Brother David
July 4, 2008
Today is my big brother David’s birthday. ` Happy Birthday, David ` !
Yes, a fire cracker was born to our family, in 1960. We are sixteen months apart in age. I like to remember David in his `Buster Brown`, cloths. The little shorts with little man shirt. How cute !
I remember thinking how difficult it must have been to be a first born, son. Due to him having two older sister’s who thought we knew everything. Interesting, that David was born on our great grandfather Culpepper’s birthdate, July 4th. Our younger brother Terry, was born on our grandfather Culpepper’s birthdate, January 7th.
I completed a research on pattern birthdates within families. And July 4th, was one of the` Guinness World Record’s 2008`, birthdates, for the record for the most generations born on the same day.
( See research below, and scroll down for the continuance of : Brother David )
Page #67, of Guinness World Records 2008 ---- by Betty C. Clark
Under : Human Beings :
Family Trees
· The record for the most generations born on the same day is four,
and is held by five families:
· Ralph Betram Williams (USA, born 4-4-1982)
· Veera Tuulia Tuijantyar Kivisto (Finland, born 3-21-1997)
· Maureen Werner (USA, born 10-13-1998)
· Jacob Camren Hildebrandt (USA, born 8-23-2001)
· Mion Masuda (Japan, born 3-26-2005) . . . all share their birthday
with a parent, grandparent and great-grandparent.
My father is one of 13 children.
His birthday was 8-23, like the one listed above.
He is one of seven brothers and six sisters. His baby brother is the
7th son of a 7th son, just like the Johnnie Rivers ole tune.
Out of almost 30 grandchildren with the Culpepper surname, my
two (2) brothers were born on a great-grandparent and grandparent birthday.
Interesting, one of those dates is July 4th, just like the record family
listed above. ( I have known two other July 4th people in my life)
I always thought it odd that out of so many grandchildren, how my two brother’s were born on the ancestor birthdates, and none of the other grandchildren were.
Must be something to that July 4th date, in the worldwide theme
of the most generations born on the same day . .
Continued : Brother David
At school age, the teacher’s escorted David, as the leader of the class. He was so small, the teacher thought she would loose him.
You would never know by his size and stature today, that he was so small in the first grade. The teacher would hold his hand and all the kiddies would follow the leader to go outside to play, to head toward the lunch room and I would observe this from the school hallway’s, during the course of the school period’s. I always thought, ` There goes my brother, the head of the class `.
As we grew up we did so much traveling, due to daddy’s job. We really enjoyed our playtime, in Section, Alabama, at the ole `Presley` house. This house was built from bedrock. Due to the rock on the outside of the house, it maintained an internal temperature of comfort. The winters were chilly. The summers never to hot, inside the ole rock homeplace.
This house held secret closets. Yes, we could enter in one bedroom and travel through to other bedrooms through the closets. `Hide & Seek`, was a regular entertainment in this house. David loved animals, just like all our family members did. Outside, daddy had chicken coups for laying hens. And we always got to hold the new born chicks and quickly return them before the mother hen was fluffing her wings, to flog us.
Also, daddy always cut open the side of wooden telephone reels. They were the height of a pic-nic table, with a round circular, top and bottom
wooden surface. The reel side panel’s could be taken out, to make an opening.
Daddy who was in telecommunications, (see his story under blog section: Milford E. Culpepper), had access to dozens of these wooden reels. He would make doghouses, play houses, chicken coups and pic-nic tables, out of these reels. I can remember that David, Terry and myself could crawl inside these reels and still have room to breathe. ( Ha )
So having pretend tea parties, playing house inside these wooden reels was very much a memory none of us kids will forget.
One fond memory of David, is when he rescued me from the snake that was trying to bite our bird dog, `Spot`. The bad memory is I ran and locked the front door and David was pounding on the door, for me to let him in. Finally, I overcame my fear of the snake and let him inside. If David had not warned me, the snake would have bitten me for sure.
