The Major

The Major: "The Major

In the late fifties when I became more aware of what my mother and father was telling their children and into the early sixties, they told us of a man. In those days, I suppose many parents felt a need to explain what us youngsters might see and wonder about�€”things they worried might cause us to be confused. One early explanation I recall was that of a lone figure who walked (forced marched) up and down the winding road to Lookout Mountain in Gadsden, Alabama.

He was in his world. He was not in ours that we could tell. Passing him by going down or traveling up toward home, we would see him regularly in those days and at nine or ten years old, one feels sorry that he was doing that. I felt sorry that he was alone. I worried that he was marching on the narrow shoulder of three-lane asphalt, the third lane alternating up and down, depending on the curve for traffic to pass slower vehicles either way. There he was and he was calling commands. Commands none of us could hear from inside the family�€™s station wagon, but I knew what they were. I had watched many war films and somehow knew what he was doing and asked my mother about him."