Vendor Writing

Gone But NEVER Forgotten

BY NORMA B., FORMER CONTRIBUTOR VENDOR

I’ve ALWAYS said selling the paper ISN’T just about the money, it’s about the connections you make with the people you meet.

That being said, when you lose even one of those who regularly support you, stop to check on you just to make sure you’re ok, or to see what they can do to help, it’s like a part of you is missing.

With the passage of time I’ve had customers who have died and others who have moved away. That’s to be expected I suppose, but it hurts even more when their departure could have been prevented.

One example of this is Chris and Marci. They would regularly visit me on the weekend.

We learned A LOT about each other with each visit because they made the time to stop and chat when they were out and about. Once, when they knew I was having a particularly hard time, they blessed me with a gift that truly made my day — maybe even my week. All I can say is it is SO like them to do something like that!

Don’t get me wrong, I knew they were a amazing couple long before that.

Chris gives off a ZZ Top vibe. I think it’s the beard. He says Marci won’t let him cut it.

On one of their recent visits as we talked I discovered that Chris has another love in addition to Marci: Old Chevy trucks.

As a 1965 model Chevy C-10 went by on a tow truck, he was mesmerized by it, totally forgetting we were in the middle of a conversation.

When the light changed the spell was suddenly broken, and he came to his senses. He apologized saying that was his "dream truck."

Turns out he already has a 2009 Chevy Silverado on air tires that inflate/deflate with the touch of a button. They brought it by on their last visit so I could check it out.

I must say it’s pretty cool. I’d NEVER seen ANYTHING like that before.

So why did they leave the area? An area they loved.

They were tired of renting and wanted to buy a home, but with the skyrocketing prices in Nashville and the surrounding areas, it was virtually impossible.

In July, rather than renew the lease on their apartment and after a diligent search they found their new home, in Florence, Alabama where the cost of living is much cheaper.

They were able to keep their jobs simply transferring to a location near their new residence.

I’m thrilled that with the move they were finally able to achieve their dream of owning a home, but I also know that they loved it here too, and if they’d had a similar opportunity to purchase a home here they would’ve never left.

Let that be a lesson to those who are determined to continue building our area up. Ask yourselves: What good is it if prices are SO high that regular hard working people can’t afford to live here?

On a positive note, they have sent me their new address so we can keep in touch. As a result, I’m pretty sure they’ll stay up-to-date on all the latest and greatest news in The Contributor!

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My Story

BY MICHAEL “BIDDY” W.

In the early days of the month of January, 2023, I overdosed on heroin. All I remember from that fateful day was waking up to find myself laying in the dirt, so weak that I could not stand with only my arms to help drag me through the ground towards the tent of somebody who I believed was my friend. Only to hear when I asked for help to go away. So away I went. Dragging myself once again through the dirt towards my tent where there I lay crying out for help to no avail.

Finally as the minutes passed I faded off into the darkness and quietly began to die. The hours passed and the day carried on and finally sometime after the sun went down the paramedics came and restored me to life at which point I awoke to find myself laying on a gurney fighting against the very ones who cared enough to save me and then faded back into the dark. The nurses told me that during my time in the hospital, I died twice. The second time I was considered clinically dead, the doctors placed me on a breathing machine that helped me breathe. My lungs were so weak that I was unable to do so on my own.

The tracheotomy and the sickness in my stomach really did a number on me. One, I was unable to hold any food down. Two, I was unable to actually eat and swallow due to the weakness of the muscles in my throat after the tracheotomy. Eventually the last of what was left of my weight and strength began to wither away and I was no longer able to walk.

Two weeks after I went into the coma I finally woke up. I do not know if I woke up on my own or was brought out of it with medicine. All I know is that I woke up. Not long after which the doctors and nurses provided me with an IV specific to administering liquid food to the blood stream and began the process necessary for me to receive a supplementary form of nourishment by which I was able to receive the vitamins, minerals and proteins that my body needed to survive.

And so began my recovery and for the next month and a half. There I remained, participating in speech therapy as I could no longer talk, swallow tests and therapy to help strengthen my throat muscles and physical therapy to help me walk again. Eventually I was finally able to eat again and was strong enough to use a walker as I was still so weak I could not walk on my own.

By the time I was able to eat again and move around a bit, I was ready for discharge and the hospital let me go, at which point I went back to the drug ridden camp in which I met my earlier demise, eventually resulting in using yet again. Not long after that, I overdosed again for the last time. Called a dear friend of mine and finally was able to get the help I needed and begin turning my life around.

Now as of today by the grace of the most high I am a little over a year clean, have a job, a place to live, a new family and now I’m a welding student at Lincoln Tech. And will be graduating May 26th, of this year. Thank you Tri Star Summit, thank you Neighborhood Health, thank you Darrin Bradbury and most of all thank you Most High Creator for giving me new life and raising me up from the grave.