Then they sold them to the workers, taking mortgage payments out of their paycheck each week. The South is dotted with the remnants of these kinder, g...ntler days. By the time that I came along, few of the residents still worked in the mill. Most were retired or like my great grandfather dead of cancer from the chemicals that the mill used to process the cotton. I can still remember the acrid smell of the tiny creek that wound its way along the back of the mill. All of the neighbors were. It's confusing."My story is simple. An old woman found by me. She had been a nurse before. She brought me back to health and I lived as her son until Jim's group found us and forced us to join them. It wasn't too bad. Momma Carol worked with me to teach me from what books we could find. I had to learn to read again but learned quickly. That's another reason she thinks I was twelve or thirteen when I got sick. My vocabulary and knowledge fit that age as did my growth after I was feeling okay."We. More

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