When David became old enough to get his driver license, I finally accepted I was no longer the boss over him. Until then, I thought it was my duty to inform my parents about everything he did.
I remember how David and Terry both, loved to prowl through my girl things, when I was away from home. This caused daddy to put a key lock, on my bedroom door. Which helped everyone to get some peace and silence, from my outburst of my stuff being rambled through. I thought boys just were jealous of all that good girl junk. ( Ha )
As we grew into teenager’s I could depend on David to help me. And he could depend on me to help him. We both have shared many secrets. Some secrets were `life & death` issues, which we have a bond of trust regarding. Now with his own two boys, I think about the parallel’s between David’s two boys and my two brothers.
David is an expert, in hot rod car restoration. He manages his own farm land with crops and livestock. Plus bi-monthly he monitors public water quality.
One story of his humanitarian characteristic, is about a lady we will call
`Mrs. L`.
She had an elderly father who was bed ridden. My brother freely came daily to administer assistance in his bathing and physical well being. Also David mowed the pasture lands, for Mrs. L and was available to help her as needed. Elderly people adore David’s soft spoken spirit.
Just like daddy, both my brother’s are wilderness hunters. Seasonal deer hunters, using self-made deer stands and processing deer meat prepared for family and neighbors freezers. As a green thumb garden expert, David can bring the top crop yields in regard to family favorite vegetables, like corn, okra, cucumber, squash, pepper, beans, potato, tomatoes.
When you visit David’s property, every garden metal cage, every vine and garden tool, are all set up in complete order. His garden looks like plowed ground, groomed on a photograph of ‘Home & Garden’, magazine.
I would like to conclude my respect for my brother David. I feel my brother is a true survivor. His life experiences since daddy’s death, have proven the strength of character within our bloodlines. My wish is for his boys to learn ¼, of what David has acquired in knowledge of life. His challenges I think are examples of his July 4th ancestry birthdate. May the future generations live a code of land to earth ethics, like the respect my brother David honors toward God, in his protection of nature.
I love you always, David . . .
Love you sis,
Betty Jean
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
BROTHER : TERRY
Brother Terry
June 21, 2008
When my brother Terry was born, in Mena, Arkansas, 1963, my family was happy when he weighed 5 pounds as a premature infant, that he could be brought home.
I can remember mother in her rocking chair, rocking Terry. And me in my rocking chair, rocking my doll. Since I was four years older, than Terry, I thought he was a doll. This memory of both mother and myself rocking our babies, is a great way to remember how I felt about our baby brother. As time went by we adored how cute Terry was. He always had a big belly and little legs. We thought he looked like he had swallowed a balloon. Terry never said my name correct, `Betty`. He would say, `Bit-te`. Like a horses `bit` and bridle, with a golf `tee` sound. Years of being called `Bit-te`, was very excepted by our family. Even Terry’s language skills rubbed off on our daddy. He would say, `Bit-te Jean`. Putting my first and middle name together in a rush, especially when angry.
As Terry grew, he was still our little baby brother no matter how grown up he became. One day in Dekalb County, Alabama, at a mobile home park, Terry and a neighbor’s child named Sheila, were always at conflict with each other.
Sheila decided she would find herself an empty coca-cola bottle and walk toward Terry with purpose to knock him in the head. I ran toward Sheila and got the glass bottle away from her, just in time before she accomplished her dirty deed. This caused Sheila to run all the way home screaming and crying to the top of her lung’s.
Another neighborhood scene, is with our bike club. A group of children would ride bikes together. These bicycle riders were also our yard game soccer ball players. Everytime we played any outside game, Terry always got hurt. So we would tell him prior to the game, “If you cry when you get hurt, do not tell mother, or she will make us all come inside”. Sometimes the kids would resort to holding our hands over Terry’s mouth, to silence him from mother’s ears.
