having been said, I had a bit of an epiphany this past weekend. I should have attended the reunion far sooner. I have never shared much of my background with you guys. Not because It bothers me to talk about it..or that I am ashamed of it, rather because I have always believed that what happens to an individual during his life is neither an excuse nor reason for who they are as a person, on the contrary, it is how they have responded to the situations that makes a person who they are. After visiting the campus for the first time in 15-20 years and seeing the changes, It dawned on me like a plane crashing on my head, that this WAS my childhood home. I was there from the time I turned 11 years old until I graduated. All of my formidable years. At the age of three my six siblings and myself were abandoned by our parents. At first we all went to an orphanage together, but soon we were dished out to Appalachian foster families...it is and was a very poor area and most of us went to live with people who were more interested in the money they got for keeping us than our welfare. My brothers and sister were all adopted by foster families after a few years, most by long term foster parents. By the time I was 7 years old I had lived in 35 different foster homes. I was removed from some because the foster parents did not want me ...some because of abuse...One Lady found out she had cancer...One kid told his parents that he wanted me gone or he would run away...lots of reasons...I am sure I was no walk in the park. I landed back in the Orphanage and stayed there for almost 2 years...longest I had been anywhere since I was 3. I was about to turn 8 years old when a family wanted to adopt me and the social worker sent me for a month long "visit". The "visit" turned into "you will stay there whether you like it or not." Turns out they had 2 sisters that they had adopted several years earlier and the parents realized that they had bitten off more than they cared to chew. I admire them for trying though. I was not used to the tightly controlled family life, The old man and I hated each other...and like any eight year old boy was very mischievous... I managed to make it for 3 years before they threatened to send me away. Someone they knew was involved with the BH so I landed there. I spent the next 6 years living, learning, fighting, and growing with "my family". When I was there many of the boys were there for a year or two at most...I became one of the long timers. There were probably 15 or 20 of us in the constantly rotating average of about 96 boys. I got to know the people in the community..grew up with the staff members kids...Made My first "best friend" there. Kissed my first girlfriend there. Drove my first car there. Had my first real job there. Drank my first beer there. Played my first organized sport there. Took my fist ass-whooping there. Lived through the eye of a hurricane, saw the devastation of a tornado. Went to my first funeral when our beloved cook was killed in a car accident..again when Jimmy Trivette was killed. Washed my first pots and pans there. Learned to vacuum, dust, cook, wash laundry,swim,play ping pong, mow grass, drive a tractor, castrate a bull, bail hay, swing blade, shovel horse sh&t,repair a fence,weld,service a car,program a computer,catch crappie in the canal and bass in the lake, iron clothes, paint houses, slop pigs, buff floors. I have always thought of myself as a hard-assed realist who tries to do the right thing and tries to help those who try to help themselves. But I have been negligent to those who should mean the most to me...My brothers. It is true that you can't go home again...but you can indeed go back to those who made it your home. The boys..the staff...the people with whom we shared our joy,pain,tears,smiles,hopes,dreams,and nightmares. Mike asked me sometime ago to be the 1980's rep...but I always blew him off...too much trouble....didn't have time. He asked me to try to help find other boys...even sent me a free calling card....I was far too busy so I sent the card back unused. I sent him my yearbooks to scan some pictures...I had participated enough....done my part. The reunion was good...BUT I am embarrassed for myself for not coming previously. I promise any of you who have not come to one that if you do you will never miss another one.(And I didn't even stay for the lakehouse party). I will make sure of that. It was a bit awkward for me ..