Ebbie

CHAPTER I

THE BEGINNING

          His name was Edward, but to the others whose home he shared, he was Eddie.  That was to all except one little girl who could not yet talk plainly.  Try as she may, the word always came out Ebbie.  The other members of the family thought that was funny, so soon everyone who knew him began calling him Ebbie. November 29, 1921 was his day.  That was the date upon which a first generation American whose was father born in Scotland and whose mother was born in Wales became James Edward Martin.

            The first memories which he can recall were of the house where he lived.  At that time, he had no idea of where it was nor how he happened to be there.  His situation was not unlike the young of a burrowing animal whose eyes have just opened and who ventures outside for the first time.  It blinks in wonderment at the strange world, does not comprehend it, but immediately loves the thrill of its sights, sounds, and odors.  It was outside that house on a steep hillside lawn with which Ebbie associated most of his pleasant early memories as well as some of his most unpleasant ones.  It was inside that house that he was to learn the harsh realities of the decade of his birth and of his situation in particular.

            The house was set against the hill in such a way as to appear to be a two story structure when viewed from the street, but it was in fact a single story with a full basement.  The basement contained a large kitchen and laundry room.  Adjacent to the exterior door was a small closet beneath a wooden stair which lead to the main floor. The inside walls and ceilings were covered by narrow tongue and groove lumber.  The windows throughout were  double-sash four pane type typical of the era.  All floors were covered by linoleum.  A single bare light bulb dangled from a cord in the center ceiling of each room.  In addition to the basement rooms, there was a large living room, two bed rooms, and a single bathroom on the main floor. A porch accessible by many wooden steps and containing the front entrance extended the complete width of the house.  A smaller side porch attached to one side of the house’s main floor and  adjacent to the lawn had been closed in by windows to form a sun-room.  The entire main floor was heated by a single pot-bellied coal-burning Burnside stove located in the center of the living room.  All of the furnishings were of modest quality and were well worn.

            All of the houses on that dead-end street were built alike, were crowded together, and followed the contour of the hill.  There was a vacant lot beside the house where Ebbie lived.  Perhaps another house had burned and was never replaced.  The vacant lot was rough, partially eroded, covered by a  growth of course pasture grass, and a clump of orange lilies.  A sickly red rambler rose bush clung precariously to the raw edge of a steep bank by the side of the street.  Ebbie learned many years afterward that the house where he lived was located at Morgantown, West Virginia.