The Twins He was a master machinist, but along with it he carried the reputation of a black temper and abusive ways towards his wife and children. Several years before his suicide, he had contracted polio. After spending a year in an iron lung, he returned to his work and built his own motorized wheelchair. Still, he did not stop drinking, which only worsened his frustration and rages. Money intended for food and bills got spent on alcohol and his children suffered greatly for it.
His wife and children already knew what it was like to put up with his meanness. Now the legacy he helped create would tear apart a family forever. The oldest child, Glenna, was a girl of 11, her childhood left behind many years before as she took on the responsibilities of caring for her brothers and sisters as each was born. She was fiercely protective of them, but it was impossible for her to control the actions of her brothers closest to her in age--they wandered the streets and often got into mischief. There was Paul, and Glenn and Philip; then Jimmy, Beverly and "the twins", Dale and Gale.
The twins became big sister's new lease on life--the boy was content to occupy himself, but the girl--ah, she thought Glenna was her personal entertainment. Unable to say, "Glenna", big sister became "Ninnie"--the name sticks to this day. And how could a big sister resist such chubby arms outstretched upward, in a plea to be held and loved and made to feel secure?
At a time when most girls her age were concerned with making friends and having fun and showing off new clothes, "Ninnie" quietly imagined the twins were her own children. She cared for them as she promised herself she someday would her very own children. Every day was an endless cycle of dressing and bathing and feeding them. Yet she faithfully tended them, despite the daily chaos of a crowded, noisy house with too little to eat and no emotional stability whatsoever.
Dickson being the small town it was in those days, word got around about the family on Sylvia Street. Neighbors talked about seeing the older children looking dirty and how they would feed them because they seemed to always be hungry. The man and his wife heard about the children, and on his way from work, he would detour to that part of town and drive slowly down the street to catch a glimpse of the children out in the yard. Sure enough, there were a lot of children, and then one day, he got to see "the twins"; big sister had them out in the yard, overseeing their play as they waddled about in their diapers and shirts.
He hurried home to tell his wife about "those twins"; they soon paid a visit to let the mother know they would help her by allowing two of the older boys to stay with them a while, if it would give her some relief. However, the arrangement didn't last. The boys missed their home, as lacking as it was, and were soon returned to their family.
Ninnie vowed it would never happen--she would do whatever it took to keep them from being taken. She hated that couple! Why did they insist on taking her brother and sister? She pleaded and begged and threatened, to no avail. Her mother's mind was made up--nothing Ninnie said or did could change that which had been set in motion.
In her child's mind, she tried to think of all kinds of ways to keep it from happening, but too soon, the prearranged day arrived and so did the couple to take the twins. She had promised herself to not let on in front of them, but they were taking her heart, "her" babies--she tore from the arms of those holding her and chased the car, screaming after it, but it was done. They were gone. She couldn't know that despite all she had already suffered, there was more to come.
In the meantime, "Ninnie" was being sexually molested by the men in her mother's life. When she told her mom, she was repeatedly punished for lying. Her brothers and sisters had been the only thing that meant anything to her at all. They would all be wrested from her. Life had no meaning beyond that of the violence she was forced to endure day after day.
The mother took the oldest boy, Paul, to town to buy him a new suit of clothes. He was delighted at the windfall, but she had another surprise waiting for him: on the way home, she escorted him through the gates of the Nashville Preparatory School and drove off, leaving him with no explanation. He kept running away, trying to find her, trying to find out what he had done wrong, but to no avail--by that time she and her boyfriend and the only child she kept, our beloved Ninnie, had left the state.
There are those of the brothers and sisters who have never understood why Glenna was kept, while they were given away. No one did her any favors by it. It's not rocket science--she was kept because the mother's boyfriend demanded it, and she was old enough to do the housework and prepare the meals. At the age of fourteen, she became pregnant by her mother's boyfriend; the beautiful baby girl born to her was named after her two "lost" sisters.
Through the years, Jim and his parents and occasionally Beverly and her parents, would come for a visit. At best, they were infrequent and were certainly no basis for building any type of relationship.
Dale and I were thrust into the "limelight", so to speak. We were the featured attraction at church, where Daddy "showed us off" and encouraged us to sing. Mama dressed us in the finest she could make. She was highly skilled as a seamstress and we were forever being "oooh'ed and aaaaaah'ed" because of her diligence. They always told us we were adopted, so there was no "family secret" to discover in later years.
