The Year That Changed Me Forever

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Nineteen Hundred and Seventy-Six I was six years old and was the year that has changed me forever. More happened to me in this year than most people have happened to them in a life time. This was a year which started with much promise and end with great heart ache to our family of eight to which I was the second youngest. At the end of June my dad, Reed Gaylerd Breeden, was upset because his family was a close family and my mother was driving an emotional wedge between my dad and them. I did not know it at the time but my dad had hyper tense and Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, and in the seventies there were just starting to understand the effects of shell shock as they called it then, so that added to the stress my mom was putting on him something was bound to happen. Dad knew that his brothers and sisters where at my Grandma’s house doing yard work for her. My dad had had enough he was going down to help no matter what my mom thought. He got on his motorcycle and of he went. Just as he neared her house he said he felt lite headed which caused him to get light head and down he went. My Uncle David and Aunt Kathy where the first to him and helped him get up and over to the shade of a tree in the front yard. Uncle Richard called for an ambulance and Aunt Diana came to our house to tell us want had happened. As my mom got to the house the ambulance arrived and the men put dad on a gurney, placed in to the ambulance and off to the Salem Hospital they flew. Aunt Diane stayed with us as mom and the others went to the hospital. Dad had broken three ribs, dislocated his elbow, and collapsed a lung. The doctor where able to bandage his ribs, reset his elbow, and reinflated his lung so dad was out of the hospital in two days. Those days se... ... middle of paper ... ...ad big plans for that Halloween, he loved scaring kids. There were a lot of people there. There where Hells Angles, doctors, farmers and all sorts of people my dad knew. The cemetery was crowd to see my dad off. My dad was in the Navy but the reserve unit told my mom they did not have time to do military honors for my dad so my Uncle Al and my Uncle David’s friend did it. My uncle David had a small working cannon which he fired seven times in salute to my dad. I do not remember the rest of the day but I know my dad would have been honored by the turn out. I go back to his grave sometimes on the day he died; which is always during hunting season, and a couple of years ago there were two doe’s with their fawns bed down on my dad’s grave. I kind of chuckled to myself and thought if they only knew the type of man that lay to rest underneath them they would not be there.
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