(none of my generation boys showed up)... kind of like I had invaded a group of old friends ...I did meet the "Legends" and they did invite me back to the lakehouse...I should have gone.....But they were friendly and welcoming. My mind was numb from the realization that I hadn't been "HOME" since I left. I will do my best to embarrass, piss off, intimidate, harass, trick, cajole, or otherwise strong-arm any of our brothers I can find to show up next year. Trust me guys.....we have to grow this thing. Mike I will gladly be the 80's rep...please send me a fresh "hunt list". From a part of my heart I haven't visited in a while, Topic: A Day in the life of a Boys Home Boy 1960s KITCHEN DUTY. The cottages each had 16 boys and 1 housemother. Each week, the boys would rotate the duties so that 4 at a time would do each set of duties. The 4 assigned (KP) or Kitchen Duty would (I THINK) be responsible for each meal, which included 7 breakfasts, 2 weekend lunches and 7 dinners. I believe 1 boy would do the dishes, 1 would do pots & pans, 1 would clear table and sweep/mop kitchen floor and 1 would get up 30 minutes earlier than the rest and help prepare breakfast. I think all would get up at 6:30, so I guess the early guy was at 6 am. The boy helping prepare breakfast would spread bread on 2 or more cookie sheets and cook butter in a pan. He would then spread the melted butter over the bread with a special brush. Then stick cookie sheets in oven. Wake up. I am thinking 6:30. Housemother would walk down the hall, ringing that bell. Or sometimes beating on a pan. I believe we ate at 7 am. Did cottage chores at 7:30 and the bus at 8:00. I believe. Morning jobs. 2 guys carried slop to the hogs. Can't remember how they fit in on the rotation, though. A boy swept & mopped the living room. Another boy did the same with the dining room, and another did the same with the "hobby room". Another did the same with the hallway and "mud room". I am thinking there was also a laundry room, but also think that may have been a central place on campus, somewhere. One of the boys in each room took a week sweeping & mopping the bedroom. Another did the bathroom. As you can see, I don't remember exactly how those jobs got divided among the 16 boys. A Columbus County schoolbus stayed on campus, and one of the boys would drive. When there were more boys there, we had a second school bus, I believe. The ride would be very slow, and we would often yell at the girls, waiting for their bus. Does anyone remember the safety ritual practiced by the bus driver? During my time there, there was actually a train track next to highway that would have several trains per day running. The driver was required to stop short of the track, a boy would jump off the bus and run across the track, then wave the bus across. He would then get back on. The school was old THEN, and is still operating now.. I remember sitting in class, watching the plaster fall from the ceiling, onto the teacher's desk. Popular classes at that time was home ec for the girls and vocational agriculture for the boys. A popular contest each year was the "greased pig" tackling event. It also involved mud. WORK & EXERCISE. Mr. McCray, Mr. Harrell, Mr. Burgess, Mr. Adcox and Mr. Dew would meet the bus next to the Big House and give us our work assignments for the afternoon. Some of us would somehow get a disproportionate share of unpleasant work assignments. (I believe someone is still whining, here). I often found myself clearing land in the swamps or working in the garden with Mr. Adcox and his ever-present paddle. Some of the boys got the easy work.... in the cottages. After a quick snack and dropping one's books in their rooms, we worked from about 3:30 pm until 5pm. At 5, we went to the athletic field for 1 hour exercise. The cottages were very clean. As well as the fields and lawns on campus. The Hallsboro sports teams were monopolized by Boys' Home boys who were in better physical shape than the other kids, due to our exercise and work routines. Hallsboro teams usually whipped up on other schools that had considerably more students. FREE TIME. We ate dinner at 6, and had free time until STUDY HALL at 7. Free time was for the boys who did not have kitchen duties after dinner. We sat at our desks at foot of our beds for study hall, unless we chose to sit at dining room table or a living room chair. Mr. McCray, Harrell, Dew, Adcox, etc., would wander through the cottages, making sure we were making good use of our study time. I believe study hall went until 9:30. Then there was 30 minutes free time before lights out at 10. Mr. McCray would often make rounds well after lights out. No one would hear him coming; he would just randomly pick a room and turn on the light, often catching boys either not in their beds, or up to something. One night a light went on, and he was laughing and saying "put that thing away and go to sleep". Anyway. I am a little fuzzy on some details, but I'll bet you are, too, so .... that is my story, and I am sticking to it. Topic: 1960s My memories are somewhat similar to David's however he is much older than me. I guess one of the things I remember most was getting off the bus in the afternoon and if you had screwed up during the day you got your ass busted right there in front of god and everybody. Then it was off to pick up those damn pecans. As I remember it we had study hall at night in the gym and that was always hell for