Born on the Fourth of July
This is one of those stories that was told to me down through the years as I was growing up. I have searched all the evidence that was given to me and came to the conclusion that it must be true. I will try to tell it to you and let you decide if it is fact or fiction.
In the Depression years there was no work, so most people lived on farms and grew their food. What was left over was traded for other kinds of goods that kept the body going.
This took place in Bartow County, Kingston, Georgia. Where the old schoolhouse now sits, there was a house, and between there and the town on both sides of the road the land was farmed by my father, Landum B. Adcock.
At that time Landum had his wife and three little girls to feed, so it was early to bed and early to rise to keep the family fed. The three girls were Zonie, Lillie and Gracy. They would tell me this and would not have a smile on their faces, so it must have been true.
My father had gone to the field early that morning to see what needed to be done to his crop. I was told what was needed was rain, for this was one of those hot July days. My father was in the field, and the girls were in the yard, playing, when my mother came to the door and hollered for them to come inside.
It scared them for their mother seemed to be hurting and had lain down on the bed. She told Zonie, “Run down to town and get Doctor Burton and tell him to hurry. You, Lillie, go down to the field and get your father. Hurry now!” she said, and the girls ran out the door. Gracy, who was just a baby, began to cry, for she thought her mother was going to die. Mother soon got her calmed down, and she sat by the bed, holding her hand.
Doctor Burton had an old Ford car, so it didn’t take him just a few minutes, and he was pulling into the yard with Zonie hurrying him into the house. Lillie and my father were close behind them.
This is the part I will leave up to you to judge whether it is fact or fiction.
Doctor Burton ran the girls out onto the porch, telling them their mother was going to be all right. They told me they would peep down the hallway, but all they could see was a little black bag that the doctor had brought with him. Then, to their surprise, he reached and got the bag and put it out of sight. They tried to imagine what he had in in that little black bag.
Their father came out and went to the kitchen and brought a big pan of water and carried it into the room. Then, to the surprise of the girls, they heard a baby cry. They would laugh and say they thought that was impossible for there were no babies around. Then they heard it again. It was a baby crying.
Zonie then whispered he had a baby in that black bag. When they were told they could come in and see their little brother, they knew exactly where it had come from. The doctor carried a baby around in his black bag.
The way it was told to me was that when they went inside, the baby was on the bed with their mother, and the black bag sat on the floor, empty.
Picking up the bag and smiling at them, the doctor left. Without a doubt the baby had been in the bag, but back then everyone knew storks brought babies and dropped them down the chimney to people who wanted them. The fireplace was closed off for the summer, so the stork must have given him to the doctor to bring to them. The stork had been lazy and fell down on his job, or the doctor just happened to have a spare.
I came into this world on July the Fourth, 1930. The evidence is in, you be the judge — fact or fiction.