It was also the first time I ever saw Daddy cry so brokenly. When he came back from his errands and walked in, Philip rushed to him and they literally clung to each other. Daddy kept saying, "Son, will you forgive me? Will you forgive me?" I found out later from Mama that Philip had come home with them for a while, before Dale and I did, but he didn't want to stay, so they took him back. Daddy had always regretted not going back after him.
We had such a nice visit--Philip stayed three days. He bought a wristwatch for each of us. We got to ride in that light-yellow Mustang of his. He smelled good and dressed neatly--and he was so sweet to us, so mannerly! Even now I can almost smell his hat--he forgot it when he left and I treasured it for a very long time.
It was several years before I heard from Philip again: in late-February of 1972, I was awakened by the police at my front door, with an urgent summons to get to a phone and call "Ninnie." The news was that Philip had committed suicide in his car on Interstate 40 in Nashville. He was an alcoholic; his wife had left him and he was destraught over not getting to see his son. We almost had a family reunion then--except Beverly came by before the rest of us got there one morning. She couldn't view her dead brother and didn't want to see any of the living ones. Jimmy couldn't get home from maneuvers in the Air Force.
The last time I saw Beverly, we met at a local mall. She has a lovely face. I got to see her grown daughter and visit with them both a bit. That was about six years ago. All attempts to establish a relationship have failed.
The last time I saw Glenn was in the early '70's; I saw Paul sometime in 1991 or 1992. Others have heard from him, but I haven't. The last time I heard from Dale was the early part of 1991. No one has heard from him since--all efforts to locate him have come up empty.
Yet God, in His marvelous Perfection, had already done the work. You can imagine my pleasure to hear "Mom B" talk about how much she loved the Lord Jesus Christ and what He had come to mean in her life. We found out in October that she had advanced pancreatic cancer and was not long for this life. On February 3, 2000, she passed into eternal rest. I did get the opportunity to speak with her the day before she passed on--she knew who I was and I got to reassure her that I loved her and all was well between her and me.
It's been very hard on Ninnie--she had stuck with "Mom" all these years and living the distance she does from here, visits are hard to afford. Yet how wonderful to hear her talk about Jesus and what He has come to mean in her life, too.
First, you see, I miss my brothers and sisters through what I see other brothers and sisters' relationships are, such as my own children. How they share things between themselves, even the fussing and sibling rivalry. And yes, I miss Dale an awful lot. I do not deny that my heart yearns to know if he's all right, if he is loved and living well.
But you see, the same God who, without any input from me other than my prayers, did the mighty work in "Mom B's" and Ninnie's lives, can take care of him (and the others). Sure, I'd like to know how/where he is, but I can't afford to waste away over what I cannot change. I rely on the Lord Jesus Christ to do what needs to be done in his life, for He will do it perfectly!
And secondly, Proverbs 18:24 tells us, ...there is a friend that sticketh closer than a brother. I call that friend, Jesus. He has done exceeding, abundantly great works in my life. Not the least of which are the brothers and sisters in Him that He has led me to come to know. I dare not allow myself pine away for lost years, for it's all in His hands and He knows what's best. To waste time over things I cannot control would only detract from the Christian love and friendship I have come to know through His gifts to me of my Christian brothers and sisters.
Heavenly Father, You know all things. You are where I can never be--You can do what needs to be done in the lives of each of my brothers and sisters. And not only mine, but all brothers and sisters. Do a mighty work in all their lives, that they may come to know You, as never before.
And Heavenly Father, I thank You, with all my heart, for the gifts of Christian friendship and fellowship You have given me. Only You and I can know what each of these folks mean to me. Help me, Heavenly Father, to be a faithful sister to them, to bear them up in prayer and stand by them in encouragement each and every day, Lord.
I thank You that You hear me when I pray. I thank You that the hope I have in You is eternal. I thank You for that reunion day that's coming, Lord, where never again will there be any separation between those who know and love You. I thank You, Father, for all the years, and yes, all the tears, for not a one was wasted. Amen and Amen.
Each of us have our own burdens. We can't know what that person next to us has been through, or what that soul at the altar is broken about. But we can remember to pray, to lift them to the Lord Jesus Christ, in our prayers. Yes, there is a peace that passes all understanding, and we can remember to pray for those who don't know Him to find their way to Him. He's just waiting for that invitation, to come in and "sup" with them. Now, won't you remember to pray for both those who know the Lord as Savior but are discouraged, as well as the lost? Please?
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