Lost in the split..... My brother, Ronnie

While growing up with my brother, Ronnie, we were typical siblings. We fought like crazy, but would fight to the death to protect one another. And although he would get into normal boy mischief, he was a good kid. When I say normal boy mischief, I mean getting into trouble for not listening to my mother or father, or not doing his chores, etc.

Looking back, I think that the worst thing that he ever did was when he stole a pack of cigarettes from my father’s carton. Then, one night while our parents were away, he brought it out and together we took one cigarette out of the pack and lit it up. We really did not know how to inhale, but, together we “smoked” it and then hid the rest of the pack, behind the refrigerator.

Well, wouldn’t you know that over the weekend, my mother decided that it was time to clean under the refrigerator? Low and behold, when she pulled it out, the pack of cigarettes with one missing, fell down. She started screaming for us to get into the kitchen and when we admitted to her that we had smoked the one that was missing, we were in trouble. My mother grabbed the flyswatter and spanked us both.

And let me just say that if you have never been swatted with a flyswatter before, count yourself lucky. It hurts!

That was all it took for me, I never tried it again. As for Ronnie, he did it again and this time my father caught him and made him eat some cigarettes.

That took care of him until…….. the big split up and my father took him from my mother. As I said, he did not want him; he just wanted to get back at my mother. So, he started letting Ronnie smoke, swear, skip school, pretty much do whatever he pleased.

Moving back to Orlando was a happy time for me. I was eager to be closer to my sisters and was glad to get away from the troubles with my aunt in Jacksonville. My cousins (or step-brothers) and I were enrolled in Milwee Middle School.

All went well for awhile; I had made new friends and liked the school. But, one day while switching classes, I noticed some kids “dragging” this kid around. He was completely stoned and when I got closer, I saw his face. Nothing could have prepared me for what I saw. It was Ronnie! I did not want anyone to know that he was my brother, so I literally dove into the lockers to hide my face. From that day, I did everything possible to keep away from him. Everyday was the same; he would be so stoned that he could not walk. How he was able to remain at school is beyond me.

I knew that it would happen eventually; one day they came into the lunchroom and he spotted me. That day was a good day for him, he wasn’t near as stoned. However, for me it meant that my secret was out. I quickly got up and went outside, only to be followed by him. I told him that I was ashamed of him and that he needed to get his self straightened out and until he did, I didn’t want him hanging around Alvie, Billy or me. My friends seemed to understand and did not “shun” me from our circle of friends.

Shortly after that, he went to live with his biological mother, Marie. She had married and had a son and was trying to turn her life around. She had been out of the picture pretty much his whole life. A few times when we were little, we would go and meet her so that she could see Ronnie. He always called her Marie and my mother was mama. And Marie was fine with that. She always admired my mother and later on in life they became good friends.

However, she worked in a bar and although I never saw her drink, she hung out with men who did. And for that reason, my father did not allow her to take him for any period of time.

I might have said a lot of bad things about my father, but, one thing good about him was that he never allowed drinking and swearing around us. He never drank except for Christmas and New Years. We always had family parties so he would have a social drink. However, I never saw him drink too much.

Boy, did I do it? Did I just pay him a compliment? I guess so, but believe me; they will be far and in-between!

So, I pretty much blame my father for Ronnie “going bad”. Ronnie grew up hating our father; he hated everything about him! But, the sad thing is, he turned out just like him. If you can imagine, he turned out worse.

At least our father was a hard worker and brought money into the household to keep a roof over our heads. Sometimes we had no food in our house, but we were not homeless. The empty cupboards were not because he had no money, he just would give my mother 20.00 for groceries and expect it to last a few weeks. So, she always seemed to get by with beans and potatoes. And at the time, we did not know any different. We were kids and our bellies were full. We were lucky, not all kids are that fortunate!