those of us with poor study habits, then 30 minutes of free time to slip off to smoke or get across the street to the station to call home or your girlfriend. I remember McCray walking around at night with his fops on sucking his teeth and farting, it was hard for him to slip up on us with those habits but it did happen. I learned early on to iron so I spent a lot of morning in the closet ironing trying to make smoke money working for the upper classmen. I still do all of our family ironing and a lot of the cooking so I guess I learned something useful while there. There was a time that Frank Simmons, Gary Faircloth, Ben Lee, and I were roommates a lot of fun was had then. Does anybody remember our transistor radios and we all listened to Cousin Brucey out of NY City at night, until you got caught and your radio was confiscated ? I used to slop the hogs after dinner I would gather all the slop and either drive the tractor, or the old blue Chevy pick up, to me then that was a big deal I was getting to drive. Well enough reminiscing for now I better get in bed B4 lights out. I will tell more Fergy tales later on Topic: Choirs I took out my old calendars where I posted singing events with the choir for 13 of my 24 years at Boys and Girls Homes. During that time the choir did over 600 performances throughout the state. Those guys did not know it at the time but they truly made it possible for hundreds of children to receive quality care since they left the program. Those choir boys, through the years, have put Lake Waccamaw on the map. I will always appreciate their hard work and dedication and will never forget those great experiences on the bus and outstanding performances from youngsters who were learning to believe in themselves and also learning to trust and connect with adults who believed in them. My memory is fading but nothing thrills me any more than for one of the old choir boys to call and tell me stories from those days. I would love to see everyone at the reunion this year. Topic: Alumni Memories It was so nice to see the note from Carolyn Craft to Mike - & the group. And someone made the comparison between Mrs. Gore & Carolyn. A very good comparison. I was privileged to know Mrs. Gore, although not nearly for long enough. We always enjoyed having her come on as our "relief" housemother. And most of us guys were in love with her daughter, Diane, who lived in Wilmington. (Does anyone know about Diane, presently)? Mrs. Gore was always so soft-spoken and a real southern belle. A genuine delight to be around. I have known Carolyn Craft for much longer. We boys would volunteer to help her stuff (Bucks-A-Month Club) envelopes in the office, just to be with her. Yeah, I am sure any one of us would have fancied ourselves as "her guy". She was Carolyn Canady at the time. After Mr. & Mrs. McCray died, the torch was passed to Carolyn to be the unofficial alumni contact. I would pass through Lake Waccamaw en route to Myrtle Beach with my family. We would always enjoy stopping to have a visit with her. She would get me caught up on the latest. And I would also visit briefly with her husband, Les Craft (the director at that time) and several other women with whom we had stuffed those envelopes so many years ago. It was always a pleasant time, whenever we visited with them. Later, she and Les had moved on to a lovely home somewhere at one of the Wimington area beaches, and we had a visit with them, then. The last time I saw them was at one of the recent alumni reunions. Yes, she was as lovely and nice as ever. And we all appreciated having her and her husband, Les, with us. Has he always been lovely, too? Forget it, Les. However, we all like Les a lot...... Topic: Reunion 2003 GUYS - We had a nice group of alumni at our reunion. We were disappointed that a lot of folks didn't come - that we had really hoped would be with us. We had also hoped to have a guitar player or two at the barbeque in the evening. However, Mike Dixon played CD's for us on his stereo system. And we ran out of barbeque. It was apparent that our alumni can still eat like they did several years ago, when they were BHB's. (Did I say "years"? I meant to say several "decades" ago). The children of alumni seemed to have a good time, as well. Some rode horses, while others just ran around, playing tag. A bunch of alumni hung around visiting with each other - well into the evening. It would have been much later, except many of these guys are getting "long of tooth", and seem to have early bedtimes. Earlier, we had a moment of silence for 4 people. First was alumnus Larry Holbrook. Second was the wife (Lynda) of alumnus George Webb. Third was Jeff Spivey, the financial staff member who was killed in the car wreck just over a week ago. And finally, there was Bonnie Wise Brown, another (recently retired) staffer in a sudden tragic car accident, a few months back. Guys, as for the serious business, I think we are beginning