It was 1967 when I was first offered drugs. I remember saying to the kid offering the drug to me (he called it a “Christmas Tree”), “Why would I put anything in my mouth and swallow it when I don’t even know who you are?” Then I proceeded to give him some wise advice, “Best you get away from me before I break your nose”. I was never offered drugs again, but later that night I did see one of his customer hopping down the middle of a busy street croaking like a frog.
Since that time in 1967, an epidemic has swept over our America that I still don’t understand – an epidemic of drug abuse – so serious that some actually think that our best solution is to make drugs legal – to date, 23 of our U.S. states have legalized the use of marijuana.
So, those of you who are not riding in your own “yellow submarine” or in a “purple haze”, remember with me the drugs we had to deal with growing up in the 50’s and 60’s – yeah, I was’drugged” alright – I had a real “drug” problem:
I was drug to church on Sunday morning.
I was drug to church for weddings and funerals.
I was drug to family reunions and community socials no matter the weather.
I was drug by my ears when I was disrespectful to adults.
I was drug to the woodshed when:
I disobeyed my parents,
told a lie,
brought home a bad report card,
did not speak with respect,
spoke ill of the teacher or the preacher, or
if I didn’t put forth my best effort in everything that was asked of me.
I was drug to the kitchen sink to have my mouth washed out with soap if I uttered a profanity.
I was drug out to pull weeds in mom’s garden and flower beds, and cockleburrs out of dad’s fields.
I was drug to the homes of family, friends, and neighbors to help out some poor soul who had no one to:
mow the yard,
repair the clothesline, or
chop some firewood;
And, if my mother had ever known that I took a single dime as a tip for this kindness, she would have drug me back to the woodshed.
Those drugs are still in my veins and they affect my behavior in everything I do, say, or think – still, even today.
They are stronger than cocaine, crack, or heroin; and, if today’s children had this kind of drug problem, America would be a better place.
God bless the parents who drugged us.
Jerry Stewart