By ROBERT C. BYRD
This autobiography follows usa Senator Robert C. Byrd’s reviews from his boyhood within the early Nineteen Twenties to his election in 2000, which gained him an unparalleled 8th time period within the Senate. alongside the approach, Senator Byrd bargains statement on nationwide and foreign occasions that happened all through his lengthy lifestyles in public carrier. Senator Byrd’s trip from the hardscrabble coalfields to the marbled halls of Congress has encouraged generations of individuals in West Virginia and through the state. From studying the tales of the Founding Fathers as a tender boy via the sunshine of a kerosene lamp to the swearing of an oath for greater than a half-century to protect the us structure, Senator Byrd’s existence is famous. Byrd continuously stands by means of his ideas, incomes the love of the folk of his domestic nation and the distinction of usa citizens from all walks of lifestyles. along with his loved Erma ever by means of his part, Robert C. Byrd hasn't ever forgotten his roots, harkening again to these early classes that he realized as a toddler of the Appalachian coalfields.
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This autobiography follows usa Senator Robert C. Byrd’s stories from his boyhood within the early Twenties to his election in 2000, which received him an unheard of 8th time period within the Senate. alongside the approach, Senator Byrd deals statement on nationwide and overseas occasions that happened all through his lengthy existence in public provider.
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Additional info for Robert C. Byrd: Child of the Appalachian Coalfields
I was able to pick up a nickel or so now and then by running an errand to the grocery store for a neighboring housewife. I recall spending my nickel for a cone ﬁlled with a dipper of ice cream on one such occasion, and, momentarily being distracted, I let the cone tip, and the ice cream toppled and was gone. I even yet look back—with amusement tinged with a tad of chagrin—upon the time when I dropped my precious ice cream from the cone to the ground. The Broken Windowpane Speaking of earning a few nickels by making runs to the store for a neighbor’s wife, one day I shot a small toy airplane through the window of a neighbor’s house.
The depression years 23 I always gave a “mess” of tenderloin or neckbones and spareribs from the freshly dressed hogs to the miners’ wives who had saved food scraps for me. Then, my dad would start off with a new batch of pigs, and the whole cycle of gathering the scraps and “slopping” the pigs would start all over again. My dad usually gave me one of the hogs, which I would sell, and the money was mine to keep. In the summertime, I often picked wild greens from the hills, and the supper table would frequently bear a dish of what we called “poke salate,” cooked with eggs.
She ended her sterling defense of me by suggesting to the students that they should be more courteous to visiting guests, even though they might not agree with the views expressed. Then she sat down, amidst the enthusiastic applause of the crowd. That woman was the very same Mrs. Lewis! I had had no idea that she was in the audience, or even in the State of Florida, because I had lost track of the whereabouts of Mr. and Mrs. Joseph Lewis following his retirement from his position at Stotesbury years before.