a new era. Bill Thompson is practically one of us. He has had a huge role in our alumni reunions. He has designated Larry Hewett to be our contact guy. Larry is expecting further input from all of us. At the meeting, we talked about some of the ideas folks presented: (1) Getting current residents indoctrinated and thinking toward being alumni members. Work on getting their input this year. (2) Re-visiting our original intention of having "regional" groups getting together. Various alumni commented about how they were surprised to discover there were other alumni living fairly close by, and committed to contacting them over the next year. (3) Asked that all alunni commit to contributing to BGH over the year, based on their ability. The $10 per month that was suggested by Mike Lamascus was a suggested target. (4) It was requested that ideas for next year's reunion be submitted to Larry Hewett. The idea is to make it fun for families to come with their children. If the money could somehow be found for it, it was suggested that inflatable "moon bouncing" equipment be rented. That would be over $1,000 for the day, though. (5) Larry Hewitt and Bill Thompson plan to convene some alumni representatives after people's ideas have been received. This group will then come up with some new ideas for success. In addition to the ideas to be submitted to Larry Hewett, please use the list that Mike Lamascus sent to everyone and try to locate some old friends. Look up some alumni who live near you. Give them a call. Try to work out a visit with each other. It will be fun! We did not elect officers at this meeting. After the feedback from the alumni, it will be determined the best course of action for the type of leadership everyone wants. So, let's hear from you! Let your old friends hear from you. Talk to your BHB neighbors. Let's get our alumni association fired up and running strong! Topic: Different perspectives 1970's All, we do all have different perspectives from our experiences at Boys Home. This response to Mike from Ken just proves the fact that no matter what we all walked away with and no matter where we have gone since we left, Boys Homes of NC made lasting impressions both professionally and socially. All of us had experienced a life in a way that few (in the big scheme of things) can replicate. This letter clearly identifies the bond that we have all have planted in our being from our lives as Boys Homes Boys. Daily, I try to read all of the correspondence that flows between us and although I never lived one day at the Lake, I still feel, inside, that I belong with the "Lake Boys", as we use to call it. There are only a few guys from the Huntersville Campus that have responded to this our group, but it really does not matter because we all really are Boys Homes Boys and we are in this together. It is important that we be allowed to express out feeling. Some are more tactful than other, but nevertheless, they are feelings. However, the beauty in this all is that we are able to respond and apologize when we feel it is appropriate. Ken, this is a nice response. Some of you know that I am a Explosive Ordnance Disposal (EOD) Technician by trade. As we have progressed in this war, the EOD world has lost several fine soldiers trying to defend the very right and freedom to have a web site like this. Although I am now in the business of ensuring the C-17 airplanes meet the Army's airborne needs and most likely will not be called for EOD duty, I am forever bonded with every EOD tech (past, present and future) due to my training and experience of defusing bombs. Being a Boys Home Boys is a lot like that. Our bonds can never be broken and our perspectives are lasting. Make no mistake about it, we were not lucky enough to be born by wealthy parents or even loving parents in a lot of cases, but we are special and we still together through all endeavors (good and bad). I often shake when I think how life might have been without Boys Homes of NC. I thank GOD everyday that I was able to have the opportunity to meet people from all walks of life and be able to call them my Boys Home Brothers. HOOAH! Topic: 1960's I went to the Boy's Home because My parents were divorced and I was back and fourth between homes. My Dad Knew the Pharmacist In Washington NC Which was on the Board of Directors for the Civitan club there, Dr. Welch and he helped my Dad get a place in the Boy's Home for me. Infact they Moved Waldo Ward upstairs in the House that Rube Mc Cray lived in so I could get into the Civitan Cottage. My Father Agreed to Pay or Donate Monthly fees to the home. Best experience at Boy's Home learning how to live with others and team work with each other under Rube Mc Cray. Rube Mc Cray got me into football at an early age. He taught me many things in life that I still apply today, Most of all he did make a man of me to face life and deal with the problems that face me. honesty with myself and others