nervous breakdown due partly to the sudden death of her husband and the induction into the Army of her son, Ronald,” he wrote. “The purpose of this letter is to inform you of the above circumstances and if possible to work some solution out in which Private Burke can be discharged to support his mother and sister.”
Ronnie’s support was needed because Velma’s drug swings had been interfering with her work. At Jennings’ request, Velma had quit her job during their marriage, but now she was back at Belk’s. Frequently, though, she was unable to go in because she took too many pills. And her doctor and drug bills continued to grow. In late July, she borrowed $800 from a Fayetteville bank to pay some of them.
In August Velma called the Robeson County Sheriff’s Department to report a break-in at her house. Alf Parnell investigated. He found the screen cut on the window of Ronnie’s bedroom, the window open, a pane broken. Ronnie’s room was in disarray. Velma told Parnell that five $100 bills—part of the money she had borrowed—had been stolen from beneath the mattress in Ronnie’s room. Some of Ronnie’s clothing and shoes also were missing, she said. No charges would ever come from the report, but Velma filed for homeowner’s insurance.
Ronnie heard about this by telephone, as he was hearing of all of his mother’s problems, but it would be many years before he realized that she likely was staging such events not only to get money but to bring him back to her. This time she was even more insistent that he try to get out of the Army and return home. Ronnie thought his chances of getting a hardship discharge unlikely but promised to try again.
By fall, Velma’s performance at work had grown so bad that her boss, D. N. Geddie, removed her from contact with customers, with whom she frequently was testy and argumentative. But Geddie was sympathetic to Velma, and instead of firing her, he reassigned her to the stockroom, marking prices.
Pam, meanwhile, had been unable to find a job since graduation. On Thursday, October 14, Velma planned to take her to put in applications at several businesses before going to work. Velma lingered inside after Pam had gone to the car, but Pam thought nothing about it at the time.
When they returned a couple of hours later, they found fire trucks at the house and firefighters cleaning up inside. Pam could not believe it. A third fire in just two and a half years. Surely, this house was cursed. Velma went to pieces, Pam would later recall, and neither she nor anybody else could console her.
Later, when Velma called Ronnie to tell him what happened, she begged, “Can’t you come home? My nerves are just completely tore up.”
Ronnie applied for emergency leave, and two days later he arrived to his mother’s welcome embrace. Velma and Pam had once again moved in with Murphy and Lillie, but things were not well there either.
During the summer Murphy had come down with laryngitis that wouldn’t go away. He had reluctantly gone to a doctor, who had given him antibiotics and throat spray. Still, he had been slow to recover, and even after the laryngitis passed, he had trouble swallowing and developed breathing problems and pains in his chest and right side. Doctors were uncertain about his problem, but for most of his adult life Murphy had smoked unfiltered cigarettes. He checked into a hospital for tests that fall and was told that his problems were due to angina. While Ronnie was at home, though, Murphy rallied. Velma was not rebounding, however, despite Ronnie’s presence and his promise to press for a hardship discharge. While he was home, he began collecting the necessary paperwork for the discharge: letters from his mother, his grandparents, her doctors; death certificates for his father and stepfather.
His efforts became even more urgent after D. N. Geddie called to tell him that he was going to have to let Velma go. She was out of work too often, sometimes unable
Ronnie’s support was needed because Velma’s drug swings had been interfering with her work. At Jennings’ request, Velma had quit her job during their marriage, but now she was back at Belk’s. Frequently, though, she was unable to go in because she took too many pills. And her doctor and drug bills continued to grow. In late July, she borrowed $800 from a Fayetteville bank to pay some of them.
In August Velma called the Robeson County Sheriff’s Department to report a break-in at her house. Alf Parnell investigated. He found the screen cut on the window of Ronnie’s bedroom, the window open, a pane broken. Ronnie’s room was in disarray. Velma told Parnell that five $100 bills—part of the money she had borrowed—had been stolen from beneath the mattress in Ronnie’s room. Some of Ronnie’s clothing and shoes also were missing, she said. No charges would ever come from the report, but Velma filed for homeowner’s insurance.
Ronnie heard about this by telephone, as he was hearing of all of his mother’s problems, but it would be many years before he realized that she likely was staging such events not only to get money but to bring him back to her. This time she was even more insistent that he try to get out of the Army and return home. Ronnie thought his chances of getting a hardship discharge unlikely but promised to try again.
By fall, Velma’s performance at work had grown so bad that her boss, D. N. Geddie, removed her from contact with customers, with whom she frequently was testy and argumentative. But Geddie was sympathetic to Velma, and instead of firing her, he reassigned her to the stockroom, marking prices.
Pam, meanwhile, had been unable to find a job since graduation. On Thursday, October 14, Velma planned to take her to put in applications at several businesses before going to work. Velma lingered inside after Pam had gone to the car, but Pam thought nothing about it at the time.
When they returned a couple of hours later, they found fire trucks at the house and firefighters cleaning up inside. Pam could not believe it. A third fire in just two and a half years. Surely, this house was cursed. Velma went to pieces, Pam would later recall, and neither she nor anybody else could console her.
Later, when Velma called Ronnie to tell him what happened, she begged, “Can’t you come home? My nerves are just completely tore up.”
Ronnie applied for emergency leave, and two days later he arrived to his mother’s welcome embrace. Velma and Pam had once again moved in with Murphy and Lillie, but things were not well there either.
During the summer Murphy had come down with laryngitis that wouldn’t go away. He had reluctantly gone to a doctor, who had given him antibiotics and throat spray. Still, he had been slow to recover, and even after the laryngitis passed, he had trouble swallowing and developed breathing problems and pains in his chest and right side. Doctors were uncertain about his problem, but for most of his adult life Murphy had smoked unfiltered cigarettes. He checked into a hospital for tests that fall and was told that his problems were due to angina. While Ronnie was at home, though, Murphy rallied. Velma was not rebounding, however, despite Ronnie’s presence and his promise to press for a hardship discharge. While he was home, he began collecting the necessary paperwork for the discharge: letters from his mother, his grandparents, her doctors; death certificates for his father and stepfather.
His efforts became even more urgent after D. N. Geddie called to tell him that he was going to have to let Velma go. She was out of work too often, sometimes unable
Similar Books
