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Doc King Cole - Nicholas Sparks Cant Beat Newberry!

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Doc King Cole Nicholas Sparks Cant Beat Newberry!
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It was 1973, Nixon had not yet resigned, U. S. troops were still in Vietnam. We had three channels to choose from. Drug use was casual and nobody was getting busted. Gas prices were high as they are know. I remember seeing that Rolling Stones eight track tape in my sisters boyfriends hot rod car. I remember the posters of Zep, Alice Cooper, and the lava lamps. Hendrix stood on a wall all to his own attesting to highs gone too far.

Then me and the Bentons down the street decided to get into some trouble. The Bentons were the bad asses, the bullys, the thugs if you will. The three Brothers were in their early teens, and I was there prey. They wanted to cajole me into their antics, and if I didnt they would beat the shit out of me! As much as I tried to avoid them on the playground, they were always there. In the next couple of paragraphs I will allude to our antics in a few minutes okay?

Then there was the project Gallman Heights gang. They were African Americans who used to beat me like white devil slave masters. I remember three of them taking a huge limb, swinging back like George Brett (Kansas City Royals 3rd baseman), and nailing me in the back. I saw stars, and think was passed out for a while. When I came to, they were gone, but left there trusting pine limb as a reminder not to mess with them.

But you could not get me off the playground. I remember fighting three of them at one time like a corned animal on the Discovery Channel. One tried to rip my gums out while on top of me. I rolled over, grabbed a nearby stick and hit him in the ribs with all of my seven year old might. He ran off and told his other two hench kids. Then they came over chasing me, so I saw a point were there was a rim from tire. I hurled it at one nailing him in the right anterior thigh. Then I took on the one with the karate skills and laughed while he tried in vain to hurt me with his gentle kicks. I nailed him with a right haymaker and poof gone!

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Nicholas Sparks Can't Beat Newberry!

All Rights Reserved

Cover photo by Erica Dorocke, available under a Creative Commons license

Copyright 2012 DOC KING COLE

All Rights Reserved .This book may not be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in whole or in part by any means, including graphic, electronic, or mechanical without the express written consent of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Booktango books may be ordered through booksellers or by contacting:

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ISBN: 978-1-4689-0958-6 (ebook)

NICHOLAS SPARKS CAN'T BEAT NEWBERRY!

Below this line is The Table of Contents

Table of Gay Contents (Joking, This Author does not judge)

I. First Grade in Newberry SC

II. Gang Wars and Miki, First Girlfriend

III. My Crazy RIP Mother

IV. Breaking the Law and Then Some...Miki Again

V. Love, Moneymance and Leaving for Iraq

VI. Post Script

Out in the fields, I fought for my meals, I get my back into my living I dont need to fight to prove Im right, I dont need to be forgiven! Baba ORiley, lyrics by Pete Townsend of the Who.

As I listened to REO Speedwagon this December morning, nearly 24 years later the kisses I laid upon my hopes still come cailing me to the pine trees and hard clay ground of Newberry. Ladies and Gentleman in order for you to feel this sparkle of maudlin imagination, put on Hi Infidelity by the Speedwagon and get ready to ride off with us, The Newberry Riders. Go put the kids away at ma maws, and let me take you on my mental escape.

Resting in my grave whenever that might be, judgement upn my soul will have passed over my furled brow. Powers beyond me elevate my body to a different plane. The spinal column is examined for all the past decay. My son, you where neither hot nor cold. Depart frm me for I never knew you! For you understood the law, therefore you will be judged by the law.

The deep silence after those words were uttered, I could not respond. Paralyzed beyond all control, images of childhood mischief ran over my head about 12 feet above me. Sort of a this was your life sort of documentary. Gee I remember drinking that perfume. Wow, me and Halie under the porch playing doctor and nurse. Oh that dirty book I glossed over in the old Chevy Truck. Man, I thought nobody knew about that. I mean I was only a kid, I said to myself. I was trying to console myself at the gates of heaven.

It was 1973, Nixon had not yet resigned, U. S. troops were still in Vietnam. We had three channels to choose from. Drug use was casual and nobody was getting busted. Gas prices were high as they are know. I remember seeing that Rolling Stones eight track tape in my sisters boyfriends hot rod car. I remember the posters of Zep, Alice Cooper, and the lava lamps. Hendrix stood on a wall all to his own attesting to highs gone too far.