is what he taught me in dealing with any problem. Worst experience, Might be what at the time I thought was a bad experience (Rube Mc Cray's Oak Paddle) that he used at report card time or when we got into trouble with Mrs.. Spivey the house mother. However turned to be good lessons learned. After Boy's Home I worked in Greenville NC for awhile the went into the Navy. After that I went back to school and then to Western State Law School for awhile but I passed the California Real Estate Brokers test and started my own Real Estate company I was in Real Estate for eighteen years In 1987 I started at Western Digital and now Corporate Services Manager with different departments under me, One which is Security My main job function is investigations of Stolen product (Disk Drives) The Corporate Office is located now in Lake Forest Ca. I have lived in Irvine for the twenty five years My wife and I moved from Los Angelas. I have two sons Sean 27 years old and kenneth 26 years old in December. I work many hours but when I can I enjoy playing golf when I can. My sons also enjoy playing golf.They both played High school football. Thank you Mike for all that you have done and I too love reading the E-Mails from all the guys I hope to vist Lake Waccamaw again soon. I am not Far Away from you mike so maybe I will get to see you. Topic: Memories I don't think it can be said any better. I took my share of whoopins and can say I did deserve most of them and honestly feel that if kids today received some of this there wouldn't be so much of kids taking guns to school and other violence we are seeing today. Kids today are allowed to run rampant and have no respect for anyone or anything. I will say that we were taught respect and manners, and I still use both to this day. I appreciate the things I was taught and will say that I never considered what I got to be abuse. On another note it's great to hear the names Randy Harrell and Bill Hughes. We must be the only two in the group that remembers these guys. Harrell was one of the best men I ever knew, I can't say that much for Hughes but I remember being with some of my older brothers one night in Hughs's Mustang with Bryant Powell driving and we raced a bunch of guys in a GTO from ECU down Hwy 70 . Those were some of the good times. I remember James Lamb and I sat behind Mayor Edmonds one Sinday morning @ The Presbyterian Church and we caught a lizard disected it and I dropped it over the back of the pew into his hat. When church was over and he put the hat on it was on. I did get my ass busted for that, I think Lamb blamed it on me. I have often wondered what has happened to some of the locals ie; Barry Andrews, Kevin Hatcher, his sister Jennifer, Larry Barefoot, Mel & Roy Herring, Larry & Mary Ann Brewer etc. I saw Larry Worrell at a reunion I was at a long time ago and we partied together at the old Reigel Club House. The last time I was at the Lake I saw that our floating dock we built and launched back in the 60's as well as Weavers pier was gone. It's kind of sad to see that. I have a lot of memories of that place. It's not everyday you go into a place to take a leak pee in a trough and it runs out the back. I remember the older gang like Monk dancing in Weavers I at the time wished I could grow up to be like him. Well that's my walk down memory lane, it's good to see all of the mixed dialogue keep it going. Topic: Father's Day I chose to celebrate this day as a reminder to me of the great influence and power I have as a FATHER to my two beautiful well adjusted young sons....There is not a day that goes by that I do not celebrate being their father!!!...I have the power to do all of the things right that were not done for me!!....I have the infleunece to teach them strength and love at the same time.....I have the privillege of being there Hero...if only until they are teenagers and know everything....My wife is annoyd that I allow them to share our bed anytime they want to.....but everytime I am kicked in the head at 2 am or wake in the middle of the night freezing my ass off because one of them has calaimed the covers as his own...I smile...because I know that 40 years from now when the decision is being made as to what rest home they are gonna shove me into at least one of them will remember these days and pick one that has sexy old ladies...so celebrate this day not for your "Father" rather for the fathers like me who considers himself blessed that his memories of his childhood stiffen his resolve to be the worlds greatest dad!! Topic: Boys Home 1970s I was a troubled youth growing up in a home of seven children with an abusive, alcoholic father. Second in line, and the oldest male, I seemed to catch the brunt of my father's abuse. At age 15, I was constantly in trouble at home, in school and with the law. My troubles eventually landed at the Lake Waccamaw Boys Home in an attempt to spare me from less desirable alternatives. Being a