Where I’m Coming From

“Where I’m Coming From: My Life in Verse,” is a chronological anthology of the author’s life. The author has written forty-six poems, mostly in free verse and rhyme. He also realizes in some cases he has written similar things in other books in a different genre, but writing professors usually say always write about what you know. Whatever the genre, in most of his books he has followed his progress from his home in East Texas, through high school, through college, to the military (in the military he spent time in Great Lakes, Illinois; Chelsea, Massachusetts; and Orlando, Florida), back to graduate school, and ending up in a South Suburb of Chicago. The author was born and raised in a small rural East Texas town called Hallsville. He spent most of his time doing chores on the farm. He had little time for sports, recreation, or reading. He did get a break during a few summers in his early years: he spent several weeks with his father on the Gulf Coast. His father worked on the coast and came home only several times a month for the weekends. He attended a small, segregated school that was inadequate for developing one for competition in the mainstream. The town had a population of 1,295. He didn’t believe they seriously considered the Black population. The author existed at the end of a three-mile trail until he entered first grade. They then constructed a dirt road. Before the road, he had to walk to the end of the trail to catch the bus. When the road was constructed, the bus picked him up at his front door. They finally blacktopped the road many years later. The family was 300 miles from Houston (1,000,000), 135 miles from Dallas (1,000,000), 45 miles from Shreveport (200,000), 20 miles from Marshall (45,000), 20 miles from the city proper of Hallsville (1,295), 30 miles from Longview (100,000), 40 miles from Kilgore (40,000), 60 miles from Tyler (60,000), 7 miles from Harleton (1,000), and 15 miles from Jefferson (3,000). The house he lived in was about to fall from its rock foundation. It was inundated with rats, and a cold wind could be felt coming through the cracks in wintertime. The house leaked through the rusty-tin roof when it rained. It was a shotgun shack. Animals ran through the yard: chickens, ducks, guinea fowls, pigs, and dogs. The house was not painted for a long time, but eventually his father painted it. Just to get around the author had a lot of miles to cover. His brother started teaching him how to drive when he was eleven years of age. He could barely see outside the windshield. In addition, it was a 1951 standard-shift Chevrolet. But he quickly caught on and was soon driving where he wanted to go. His brother moved to the Gulf Coast. The author would even transport his mother and father on various occasions. It was the only form of transportation they had besides a horse and wagon. The car was just sitting there most of the time, so, his oldest brother purchased the car from his other brother for his two children who were a few years younger than the author. About a year later the author got his driver’s license. His brother who left the Chevrolet felt sorry for the author being way out in the country without transportation. So, he gave the author his old car. It was a 1959 Chevrolet Impala. It was black with a white stripe down the sides, moon hubcaps, red and white interior, a 327 engine that purred like a kitten, dummy-tear-drop fog lights, new tires, and bubble-plastic covering the seats. His father retired and soon the author was able to get a check from Social Security. So, he had money and transportation. His father also purchased a truck to use for peddling produce to people in the city. Before that he got around the best way he knew how. And prior to getting the check, some days he went to school without lunch money. His brother did help him a great deal and kept him supplied with parts for his car. He stumbled, bumbled, and fumbled along in school. No teacher paid him much attention, and he had a speech impediment, for which there was no speech pathologist. The school didn’t have a speech course, fundamentals of music, dance, physical education, or art. The school also ran on a shoestring budget, and only existed on the barest essentials. He made it through elementary, junior high, and high school. He graduated and went to college. He was on his way. After three- and one-half years he graduated with a “B” average, and a major in sociology. He had no stable place to go, so he decided to join the Navy. He didn’t have a car and there was no way to get around in the country. At the time he couldn’t see living with any of his relatives. He spent a year in the Navy and received a medical discharge. After discharge from the Navy, he first got a master’s degree in educational counseling, then got a master’s degree in social work. He got a job offer in a South Suburb of Chicago. He has been in the South Suburbs of Chicago for the past forty-eight years. He first moved into an apartment. He is presently in his second home. Has raised two sons and helped send them to college. He is still married, has two cars, and is retired. Everybody has their own idea of what poetry is and their own way of writing and expressing it. One can gain certain knowledge but can only express himself in a particular way at a certain point in time. Check out this and other of his books @ www.willisjay.com, by Jay Thomas Willis. Jay Thomas Willis Richton Park, Illinois