The good old days some like to call it. Well Im not so sure about the past being called good old days. I will be 67 years old this coming Saturday and today I took time to glance back on some of those good old days as some like to reference to them. In 1965 I was making less than $3.00 a day and required to be ready to go at all hours of the day and or night, 7 days a week, 24 hours a day. I was subject to harassment,bullying, verbal and physical abuse, and forced to function on very little sleep. I had to sleep in a large bay with 50 other men, eat out of a can and pick up cigarette butts that I did not smoke and trash that I did not throw away. I was told that I was going to get killed and was less than human. I was a maggot and lower than whale shit. Jodie had my girl and he was not going to give her up. Yep, I was a private in Ft. Polk, La and there was no need of looking back or down. I made it because there was no time to feel sorry for yourself, or anyone to snitch to. I am today due to the hardships of yesterday and not the good old days as far as I am concerned. One only has to glance back to appreciate the reasons for moving forward.dw
Posted on: Mon, 03 Mar 2014 23:49:32 +0000
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