naive youngster, I didn't really understand what was happening. In retrospect, what I needed was compassion, counseling and someone to explain things to me, which I never received. Being removed from my family and placed in a strange and uncertain environment was a traumatic experience for me. The problem with large families is that no single child ever gets all the love, counseling or attention they need. Its even worse in a cottage with 16-17 boys, at a campus with multiple cottages. I felt less love and more alone than at any time in my life. Boys Home was just a place with a rigid set of rules designed to keep everyone in line and out of trouble. For all it's good intentions, Boys Home never offered supportive counseling of any kind, only rules and discipline. I did make some friends, and my residency at the Home did produce a few memorable experiences. There are experiences from my stay at Boys Home I hold dear and will never forget. After 10 months at Boys Home, which seemed like an eternity, my behavioral problems continued. One morning, Charles Battley and I were suspended (unfairly) from school and sentenced to campus labor at Boys Home. The next day, I had an altercation with a BH employee. That effectively signed my ticket home, where my probation officer was waiting. However, although the home situation hadn't really improved, a compassionate judge allowed me to remain at home as long as I could stay out of trouble. I did. I was starting to get the picture. I eventually entered a 18 year career in broadcasting which included on-air talent, copy writing, commercial production and management. In '94, I broke the chains of corporate slavery and began a new career in the entertainment industry as a professional stage/comedy hypnotist, performing at colleges, corporate events and comedy clubs around the country. My education and practice in the field hypnosis have given me great insight into human nature, including my own. I continue that profession today along with other business and entrepreneurial interests. I have never married and have no plans to do so. But, hey, things change, and that may too. I have always been healthy and consider myself a well balanced and productive member of society. Who would have guessed? INSANITY AND THE KIDS WHAT CAUSE IT Unusual insights into life by Herb Pickard CHAPTER 1 Considering that I have often heard it said that our children are God’s way of exacting revenge for our own youthful transgressions, what could I have possibly been thinking when I chose to start a family? Don’t get me wrong, I love my seven and eleven year-old boys more than life itself, however, as I see their lives unfold I find myself recollecting far too many of my own “transgressions”. In order to visualize my particular situation you need to know a few things about me. I was, unlike most other children, “chosen” by my parents. These two remarkable people not only chose me, but chose two other children as well. Well, not all at once. Apparently, after adopting the two sisters, who would later become my tormentors and comrades in mischief, they still found themselves with too much sleep, time, and money. Their momentary lapse in judgment led to my own adoption. I clearly recall my ride to my new home in the back of a brown Squire station wagon; you know the kind with the fake wood side panels. It was here, in the far back fold-up seat that I first learned that the word “bitch” meant something other than a female dog. This was the first of my many rather unexpected educational sessions. These are the things that I know to be true. I learned that just because on your birthday you were given the “coolest” toolbox ever, it is not appropriate to saw and hammer everything you see. I learned that it is extremely important to put the fork on the left side of the plate when setting a table (though to this day it doesn’t make sense to me as I use my right hand to eat with the darn thing). I learned that piano lessons are far more important for the parents than for the kid. (I did learn to read music). I learned that doing things right the first time gives you more time to go fishing. I learned that a dog is truly a boy’s best friend. I learned that most moms worry too much and most dads worry too little. I learned that “old” people are smarter than me, and that not all “young” people are without wisdom. I learned that if you raise a ruckus when your dad takes you fishing, it is unlikely that he will ever do so again. I learned that speaking softly only works when no one else is speaking. Most importantly, I learned what it was to be cared for and loved. That having been revealed, I am obliged to provide some insight on the two unique yet sadistic people who “chose” me. On the outside they appear to be quite normal, sane even. Both upstanding members of the community and of course both highly regarded members of the First Baptist Church. Heck, they have both even been deacons