In West Virginia, it is requisite that boys become hunters. I mean, if you don't kill a dear by the time you are at least 7, you have no hope. Therefore, I made my dad take me. My peers were going and I had made up my mind that I had to go to. I was 6. My dad told me no, but I said yes. It was dark, cold, and I peed my pants because I was not going to pee outside. The others boys made fun of me and we only saw one squirrel in what seemed like hours walking through the woods. I made up my mind again after that. I hated hunting, I will never go again. I hate guns and they serve no purpose in life today.
On a related note, my parents still love to tell the story of what happened around this same time period. The family was driving one of the many backroads on a Sunday afternoon, with loaded gun in tow. My dad could spot a living animal out of the corner of his eye like I can spot the hottest guy in any room in one second flat. Anyway, he rips the pickup over to the ditch and points out a squirrel. I can not see it when he is pointing right at it. He is clearly annoyed with me. Big deal I think. He rolls down the window and sticks out the gun -RUN SQUIRREL RUN- I scream. Now, I see the squirrel and he got away. My anti murder of innocent animals stance
was solidified.
Sex
I grew up around many, many cousins. The cousin closest to me in age was a girl, Mary. Our parents got along well and would hang out frequently. The whole extended family would get together at the homeplace on the farm every Sunday. The boys would play football after dinner. I tried it once, I got hit and cried and once again in my stubborn state decided that I would never have anything to do with football again.
Enter the alternative, Mary. What would we do? Play house, of course. Where? In the barn. Yes, I am from West Virginia and had sex with my cousin in a barn. That was between ages 6-8. Every Sunday we would take off together. Sometimes we would go to a bedroom upstairs and try to lock the door. Our shirts would come off first, followed by pants and underpants. I know it was not real sex, but we did just about everything we could with one another that our bodies would allow. I mean everything. We got caught kissing under the table in primary once and everybody got a laugh out of that. My mom caught us with our shirts off in my basement once. But we never got caught with our pants down. After I was baptized I had a feeling that we should not be doing this. I told Mary one Sunday afternoon as we were walking to the barn that we really needed to stop. I think we did it one or two more times after that. She did not want to stop. She was baptized a couple months after me. Winter came and we stopped. That was my last sexual activity for 13 years.
This was followed by me being "mental sick" in fourth grade. I have some memory of this, but mostly I have the journal that mom had me start as a record of what I now recognize as depression. I write of not having friends and wanting to move to a new school. I write of feeling alone. Although I did not record this, I remember starting in third grade having spontaneous erections in the middle of the day at school. I had no idea how to deal with that. I also remember some very perverted people in my grade. One kid had "flunked' fifth grade and was in our class. He made it so asking to sharpen your pencil was dirty and we had to say writing utensil. He also like to come up to me, and others(I think) and say "you have the whitest teeth I have ever come across" I knew it sounded dirty, but I just smiled. I don't think I had a clue what he really meant until probably after I was married.
End of elementary recollections.
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