By Gene Henderson © 1987
Issue: January, 1987
The first school I went to was a small school. It was located in North Carolina. The name of the place was Lower Big Pine.
This friend of mine and I were pitching horseshoes on our dinner hour. I had my back turned and didn't see his horseshoe slip when he pitched. It hit me in the back of the head and cut a big hole. We were afraid the teacher would punish him so we went down to the creek and tried washing the blood from my wounded head.
I could have bled to death but the teacher whipped us both for playing in the creek.