After a couple of weeks they sent me by plane across
the Atlantic to Long Island where I stayed seven days in a hospital.
Then I was transferred to McCloskey General Hospital in Temple [TX}
I was allowed to use the phone.
The very first thing I wanted to do
was call Home and tell them I was getting along okay and get the
kids to come over and see me
Well, sir, I've told you repeatedly about
how lucky I was all along Well, when they fixed up my leg over in
England they told me I'd have to wear the cast they put on for at least
six months. Now. that’s something you don’t do much gripin’ about
when you feel that the Lord has already stretch [sic] several points in
your favor. Nevertheless, by the time that cast began to have such
an odor that the guys started calling me “stinky,” why I was ready
to be rid of it. But the doctors and everybody told me not to get
out of bed. I guess I must have walked in my sleep. ! just know that
I’d never deliberately have gotten out of bed if I had wide awake! Anyway,
somehow I was out of bed and fell and broke the cast on my leg. That
was on August 17th, just six weeks (not six months) after the cast had
been put on in England.
On August. 18th they took off the cast, and
while it was off they decided to X-Ray my leg and see how I was doin’.
Were they surprised? It was healing so rapidly and was already so well
knitted that they did not even put another cast on my leg. Just a steel
brace which I could take off some of the time in bed.
I'm telling you, fate kind of batted us Daniels
kids around in the early days of our lives. Took Mother and Dad away
from us. Left us without home or any way to get along together as a
family. There were seven of us. I being the oldest one of the tribe.
I was twelve then, and Lisette was a little more than a year old.
Our plight was brought to the attention of the Methodist Home at
Waco, and they agreed to take us in as a family. Frankly. I remember
that I did not then relish the idea of going into an “orphanage” as
we then thought of the Methodist Home. But, it did kept us together
and that was a godsend to us.
Well, I want to tell all of you that the Methodist
Home is not an “orphanage." It is a Home. A real Home
where the kids of a big family like mine can live and grow up
together. Where we come to know that there is lots of love in the
hearts of folks like you for kids like all of us who are proud to
call the Methodist Home our Home.
Believe me. I’ve been thru some pretty rugged
spots since I left Home. I've been shoulder-to-shoulder with guys
from all sorts of families' and homes Some rich ones. Some poor
ones. Some with brothers and sisters and mothers and dads, and all
that. They'd show me pictures of their folks and 'hen- homes, and
stuff like that. And I want you to know that I could show them my
pictures of my family and my Home with real pride.
Listen out there I got a chance to do some
thinking of my own. Figuring things out. Using my noodle like we are
taught to use ’em here at Horne. All I’ve got to say is that we
Americans make good soldiers and good citizens because we’re tied
onto something real. Our homes. Our folks. Our country. Our way of
living. Gee, you just don’t get to know what our way of living is
really like until you’ve seen how the people in other countries
I know that you folks who read The Sunshine
are the ones who are mostly responsible for the Home and its
provisions for my family and the 100 other kids who are living such
happy and useful lives here. Now that I'm back. I want to take this
opportunity to thank all of you for what your generosity and decency
have meant to me and my own brothers and sisters.