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The Newberry Sun, Newberry, S. C., Thurs., Dec. 25, 1969—SEC. C, PAGE 9 Now, me, I never really be longed to a church as a kid. I grew up in the mountains, some forty miles from the nearest road. I never knew any parents, only Uncle Bo^ . who raised me. He told me, when I was near grown, that he wasn’t even my real uncle. He had just adopted me, on his own, when my parents, who lived nearby, were drowned in a flash flood. The way he told it, I just came floating down the creek on a rooftop, lashed to the chimney with a piece of baling wire. Uncle Bo never went to church, either. But, he was a good man. He read his Bible eveiy night. He taught me to read and to write and, when I was just a youngster, he turned the Bible reading over, to me. He’d sit and whittle, or just rock back and forth, listening to every word. We observed all the holi days. Easter and Christmas were special times. We always had a big meal on these days and Uncle Bo would read the proper pages from the good book and deliver, just for me, his own version of how Jesus was born and how and why he died. I was seventeen when the sickness got to Uncle Bo so bad he couldn’t even get out of the bed. I wanted to try to get him down the mountain to see a doctor, but he wouldn’t have any part of it. He lived and suffered almost two years and then one Christ mas Eve, while I was reading to him from the Good Book, he breathed a deep sigh and was gone. I was sad, of course, but I felt the Lord had wanted to give the old iran some re lief. I left the mountain, come spring, and found another home in the Army. I guess I didn’t know how to make friends, never having had any but Uncle Bo. Jack Harper apparently didn’t want friends. At least he gave this impression. I just wonder if he didn’t have any because he was so ornery and so against everything. Jack and I met in boot camp, but we never be came friends until we wound up in the same squad in Viet nam. I guess when men share danger, an invisible bond must be formed, even if they have little in common. Jack and I argued about everything —religion, girls, baseball, brotherhood. You name it, and Jack would be on one side of the fence. I would be on the other. Take Christmas, for ex ample. Jack didn’t believe in anything related to' religion. Christmas was, in his opinion, nothing more than a com- merical holiday. Tell kids they won’t be getting any more presents at Christmas, he argued, and pretty soon kids will be telling you there just is no such thing as Christmas. The last Christmas that we spent together, I did a foolish thing. I gave Jack a Christmas present. He just laughed at me. Jack didn’t believe in Christ mas and since he had no religion, either, where did I get off giving him a Bible? He spouted off pretty well, but he put the Bible in the pocket of his jacket just the same. We were on patrol the day after Christmas when it hap pened. We never knew whether the grenade was thrown or booby-trapped. It just exploded between us, with a blinding flash. It’s been three years since that grenade exploded. I was sent home soon after that, con sidering myself lucky to have lost only part of a leg. And you wouldn’t know it if you saw me walking down the street. And Jack? Well, it’s Christ mas time again. He’ll be coming by to see me, any minute now. We’ll gather around, my wife and kids and the preacher will read a bit from that famous Bibleofhis — tattered and torn by grenade fragments that changed a man’s life even though they failed to reach his heart. from all of us to you! Newberry Dry Goods. Company C. J. McWhirter & Son. 1004 Main Street The Blessings of the Season to Our Friends THE HAT BOX Myrtle M. Long, 1109 Caldwell St. Newberry, S. C. May God grant you and your family these joyful gifts of this holy season ... Loue, Peace and Understanding. We thank you for your loyal patronage. Whitaker Floor Coverings WINNSBORO RD. (Formerly Bishop's Skate Arena) NEWBERRY, SOUTH CAROLINA