at one time or another. The most remarkable thing about her is that she had been involved in education from the time she was 7 years old, either as a student or as a teacher. Imagine that!!! I spent most of my twelve years of mandatory school swearing that if I ever became president I would do away with the whole stinkin’ education system. This not so obviously maladjusted woman not only completed her mandatory twelve years with glee, she spent another eight to ten years in college doing it some more. If that is not enough evidence of her extra-terrestrial origin, consider that she then chose to teach the same type of snotty-nosed brats she must have had as classmates at one time or another. As a point of fact, she has always been the epitome of a “Southern” lady. Her manners and etiquette have always been impeccable. (I refer back to that fork on the left side thing). Morally she is the truly dedicated to her convictions. She stands strongly on her beliefs. Anyone who has been lucky enough to know her will testify to that. Never in the twenty plus years that I have known her, have I ever found her to be hypocritical. Sadly, I cannot say the same for myself, nor most of the people I have come to know. hope, misery, wealth, health, pain, joy, love, hate, loneliness, fear, dedication, strength, hidden emotions, shared feelings, wonderful brotherhood, liveliness, shame, deep wondering, Sunday worship, Monday running away, sore asses, broken promises, taken advantage of, offensive rivalry, token youth, praised gains, hurt hearts, loving friends, crying times, loving brothers, hating others, smothering feelings, shameful dealings, hidden secrets, open wounds, broken hearts, new highs, the lowest of lows, the dreams we all shared, the daily grind, the paddled asses, the loving hugs, the kindred wealth of children, the growth of men, the loss of loved ones, the gain of hope where none existed before, the three meals a day, the steadfast bedtime, the awakening with friends, the frightfulness of counselors, the love of brotherhood, cleanliness, excitement of achievement, disappointment of failure, love of bonding brothers, escape to a quiet place, enjoyment of group activities, the smell of the earth as we worked it, the feel of the Horses under our young unknowing selves, the crack of the whip, the sting of the paddle, The Loneliness Night After Night, The Dreams of a Better Life, The Men and Women who really did care and showed it daily, The fear of the men and women who did not and made our lives miserable daily, The places where we could hide, the places where we wanted to be seen, the look on a new kids face, the disappointment when a great friend left us, the pain when a horse we loved was sold without question of our feelings, the blisters of the sling blade, the happiness of Christmas from loving supporters, The smell of a bag of pecans, The stench of a day long shoveling horse manure, the smell of a wonderful horse your loved, the tears, oh the tears, the smiles, oh the smiles. The wondering of the next days pain, the excitement of the next days gain. The mountains of dishes to be washed, The dread of who gets what chores, The happiness of getting great chores, The hatefulness, the misery, the hurt, the pain, the heartache, feeling of loneliness, the happiness of visits from family, the pain of no family visits, the whispers in the night, the quiet times at the foot of our bunks studying, the pleasure of going to public schools, the girls at public Schools, The Hierarchy of the cottages, The lack of acceptance, The approval of the Guys who knew the ropes, the disappointment of missing out on the trips, the joy of the trips, the lack of respect for authority, the consequences of same, the wonderful swims in the lake, the positive reinforcement of our peers, the counselors who really, I mean Really cared and took time to talk with you, the feeling of accomplishment to get to a higher cottage, the assholes once you got there, the friends you made there, The feeling of being a child without a home, hopelessness, Simply Damned Scared Little Kid, Wanting to run away from it all, Actually running away from it all for weeks on the road sleeping in corn fields, Cold nights with no where to go, sneaking in to churches because it was a warm place to sleep when you ran away, Getting your ass Paddled so much when you got caught doing anything not allowed, Pain, Pain, and More Pain, being just a little kid who wanted Out of the system, the Sunday morning group walks to church in a suit and tie, Every Sunday, The little store across the street for candy, A little change in your pocket if you were good that week, Genuine Adults who really cared and we loved, Paycheck adults who were on a superiority complex and we hated, Thumbing to the town of Whitesville on a Saturday night, Thumbing to the state of Texas to run away from the pain, Nights in jail without giving your identity because Jail