HOMETOWN LIVING AT I TS BEST 87
brother Hershel, and me. We just did
what needed to be done and took care
of each other.”
Which is not to say that there
weren’t bumps in the road and a few
scars along the way. If William’s sisters
hadn’t gotten him to Dr. Gross in
time, he wouldn’t have his left thumb
today. “Betty and Loretta would go to
the sawmill with the wagon and bring
home discarded slabs of wood for
firewood,” he said. These scraps were
needed for both cooking and heating.
“I was about six years old. While they
sawed the plank with the crosscut
saw, I sat on top of the board to hold
it down. The saw slipped, and I nearly
lost my thumb. They took me to town,
and ‘ole Dr. Gross sewed me up and
sent me home.”
At night, William and the other
children would stand outside and
watch the searchlights scanning the
skies for enemy planes. “That’s the
reason Vidalia has an airport,” said
William. “It was built during WWII. My
older sister married a boy who kept up
the equipment for the Army out there.
She moved off to New York with him.
When she started having babies, my
mama rode the train from here to New
York to see them.”
The first few years of school
were difficult for William. He was
twelve years old when it was finally
discovered that he desperately needed
eyeglasses. He had not been able to
see the blackboard where every lesson
and assignment had been written. He
spent the next several years of school
trying to catch up academically.
Like many children at that time,
William picked cotton and tobacco by
hand. He remembered well the sweet
white onions his grandfather grew in
the 40s that he would pick right out
of the field and slice up to eat in his
mama’s home-cooked biscuits. William
also delivered The Atlanta Journal-
Constitution and bagged groceries at
Shuman’s Grocery in Vidalia. There
never was a time when he didn’t have
at least two jobs.
After graduating from Vidalia
High School, William went to Georgia
Southwestern State University
in Americus. He went on a work
scholarship and drove a bus for the
school. In 1962, he graduated with a
degree in upholstery. Back home, he
met Jeannine, his future wife, at North
Thompson Baptist Church. Littleberry
Columbus Thompson, William’s
great-great-grandfather, had donated
the land for the church and adjoining
cemetery years earlier. Littleberry’s
sons, John Andrew Thompson and
Littleberry Columbus Thompson, Jr.,
would later move to the other side of
the county and donate land for South
Thompson Baptist Church. John
Andrew Thompson was my husband’s
great-great-great-grandfather. The log
house he built all those years ago stood
for many years in the back field of the
family farm.
In the Fall of 1962, an American
spy plane discovered the Soviets
were building sites to launch missiles
that could potentially strike the
United States, bringing the two world
powers to the brink of a nuclear war.
In 1963, four months after William
and Jeannine were married, he was
drafted into the Army. After boot camp
at Fort Gordon, he was sent to Fort
Ord and Camp Roberts in California.
After Camp Roberts, William worked
in supply ordinance in a supply camp
at Fort Liggett, which was also in
California. From there, he went to Fort
Lewis in Washington State.
“You got paid every thirty
days,” said William. “During all that
movement, my paperwork got messed
up somehow. The pay was about $78
a month, and $48 went home to
Jeannine. That day when I went to
collect my pay, the officer looked up
from his notebook and said, ‘King, do
you have someone who can send you
some money?’ I said, ‘No, sir.’ He said,
‘Well, you ain’t got nothing coming
this month.’” Although he would
eventually receive the money for the
missed month, he said, “I had food
and shelter, so I could survive. But
being broke taught me a lesson I never
forgot.” From then on, William opened
a banking account and took on extra
work. He volunteered to work guard
duty on weekends, which gave him an
additional $20 and picked peaches in
Washington State in the Yakima Valley
when he was off duty. Any off time was
an opportunity to work.
In 1964, his diligence paid off in
an unexpected way. When the Red
Cross contacted him with the news
that his sister Betty had died during
what should have been a routine
hysterectomy, they asked if he wanted
to go home for the funeral. “I said,
‘Yes.’ I had not been home since leaving
for boot camp. They said, ‘Do you have
the money for your ticket?’ Until that
happened, I always thought that the
Red Cross would help send you home
if something bad happened, but they
don’t. They only help you with the
details, but not the money. If I hadn’t
had the money saved up, it would have
come out of my paycheck from the
Army. I said, ‘Yes, sir. It’s in the bank
over there.’ I wrote him a check for
$150 for the round trip ticket from
Seattle to Atlanta and back.”
William’s service ended in 1965.
“When I got out, there was no respect
shown to us for our service. It’s just in
the last few years that organizations
have started recognizing veterans.
You know, it wasn’t my choice. I was
drafted and went and served. But, I’d
go right now to serve my country.”
Back in Toombs County,
everybody was looking for a job.
“When I heard Piggly Wiggly Southern
was hiring, I went and applied.”
William was hired to work in the print
shop, something he knew nothing
about. Still, he was a hard worker and
learned quickly. “Melvin Mixon was
there, and he taught me a lot,” said
William. And as he learned everything
about printing, he fell in love with
both the work and the work-family at
Piggly Wiggly Southern. Before long,
he was a supervisor at what became
Southern Graphic Arts. “We printed
all the circulars for Piggly Wiggly and
several area newspapers, including
the Vidalia Advance. We had some fine
people, some talented people.”
William thought he would work
there forever. But in 1988, Piggly
Wiggly Southern was sold to Bruno’s
Supermarkets. “They wanted me to go
to Birmingham.” He said firmly, “That
was out of the question.” Now, at fiftythree
years old, William was suddenly