LIFE LESSONS — NEVER GIVE UP!
No Matter What Misery Life Hands You, Handle It — My Story
I was asked to write a short story about my ascent from poverty that would be a part of a book written by several that had come from poverty to make their way in the world, this is my story.
It’s hard to beat a person who never gives up. — George Herman “Babe” Ruth
I was asked to write a short story about my ascent from poverty that would be a part of a book written by several that had come from poverty to make their way in the world, this is my story.
No matter what misery life hands you, handle it! Never give up, for you never know what lies around the corner.
I was born in a one-room, converted garage in West Old Town, Maine. My nana, as we called my grandmother on my mother’s side, brought me into the world.
My father, Angus Fraser Dalton, was a Korean War Veteran who contracted TB during the war. Although he survived the disease, my oldest brother, Angus Jr., did not.
That left my mother with five children when my father was killed in a car accident when my youngest brother was around two years old.
Both my father’s disability compensation and my mother’s widow’s pension from Social Security came to less than $100 per month. Even in the early ’60s, that was not enough to provide much more than the basic necessities for five children.
That converted garage with its oil-stain concrete floor was our home for nearly five years. The uninsulated walls didn’t offer much to stave off Maine’s freezing-cold winter.
All we had to keep us warm was a small woodstove and our mother’s love. If you got more than four feet away from the woodstove, you lost that heat. The stove’s radiation lost its battle with the frost that lined the uninsulated walls and windows.
Too Late for Church
A missed trip to Sunday School with my grandparents was one of my earliest memories. It was a sunny, warm morning in early spring when the flowers were just starting to bloom. The birds had returned from their southern vacation and were chirping in the apple blossoms that lined the old stone fence.
I don’t remember if it was my mother or my oldest sister, Cindy who dressed me in my Sunday best suit; it was actually my only suit.
My mom didn’t have much, but she made sure we had clean clothes for school and church, even if most were my older brother’s before they were mine, and my younger brother would likely get some wear out of those after I outgrew them.
We knew to change out of our “good clothes” after church or school and put on our play clothes.
I really don’t remember why I was late or if grandparents left early. I do remember sitting there on the steps, my eyes filled with tears, and watching the birds fluttering around. The cows swished their tails and chewed the green grass. Besides being left behind, it was a beautiful day.
I loved going to church with nana and grampie. I loved hearing the Bible stories of baby Jesus, Moses, and Joseph’s “Coat of Many Colors.” Whatever your beliefs, I believe those stories and the things I learned in church set the stage for the man I am today.
Later that day, my nana brought me a bowl of her bread pudding with canned evaporated milk on top. She apologized for leaving me behind, but I was happy with the bread pudding, nothing else mattered.
Growing up in Maine, twenty miles from town, with no car, and not much money didn’t offer many treats. A bowl of my nana’s bread pudding was one of the best things I could imagine as a young boy.
Was this My Enlightenment?
I’m quite sure that day started me on a path of enlightenment, even as a young boy. I learned that while there will always be disappointments in life, if you keep your chin up, with a positive attitude, there just might be some bread pudding in it for you.
The US Army
My real-life bread pudding was the US Army. My mother remarried when I was seven, and although my stepfather was a kind man when he was sober, he wasn’t very often.
Sparing the rod was not part of his repertoire, and he often took out his frustrations on my mother or us. I witnessed many knockdown, drag-out fights between the two of them.
My mother was a very strong-willed woman, who was not averse to using a cast-iron skillet to even up the odds between him and her.
One day, a few months before my graduation, we were sitting at the kitchen table. I brought up the subject of college. Although my mom smiled and bobbed her head up and down encouragingly, my stepfather said, “What the fuck are you talking about college for? There isn’t any money for college. You better go in the Army and make a man of yourself.”
So, that’s exactly what I did. Four of my friends and I joined the Army together under the delayed-entry, buddy-system program. All of us entered the Army as Private E-2 or PV2, one grade higher due to us recruiting each other. If you referred two friends, you received the bonus.
Needless to say, the Army and I were an excellent fit. While stationed in Korea in ’86, I met and married a Korean woman.
I then started the Army Tuition Assistance (TA) Program to get the college education I had long desired. I took college courses on nights and weekends for 11 years to get my Bachelor of Arts in Journalism.
I received my degree in Heidelberg, Germany, with my daughter in attendance. We were stationed at Supreme Headquarters Allied Powers Europe (SHAPE), Belgium, at the time. My thirteen-year-old daughter went with me while my wife stayed with my son at Ramstein Airbase. He participated in the European Youth Bowling Association Championship.
It’s a five-hour drive from SHAPE to Ramstein, and another one-hour drive to Heidelberg, so the logistics of the trip were incredible but exhilarating!
On to The Next Chapter
In November ’07, I retired from the Army as a First Sergeant with 28 years of combined Federal Service. My wife and I had separated the year before.
In March of ’10, I moved to the Philippines to attend Informatics International College and be with my fiancée, Rosalyn. I decide to pursue a second degree in Information Technology. I started a second career as a freelance writer while attending school.
Despite the hardship early in my life, I raised two great children that I am incredibly proud of. They are both English Second Language (ESL) teachers in Korea, and I see them as often as possible. They have both been here and I go there at least twice a year.
I am forever thankful that the Army offered me a means of escape and an excellent career.
Conclusion
Regardless of your current situation, always look for your bread pudding, your means to a rewarding and fulfilling life.
It doesn’t have to be the Army, or another branch of Service, although that’s by no means a wrong choice. There are excellent opportunities at community colleges, tech or vocational schools, information technology, or on-the-job-training in many technical specialties. Many have found fame and fortune on the internet or web-based businesses that don’t cost a lot to get started.
Find your desire and pursue it vigorously!
If you’re interested in reading the rest of the stories in Escaping Poverty, the book is available on Amazon.
Escaping Poverty Introduction:
“Despite living in one of the wealthiest countries in the world, more than 45 million people in America fall below the poverty line. Struggling to make ends meet, these individuals are familiar faces. You see them on the street, in the news, on TV, outside your house, on your way to work… They are your neighbors, coworkers, friends, acquaintances, and possibly even family. You may have even experienced a similar situation.
This book is for you. Escaping Poverty is a collection of stories from those who have felt what it is like to be one of the ‘have-nots’ and are still trying to make it in America. They have not given up on their dreams. Nor should you. Some share how they were able to rise from abject poverty to become self-made millionaires. Others relate their daily struggles as they try to blend in with the ‘middle class’ hiding the ‘secret’ of their financial hardship. Still, others escaped life on the streets from drug-addiction. Each person has a unique story to tell about their journey. Escaping Poverty is a truly worthwhile read about a subject to which many can relate.”
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Stephen Dalton is a retired US Army First Sergeant with a degree in journalism from the University of Maryland and a Certified US English Chicago Manual of Style Editor. Medium Top Writer in Travel, Fiction, Transportation, VR, NFL, Design, Creativity, and Short Story.
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