In the summer between my Junior and Senior year, our family, Mom and Dad and nine children, moved from Columbus, Ga to Andalusia, Al. I was devatated to change schools and homes at that time in my life, and my Dad kept telling me that God had a plan for my life. I doubted it, but I let him think that I believed what he said.
Despite my beliefs, God did have a plan. Included in that divine plan for this immature little 17-year old high school senior, was a strapping, muscled-up 18-year old who had dropped out of high school because he needed to go to work. His parents were older when he was born and he still had two brothers younger than himself at home. He worked so that the two younger ones could finish school.
Well, here I was one evening after school playing softball in this kid’s yard down the block. These kids, mostly boys, were one to two years younger than me, but I was small for my age, and obviously immature. We played a few times a week because one guy had a huge back yard. There I am standing at the plate with a bat in my hand, ready to knock the cover off the ball, deciding whether to go to right field or down the middle. A pulpwood truck drives right up onto the field, over the pitcher’s mound and points the headlights toward home plate. It stops for a minute, the motor dies, and Bo, the guy whose yard it is, hustles from centerfield, runs over to the truck, yelling and shouting, fists pounding on the truck, and demands that Pete move the truck. The door opens, and this tanned “hunk” steps from the truck, looking like Paul Bunyan, and pays no attention to Bo. He struts into the house with his shirt on his shoulder and that brown curly hair blowing in the wind. It was love at first sight!