Thanksgiving Day - November 16, 1962

Today is a day that will always be very special to me. It was the day I was picked up, along with my two sisters and brother.

Ronald Hutchinson, my birth father, died four years earlier in a one car accident, a few days before Christmas. Beverly, my birth mother had physiological and physical problems. had given us to her sister, Aunt Betty. Aunt Betty was an alcoholic which led to her death. When she died the cycle of being an orphan began once again. What would you do with four kids, living in essence by ourselves. Today, CPS would receive the call.

The woman who lived across the street along with my older cousin Pat, decided to call churches to see if anyone wanted four children, all under the age of seven. I don't know how many churches were called, but the connection was made when she called the Eastridge Church of Christ. That evening, the four of us were picked up by Ed and Otta Mae Barnett. Otta Mae was the church secretary who literally answered the call.

When they picked us up the evening of November 16, 1962, it seemed very normal. Since I was three years old I had been in and out of orphan homes, foster care, and lived with our aunt, which is now often referred to as "kinship care." This seemed like what kids did in our situation. Somebody died or left you, then someone else picked you up.

A 1962 Red Impala and food were the two things I remember most from that night. Previous to this, food became a very important commodity. Off and on for about four years, food would become scarce. Often my older sister and I would become scavengers, looking for something to eat. One time in Houston, CPS was called because we were going into neighbor's homes, looking for food. This was one of the reasons my birth mother was about to lose custody of us. CPS warned her that she was going to lose custody. She talked them into allowing her sister, my Aunt Betty to become our guardian. Guardian is a word that I learned when I went to first grade and had to have forms signed. Before the Barnett's picked us up, Aunt Betty was not well enough to care for us, so we were again scavenging for food.

Death is a catalyst for change. Aunt Betty died, then Barnett's picked us up, took us home and fed us. They always had plenty of food! The Barnett's had three older girls, two of them were still living at home. They remarked how amazed they were when they watched us eat. Apparently we ate as if this was going to be our last meal.

What kind of woman would take four abused, abandoned and neglected children into her home, without much knowledge of their past, and already had two teenage daughters at home and one daughter who recently married? A certain Patsy Cline song does come to mind; however, I believe it was a woman with a heart of compassion!

That one event changed the course of my life. Life from that point on was definitely not a bowl of cherries. That was during a time before trauma and attactment issues were common concerns in such situations. However, four siblings stayed together, were cared for, and given another chance in life.

Over the years, I always thought that my Mom deserved an award. I guess my life in some way has been a reward for her. I am a Christian, have a great wife of 25 years (November 21) and three wonderful children, all of whom are Christians. It is possible that this would never have happened if it wasn't for the love and compassion of Otta Mae Barnett! So in my heart, when I think about what happened forty-four years ago, my thoughts and Thanksgiving goes to my Mom!