Another memory of Terry was how he could pound his head, just like `Curly`, on the T.V. comedy show, “Three Stooges”. Our friends, the famous bicycle gang, would dare him to hit the brick house, with his head. Which was very entertaining , for our guest.
One day in Section, Alabama we were in 1968, moving to the new house in Dekalb County. Daddy’s doghouse was on top of the truck bed, when Terry decided to climb up on this doghouse. He slipped and fell head first into the metal bumper hitch of the back of the truck. Which resulted in Terry having a huge gushing gash on his head. This would have been when Terry turned five years old. Of course, this head injury was serious. However, since I was a child myself, I kept thinking his tough head is due to all the practice of head butting, we encouraged in the name of entertainment. I resolved myself he was going to be fine.
The most enduring memory was Terry being a thumb sucker. We would jointly as a family coax Terry to stop sucking his thumb, to prevent buck teeth. However, this never worked. No matter how much black pepper, iodine, rubbing alcohol or nasty concoction we mixed together, to soak this thumb in, nothing prevented Terry, from daily thumb sucking.
Also a fond memory about Terry was his love of peanutbutter and jelly sandwiches. He literally lived off of peanutbutter. So much so, that he would start a gag reflux if a green vegetable was hinted at. This of course, started a chain reaction of daddy enforcing green vegetable rules. With mother putting Terry away from the dinner table. Of course, she had already told Terry not to fear, she would return later that night with a `secret` made peanutbutter and jelly sandwich.
Now let us talk about candy. Yes, Terry loved candy. All kinds of sugar based cereals with the fun boxed toy surprises, delighted him. One favorite choice was `Captain Crunch`, cereal.
The next memory is concerning Terry always being the child, who turned over his milk glass. I always prayed , “Lord, please let us eat our food before Terry turns over the milk”. Due to daddy becoming so angry about how often this would happen at dinner time.
By the time Terry was 16, I was 20 years old. And he and brother David had one year previous, 1979, given CPR to daddy, to keep him alive until the ambulance arrived. However, he had a massive heart attack and nothing could save him. From 1979, Terry @15 and David @17 years old, became the men of the household. By the time that Terry had graduated High School he and mother were a team. Terry continues from 1979 until 2008, 29 years later, he is still mowing and weed eating the homeplace. He has provided a continuance of financial, physical and emotional support for our mother. Without Terry, mother would have lost her desire to move forward after daddy’s death.
My brother Terry is a man of God (IHVH). He is a leader in faith at his church and his community.
When this earth passes away, I imagine the meeting Between Terry and daddy, on the new earth. Embraced shoulder to shoulder, man to man, they shall enter the new gates of Jerusalem, with the old flesh man put away, the renewal of father and son will be a celebration long awaited for. Both men will have all negative remembrance thrown into the sea of forgetfulness. Both men will worship our heavenly Father, equal in spirit, resolutions achieved, all `adam` traits relinquenced. My brother Terry is a man our daddy would have honored, to be his son.
I love you, Terry !
Love your sister, forever, Betty `Bit-te` . . .:
June 21, 2008
When my brother Terry was born, in Mena, Arkansas, 1963, my family was happy when he weighed 5 pounds as a premature infant, that he could be brought home.
I can remember mother in her rocking chair, rocking Terry. And me in my rocking chair, rocking my doll. Since I was four years older, than Terry, I thought he was a doll. This memory of both mother and myself rocking our babies, is a great way to remember how I felt about our baby brother. As time went by we adored how cute Terry was. He always had a big belly and little legs. We thought he looked like he had swallowed a balloon. Terry never said my name correct, `Betty`. He would say, `Bit-te`. Like a horses `bit` and bridle, with a golf `tee` sound. Years of being called `Bit-te`, was very excepted by our family. Even Terry’s language skills rubbed off on our daddy. He would say, `Bit-te Jean`. Putting my first and middle name together in a rush, especially when angry.
