First Born

Tom was the oldest, born May 7th, 1953. Died six days short of his 17th birthday, May 1st, 1970.
If I am truthful, I have to admit, I don't remember Tom. His death occurred 3 days after my 6th birthday. He was in a car wreck, a single car accident. From what I understand he lost control on a curved road and veered off the road and down an embankment.

After the accident Tom was taken to Greenville Medical Center in Greenville, SC. Surgeries were performed, but to no avail.

As Tom lay in one hospital bed in South Carolina, mama lay in another in Georgia. Just a year earlier mama and ma-ma had been in an accident that left them both mangled and broken. Mama had several surgeries after that wreck and was recuperating from her most recent, when Tom had his accident.

Daddy was a hero during this time, he travelled back and forth between the two, but spent most of his time with Tom as mama was stable.

Throughout High School Tom played football, he was a running back. Daddy was his head coach. As Tom's condition worsened it wasn't apparent which of his faculties he still had control over. After consulting with Doctor's daddy found a way to communicate with Tom. He held both of Tom's hands and would call out football plays. It was Tom's responsibility to squeeze Daddy's hand on the side he should run.

Tom died soon after that final game between he and daddy.

In the days that followed, all of God's Country came to our sides to comfort my family. It isn't every day that a High School Senior with such promise dies. It isn't every day that a High School Senior and son to two respected teachers dies. Tom's death shook our small town to the core.

I don't have a lot of memories about the days leading up to Tom's death, but I do have memories that have lasted for almost 40 years of the days that followed.

I remember being sent to my neighbors house to play when Sam and I returned home from Church that Sunday morning.

I remember being called back to the house a short time later and daddy taking Sam and I into our bedroom to tell us Tom was dead. I don't remember what was said, I just remember my daddy holding Sam and I.

I remember mama being wheeled into the funeral home on a hospital stretcher. I remember seeing Tom and crying. I remember my Aunt Beck held me until I saw my kindergarten teacher and then she held me and let me cry.

The funeral was held in an overflowing Clayton Baptist Church. My only memory from that day was sitting beside Sam, at one point I looked up at him and a single tear was streaming down his face, that is a memory that has been ingrained with me forever.

A child's death could destroy many marriages and families. I won't say our was unharmed because that would be a lie, but our family stayed together. The Spring of 1970 was the most bitter of my life and it is one that I have the least memories of ever.

During the months that followed Tom's death we marked our first Christmas without him, we watched as his classmates went back to school and then graduated. We marked birthdays and holidays and every day in between. Mama and Daddy have marked those same dates on the second year, 5th year, 8th year, 12th, 16th, 20th, 25th, 28th, 30th and this May they will mark the 40th.

Mama and Daddy mark Tom's death with quite reverence and dignity, but I know they mark the date and all the other dates they wish he were here for.

For me, Tom became an oil painting that hung over our sofa. From time to time someone would mention his name and something he had done and we would all smile, but for the most part Tom wasn't discussed in our house for many years.

Several years ago, I felt like it was time for me to know about Tom. I had been told how much he loved his baby brother, how we doted on me, what a great athlete he was, how smart he was, but I never really knew him, so I decided it was time for me to meet my brother Tom.

Mama and Daddy were coming to Florida on a vacation and I told them before they came that I wanted to talk about Tom. One night during their stay, the three of us sat on the balcony of their condo overlooking the ocean. For hours we talked about Tom, we laughed and we cried, but after that night I knew my brother.

I will always remember that night as one of the most important in my life.

Tom's death broke us, be it didn't destroy us. Through it all we have persevered as a family....together.

I am grateful to mama and daddy, Sam, our grandparents, extended family and the family of God's Country for bringing us through.

I am sure Tom would be proud of all of us.