When I Got Shot

Now don't freak out, the Fabulous Ma'am is safe and sound. I have not fallen victim to road rage or a random drive by at The Galleria. I have been asked by one of my followers about the common occurrence of getting shot . Let me say from the outset, that these were not crimes, just another high point in the life of a Southerner.

 The excitement surrounding a family member who has been shot is without peer. When my little Trixie was a pupil at Pine Valley Country Day School she quickly realized that when kin get shot, your get all the attention. Shots trump any other news. One of her classmates arrived with details of newborn baby sisters. Trixie burst into tears and announced " My Tiny Mama got shot!". Miss Nell, the head mistress, rushed to the tearful tot, and was told the details that  mother was in the hospital and "her got shot". When I arrived a few hours later, nonchalantly, the entire staff met me at the door. Miss Nell appeared, with a sleeping Trixie in her arms. She explained that under the circumstances, she had personally tended to my little one. "How is your mother? Trixie told us she was shot. What on earth has happened to our community when a nice lady like that is shot!" My mouth must have fallen open as I stood in shock. Had my mother been a victim of violence on her way to the Tik Tak? Had the hospital called the school trying to locate me? Soon the wheels started turning and I came to understand what story had been relayed to these poor teachers.  Yes, Tiny Mama was at the hospital. She did get shot.Flu Shot. Hospital Quick Clinic.

My father's  grandchildren proudly share the fact that Big Daddy has a bullet in his leg. They assume it was from olden days when he was a soldier. Not hardly. First of all,he was a little kid during the Big War so it was not a battle wound. Actually, the bullet didn't come from a gun. The real story behind this great myth of Big Daddy is just as weird.The truth is Big Daddy and his crew had the great idea that they could make a bullet blow up by hitting it with a hammer. After listening to Big Daddy talk with his family and childhood friends, it became clear that getting shot in our hometown of Southport during the course of play was not uncommon.  He never taught us any of his childhood games that required firearms, never encouraged us to tease each other with weapons.However, the fact that he was shot while playing seems like a  rather All- American boyhood  happening to him. . He never makes it sound like a dangerous , potentially lethal experience.They were experimenting and learning the logistics of armaments and the volatility of live ordinance. He is a living example of the rules of physics.He does have a bullet in his leg.
I think maybe this type of childhood is why Montessori Schools became so popular. Getting shot was part of country day care.

It should come as no surprise that I was able to find a husband so similar to Big Daddy that he, too, has been shot. Tom Berenger  carries shrapnel in his chest from a shotgun shell. That he hit with a hammer. Deja Vu or what?

Tom B's father was shot during a rabbit hunt with his older cousin ( he was 10, older cousin was 12). Evidently during the excitement of rabbit extermination, the .22 got away from Wayne William and the bullet got Tom Sr. Nobody got crazy, no police were involved, no Live at 5 report. Just no rabbit.

We have a family member who proudly told people " I have shot myself, stabbed, myself, and set myself on fire". All of these, were true.And no, he was not suicidal. Only difference from the rest of the family is he was a grown man. He shot himself in the leg while practicing quick draw on a hunting trip. He stabbed himself on a ski pole, and set himself on fire using lighter fluid on red ants. Like most good tabloid, the headline is much juicier than the full details.

I have been shot .It was when I was a Prisoner of War.  A Nazi as I recall, and my brother accidentally shot me in the finger with a b.b gun. According to the G.I. that pulled the trigger, I was trying to escape. This was clearly against the Geneva Convention, as my cousin G.Walter pointed out, higher authorities had to be informed. G. Walter was all too excited to go straight to the top with this report of open fire on a prisoner. The Commander of Operations would have to be involved. Especially since, for the first time, G.Walter was not the one about to be court martialed.

Sidebar: We played war all the time. This is before the idea that violence at an early age made you a psychopath. Since I was the only girl with all boy cousins, I was always either a Nazi or later, a Viet Cong gorilla. I preferred being a gorilla because then I got to climb trees and attempt Jane (as in Tarzan &Jane) moves on the huge wild grapevines in the woods behind our house. In the days prior to CNN, it was possible for a child to go about life without realizing that guerrillas and gorillas are not the same thing. I digress.

The Commander in Chief of the River Road Theater of Operations was my Granddaddy.  Rather than wait for the Nuremberg Tribunal to judge  my brother on charges of war crimes,  Old Daddy became the Weapon of Mass Destruction and wrapped the Red Ryder around a black walnut tree.  The next day, a new upgraded pellet gun was purchased at the Western Auto.  The NRA would be happy to know Second Amendment rights were not violated.

Times have changed and getting shot just isn't what it used to be. Still, we will always have fond memories of childhood in Carolina.
I remain,
The Fabulous Ma'am