As Terry grew, he was still our little baby brother no matter how grown up he became. One day in Dekalb County, Alabama, at a mobile home park, Terry and a neighbor’s child named Sheila, were always at conflict with each other.
Sheila decided she would find herself an empty coca-cola bottle and walk toward Terry with purpose to knock him in the head. I ran toward Sheila and got the glass bottle away from her, just in time before she accomplished her dirty deed. This caused Sheila to run all the way home screaming and crying to the top of her lung’s.
Another neighborhood scene, is with our bike club. A group of children would ride bikes together. These bicycle riders were also our yard game soccer ball players. Everytime we played any outside game, Terry always got hurt. So we would tell him prior to the game, “If you cry when you get hurt, do not tell mother, or she will make us all come inside”. Sometimes the kids would resort to holding our hands over Terry’s mouth, to silence him from mother’s ears.
Another memory of Terry was how he could pound his head, just like `Curly`, on the T.V. comedy show, “Three Stooges”. Our friends, the famous bicycle gang, would dare him to hit the brick house, with his head. Which was very entertaining , for our guest.
One day in Section, Alabama we were in 1968, moving to the new house in Dekalb County. Daddy’s doghouse was on top of the truck bed, when Terry decided to climb up on this doghouse. He slipped and fell head first into the metal bumper hitch of the back of the truck. Which resulted in Terry having a huge gushing gash on his head. This would have been when Terry turned five years old. Of course, this head injury was serious. However, since I was a child myself, I kept thinking his tough head is due to all the practice of head butting, we encouraged in the name of entertainment. I resolved myself he was going to be fine.
The most enduring memory was Terry being a thumb sucker. We would jointly as a family coax Terry to stop sucking his thumb, to prevent buck teeth. However, this never worked. No matter how much black pepper, iodine, rubbing alcohol or nasty concoction we mixed together, to soak this thumb in, nothing prevented Terry, from daily thumb sucking.
Also a fond memory about Terry was his love of peanutbutter and jelly sandwiches. He literally lived off of peanutbutter. So much so, that he would start a gag reflux if a green vegetable was hinted at. This of course, started a chain reaction of daddy enforcing green vegetable rules. With mother putting Terry away from the dinner table. Of course, she had already told Terry not to fear, she would return later that night with a `secret` made peanutbutter and jelly sandwich.
Now let us talk about candy. Yes, Terry loved candy. All kinds of sugar based cereals with the fun boxed toy surprises, delighted him. One favorite choice was `Captain Crunch`, cereal.
The next memory is concerning Terry always being the child, who turned over his milk glass. I always prayed , “Lord, please let us eat our food before Terry turns over the milk”. Due to daddy becoming so angry about how often this would happen at dinner time.
By the time Terry was 16, I was 20 years old. And he and brother David had one year previous, 1979, given CPR to daddy, to keep him alive until the ambulance arrived. However, he had a massive heart attack and nothing could save him. From 1979, Terry @15 and David @17 years old, became the men of the household. By the time that Terry had graduated High School he and mother were a team. Terry continues from 1979 until 2008, 29 years later, he is still mowing and weed eating the homeplace. He has provided a continuance of financial, physical and emotional support for our mother. Without Terry, mother would have lost her desire to move forward after daddy’s death.
My brother Terry is a man of God (IHVH). He is a leader in faith at his church and his community.
When this earth passes away, I imagine the meeting Between Terry and daddy, on the new earth. Embraced shoulder to shoulder, man to man, they shall enter the new gates of Jerusalem, with the old flesh man put away, the renewal of father and son will be a celebration long awaited for. Both men will have all negative remembrance thrown into the sea of forgetfulness. Both men will worship our heavenly Father, equal in spirit, resolutions achieved, all `adam` traits relinquenced. My brother Terry is a man our daddy would have honored, to be his son.
I love you, Terry !
Love your sister, forever, Betty `Bit-te` . . .:
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