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I was 15 — it was illegal but it was his way of offering me what he had – the keys. I have never been shy about getting my plate and as model-skinny as I was back then my bottomless pit eating was a neighborhood joke.
For me I knew right then we were kindred spirits– my Daddy gave me freedom and a highway. My oldest son is 15 (he’s now 18 geez, this blog post took me a long time). My son is the same age when I first fell in love and found a connection with God and with the mountains. I would always arrive at my neighbor’s doorstep hungry and barefoot I grew up in the suburbs of sorts in a nice quiet town – middle class.
I have no memory of them together but in this statement I knew he knew my Momma well. She’s bright, beautiful — and biracial (he has a different girlfriend since the time this was written but, still bright, beautiful and biracial). Two months after I turned 16 after living with my father for 8 moths — I decided to go home to West Virginia.I finally asked my Dad – he agreed – and I painted a very reliable picture of the woman I had been working with for two weeks.My father dropped me off in the parking lot to meet my supervisor.There are a lot of turns between Richmond and Charleston. I was anxious to get home and nothing was going to stop me.Not this car or the puppies I discovered I would be sharing the back seat with.