Then me and the Bentons down the street decided to get into some trouble. The Bentons were the bad asses, the bullys, the thugs if you will. The three Brothers were in their early teens, and I was there prey. They wanted to cajole me into their antics, and if I didnt they would beat the shit out of me! As much as I tried to avoid them on the playground, they were always there. In the next couple of paragraphs I will allude to our antics in a few minutes okay?

Then there was the project Gallman Heights gang. They were African Americans who used to beat me like white devil slave masters. I remember three of them taking a huge limb, swinging back like George Brett (Kansas City Royals 3 rd baseman), and nailing me in the back. I saw stars, and think was passed out for a while. When I came to, they were gone, but left there trusting pine limb as a reminder not to mess with them.

But you could not get me off the playground. I remember fighting three of them at one time like a corned animal on the Discovery Channel. One tried to rip my gums out while on top of me. I rolled over, grabbed a nearby stick and hit him in the ribs with all of my seven year old might. He ran off and told his other two hench kids. Then they came over chasing me, so I saw a point were there was a rim from tire. I hurled it at one nailing him in the right anterior thigh. Then I took on the one with the karate skills and laughed while he tried in vain to hurt me with his gentle kicks. I nailed him with a right haymaker and poof gone!

Okay back to the Benton gang. We decided to rob Speers Street Elementary School. The trailers were open all summer for cleaning. In our attempt to become expert crime lords, we also marked a small clock warehouse! Yeah we were watch makers needing those spare parts to make those fake nolexes! I know we vandalized the clock shop due to the fact there was nothing we could use, sell or really wanted. The clocks were the bedside kind with the pathetic bells that wing bllllinng, rinnggg, and then dead due to the windup principle.

The first encounter I had with Newberrys finest was during homeroom in the first grade in Mrs. Dewalts class. I was never more afraid then or now. The jig was up I thought! Someone had ratted us out, but who? Unless Bobby (the oldest Benton) cooped a deal where they let him off if he confessed me in as part as a plea bargaining package.

Mr. Bolchoz, we have reason to believe you were involved in stealing and vandalizing this school. We also know you were part of a group that vandalized Mr. Murphys clock shop. We are watching you, so if you decide to do any more stealing or plundering, we will send you away to R and E. R&E was the reform school in Columbia where the real bad kids were expelled to for a long time. Hell my sister had served some time in that barbed wire rehabiliation facility. There were guards than at Guantonamo Bay Cuba.

Then moving forward to 1976 about Novemeber after Carter shocked the world defeating Ford in the Presidential Campaign. I was in the third grade sporting my mothers high school letter jacket during my school potrait. She refused to buy the pictures because I put up the thumbs up in the photo.

Well I continued to be a kleptomaniac by stealing soldiers and matchbox cars from the downtown Roses Department Store on Main Street across from Newberrys Opera House. Other venues of grab happy mayhem ensued at The Market Basket grocery store, Edwards shopping store (like todays Wally World). Again that voice echoed at my judgement Thou shall not steal! Yet no reply nor light came from my soul. I was in a state of purgatory (Catholic for suffering after death for sins or cleaning up your soul).

In retrospect the locals all knew my great grandmother Julia Blalock. Julia was the first woman I think in the state to open up a dry cleaners. She had married well to a furniture salesman. She had money, a big house off Caldwell Street not far from downtown. People in town knew her grand kids were wild due to their crazy mother! So maybe I was able to avoid capture due to Julias phone pleas.

But the main part of our story occurs during the years of 1980-1982. Those were days right before cyber space was even thought to have a chance at existence. We walked, we rode bikes, and ran away from the law! The we was of course were mine friends. We always saw ourselves as the James Gang, or outlaws. We were the poor kids without any fathers at home keeping us from crossing over the lines on highways. Our summit gatherings were by the airport across from school buses we could vandalize.

Part of the intransient crew consisted of Ronald, Timmy, Billy, Ken, John, Johnny, and yours coolly. Well Ronald was the ring leader. He was 15 trying to remain an embryonic 13. He was taller, could drive, and quicker at pulling off capers. More on that later. His cousin Timmy lived with Ronald. Timmy was 12, a year my junior. He was the happiest of us all. He always had that blonde flat top with a Cheshire grin. Enter Billy, the most violent and humorous character in the crew. Billy was more portly than all of us, but not a weight watcher candidate.

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