Southern Living, Part 8th Grade.

Well, folks let me tell ya, as far as I am concerned, the 8th grade sucked stump water!
"Coach Billy Hood", my cousin was gone. In his place, we had "Coach Bailey"! The sorriest scum of the earth as far as I was and still am (assuming he is still living)concerned. I didn't like him! He didn't like me! We got along all year as well as fire and gasoline! Still had Mrs. Woods, bless her heart for science and Mrs. Ryals for English.
Let me diverge a moment to talk a bit about my Elementary School Principal. Mr. Perrin Bishop. Mr. Bishop was a fine Southern gentleman. He was as fair and unbiased as anyone could ever ask. I really liked and respected him. A fine man and principal!
Back to the rest of 8th grade hell. I have probably blocked most memories of the 8th out of my mind. I really did not enjoy any part of this year with two exceptions.
I was dating, such as it was, my first true love, Helen Smith. She enjoys a warm spot in my heart to this day!
Secondly, this, 1960, was the year I became a BROTHER! My baby brother, Louie Paul Sheffield was born on October 20th. A fat, wiggly little squirt he was. (and still is, har!)
Back in those days, you didn't know what sex your baby was going to be. Anybody's guess. Mom and Dad had the name Susan Marie Sheffield picked out for a girl, and Louie (my Dad's first name) Paul Sheffield picked out for a boy. Anyhow, L.P.Sheffield popped out, after much labor.
A word about the delivery, Doctor Sandifer was the Doctor who delivered both me and my brother. Momma had been in the labor room for about 2 days when Doc. Sandifer came in with a pillowcase. Mom asked him what was in the sack. "Chicken feathers!" he responded. ""If you burn dominecker chicken feathers, it will induce labor!"
Thereupon, he poured out that pillowcase full of feathers on the floor of the hospital and made out like he was about to set them afire!
My Mama, shy and receeding as she was, told him to "Get his ass and his feathers outta her room", that she would deliver the baby when she was "Damn well ready!"
And she did, the next morning.
Nuff said, lets leave the 8th grade and move to High School.
Bye Now!