felt better than where you had ran away from, Ass so sore your could not sit for days, Running laps until your legs were so numb you could only feel the tears fall from your eyes, Visits from your Mother, Why am I here, Where do I go from here, I am in school everyday with buddies and girls who have real families, I can't sleep because I'm scared I might get a Blanket party for some stupid reason, staying awake to be a part of a blanket party to some unfortunate little boy who is only trying to make his way through each day and pissed off a leader, Who are the leaders, when do I get hair on my balls so that I feel like a man when I'm showering with all the other older boys, Why are we all planning on beating the hell out of this kid tonight because of reasons unknown, just to be a part of the cottage. Why did I suddenly become a part of this cottage and left all my friends behind, why am I supposed to be better than them now, How fast can I get back to my room before the night watchman, one hung low gets to my cottage, Why in the HELL does everyone in this place with authority want to take a good sized piece of wood and place it firmly on my little ass? Why am I here, where did I go wrong, why are your here, where did you go wrong? You are a scholar, You are a great football player, you really sing wonderfully, damn you can jump high, wow, you sure can climb that damn pecan tree and shake the hell out of it so that the white sheets catch tons of pecans. Hey, this Kiwanis club loves your look and academics, you are special let us put you on the "It List" you get to go here and you get to go "There". Now you are unpopular, guess what, Blanket party time. Wash the cloths, cut the grass, Pick the corn, Slop the Hogs, and Shovel the manure, bale the hay, sling blade the railroad tracks, give me 50 pushups, run 20 laps, you don't go to the football game this week, no TV, wash the dishes while everyone else plays, no allowance, no life, no sleep, crawl into a ball in your closet to get just a little sleep, thanks for that little space, clean the toilets, Wash the cars, do not, and I mean Do not disagree with the BHBs Asskissers or your life is on the Miserable list. unless of course you were really good and happened to be on the List of Asskissers. Secrets, Listen...What, Who did what...Man We will Mess that guy up...the counselor did what ....NO WAY MAN...we will not talk about that. God Forbid! These are our leaders ...our champions to set an example for us for when we ourselves become Grown Men. Would We Dare Abuse A Child, Bruises, Are You Crazy, Man You go to jail for that stuff now, how many full blown blows did you actually give to that little boy with a two foot board, what, you cut holes in it to make the pain greater. Holly Smokes, Did that really happen. What? Every day. Go figure. There is no way that child could grow up to have issues. Oh By the way, we forgot to mention, remember that beautiful pony that you have been training and fell in love with for the past year, well we sold him today for $100. we did not think that just Maybe, Just Maybe you would have liked to say goodbye to the one thing that made you feel great about this dictatorship environment. Oooops Now go and sit at the end of your bunk bed desk and study for 2 hours every night and be happy. Damn, we also forgot to mention that you will not be able to visit with your Mother today even though she came all the way here from Raleigh, to bring your little brother to join us in our little happy home, because something you did gave us the right to have you run laps while your mother and sister looked on from the sidelines while your little brother was being incarcerated into this loving environment. We forgot to mention that it is all because my Mother simply had Seven Children and could not take care of us all because your father just happened to skip out. Welcome to the Club Dean, I've been here a year now... so the day you come, you get to watch me run laps while tears run down my face. How could I ever have known what would lie before you. Molested by a piece of human waste your entire time there. Let's be clear Dean, My Brother was Gay. He died of Aids. Who is to know if the Boys Home put him on that path. I do know one thing for sure. Gay, Straight, Purple, Or Pastel... There is no excuse for a grown man to molest an 11 year old boy. Enough on that subject. It Happened, It's over He is resting peacefully next to my eldest Brother in Springhill Cemetery in Nashville Tennessee, right where my Mother and I will be laid to rest at the end of our great accomplishments and given as with everyone subsequent failures upon this Earth. My Days at Lake Waccamaw were not of my own doing, I was a victim of circumstance, | Return Home | Message Board | Events Schedule | Choir-CD Catalog | Great Links | FAQ Page | Contact Us | Photo Collections | Members Pages | |
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