By Otis Griffin
Country boys show off sometimes and it just don’t turn out the way it was planned. I had torn the hide off my bony, left arm and dug out a hole big enough to hide a Berkshire sow and some of her litter set up housekeeping also. After ‘Doc’ Flippin glued me back together, I did get to ‘show off’ my sling wrapped around my neck.
As youngsters will do after climbing fool’s hill, I didn’t want Momma to know what I had done. But, as you remember neighbors have a way of communicating very freely. Any time you hear someone start a sentence with, ‘it’s none of my biz’ness, then continue with, but I thought you orta’ know.î Watch out ’cause here it comes. ìIt ain’t none of their biz’ness, and maybe the person don’t need to know.î Did you ever realize some folks can’t even take of their own bizíness, but got time to take care of ‘yores’? Back ‘en and continues today. This caused me to get raked over the red-hot coals. Bad!
Friends, Momma wouldn’t let me ride my stripped down bike for a while, until I could ‘ack-rite’. I had to bare-foot my excursion to Mr. Ben’s store in front of all the self-appointed judges and the jury, which actually consisted of the self-appointed sages and philosophers for some good natured kidding. Now everyone knew exactly what had transpired as far as showing off and having my Titantic wreck. However, each gentleman wanted me to relive the catastrophe. It’s called swallowing yo’ pride, rock gravel, Double Cola bottle caps, and Moon Pie wrappers. Did I learn my lesson?
This entire medical surgery cost “TWO WHOLE DOLLARS” which Momma swapped out with three dozen eggs and a chess pie. But ‘Doc’ Flippin didn’t charge anymore for a checkup days later. To my relief.
Over the years I found out some interesting things about ‘Doc’ that the entire neighborhood took for granted. Sometimes it seems the better a person is, the more he or she is taken advantage of.
When ‘Doc’ Flippin went to meet his maker at age 77, there is no telling how much was, as we say in the illustrious South, (on his books). Little did I realize at the time, ‘Doc’ never, ever turned anyone away, knowing many times he would never get paid in full. All I knew at this early age was that I got hurt and ‘Doc’ fixed me right up.
We were fortunate to have many, many folks to assist the community and the many families that had a rough time. What amazed me was, it didn’t make any difference if a fella’ came in with grease embedded under his nails or a lady with four pounds of makeup splattered all over, the Good Doctor treated everyone medically and everyone the same, personally.
It is a shame we wait until a person is gone, to recognize them for their good deeds. Why don’t we do it while they are still alive and can enjoy a little bragging? For all these years the biggest salute to the Doctor is the driveway leading up to his office is still in the same location. No one seems to know the person responsible for hauling in a load of fresh gravel ever so often. Makes you wonder? Possibly hainted?
Although the building at my tender young age appeared to be bigger than a barn, actually it was comparatively small. Ann Leek told me she had seen the waiting room wall to wall and folks hovered around the Warm Morning coal stove in the center of the floor. His doctoring office was in the back room, but sometimes he would forget to close the door completely. Not only was the Doctor a genius in medicine, but psychology as well. That was one thing that is remembered for each visit, that he made you comfortable. Do you suppose some of the aches and pains were in the noggin also? Just a thought!
Would Blessed be a Better Word than Fortunate? — GLORY!
By Otis Griffin