Two boys, standing outside in the warm sunny morning playing and we weren’t sure what we wanted to do. That darn bull was still in the pasture, and therefore we couldn’t play in the alpha alpha, and that upset us very much.

In fact, we had even tried a few times to crawl under the fence, and run into the field and entice the bull to come us, just to make him made. That got us in trouble with mom one to many times, and we learned real fast not to do that anymore.

Mom came out, and informed us she had a job for us to do. “I want to dig a flower bed in the front yard. Why don’t you two start digging up the ground and make it soft. You can do that. You two like to dig holes. You dig up everything else.”

“Okay mom, we can handle that,” and she handled us some small garden variety type digging utensils to us. “But that wasn’t good enough for us. “Hey, in the garage dad has a shovel and a hoe, let’s get them and use them to dig up this ground,.” and away we ran.

Soon, we were hard at work digging the ground and moving right along with the job at hand. But after awhile things began to change.

“I want to use the shovel for a while.”

“I don’t care what you want. I have the shovel and I am not giving it up.”

“Why? I have used the hoe all this time, and I think we should swap every now and then. That’s only fair.”

“I don’t wanna swap,” and I turned my back on my brother.

Harold stood up, and looked at me, and the longer he watched me the madder he got. Then he raised the hoe over his head. He hesitated, then he let that hoe fly, and it came down on the back of my head, just to the left of the crown, and it buried in my head.

Thud, I hit the ground. Smack, my face kissed the earth. My brother stood there looking at his handy work he had accomplish, and considered what he should do next.

Just about that time, our mom walks outside, and she sees me laying face down in the hole, with the hoe buried in my head, and my brother still holding the end of this hoe.

“HAROLD! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE.” By the time I came to I was in the bathroom and my mom was trying to stop the bleeding. The pile of towels continued to grow over time.

The funny thing … we lived in the country, and at that time, my mom couldn’t drive, had never learned and my dad was TDY. She had a car, but didn’t know how to drive it. Well real quick she decided to had to learn, and she piled my brother and I in the car and took off to the the base, and to the hospital.

The time she is trying to stop the bleeding, my brother is sticking his head in the bathroom to see how I am doing, an our mom is tell him, “Wait till I get my hands on you boy.”

By the time we arrived at the hospital it had been over two hours. The doctor cleaned the cut and told me I would be okay. But because of the time he would not put any stitches in it. He listen to my brother and I tell the story, and he laughed about it.

That evening mom called dad and told him all about the incident, and as soon as our dad got home he taught our mom how to drive and she got her drivers license. I guess it wasn’t a total loss.

After that incident, they were careful what they gave us to use when it came to tools.