"Come to poppa." Notes Byrning XII

Took me another 76 hours to get to Gulfport. Got a taxi and went straight to the hospital. Stayed by his bedside. As soon as I had an opportunity I started drinking. That opportunity was my grandmother lending me her car. It was like it was when I came back from Army A.I.T. I started drinking to get myself to make up for time without alcohol. Stayed drunk at his deathbed. His nurses gave me the most despicable looks. One even confronted me. Said she thought I was drinking because of Mardi Grass; but that was three days ago.

Went to the Army recruiter office begging to get help because my superiors were telling me I had to go back to the Balkans. A recruiter told me, “You stink.” I think my grand father knew. One day being half asleep and seeing him sit up in his bed. When I opened my eyes he was still laying on his bed. I pondered if his mind was getting stronger as his body was failing.

I so much wanted him to get better. I remember during buzzes that I had I would give him pep talks. I gave him one when he was told to drink his grape juice. When he spit it up I knew there was no hope.

One night I came to the hospital with the song “Come to poppa” by Bob Seger was playing on the radio. I wanted something from my grandfather. Still waiting. Perhaps I’ll be waiting the rest of my life.

On the day he died my momma was seeking counsel from a preacher. She’s been going to church ever since. Preacher man went to my poppa. He told the Holy Man that he believed in living right.

Had to go back to the Balkans the day of the funeral. I remember looking wondering if my mom’s relatives could see me as I loaded the plane.

In an airport in Germany I remember tying one on at McDonalds. It was so neat to be in a McDonalds that served beer. I almost wasn't allowed on the flight. I remember over the plane’s intercom “John Holmes, please raise your hand.”

I had been gone from the Balkans for three weeks. When I returned I was placed under the supervision of the same sergeant who I had insulted while being drunk at the Fort Benning bowling alley. Writing this now I realize how great he was to set whatever feelings toward me aside to see that I was taken care of. Within days he made sure I was on that bus for rest and retreat to Sophia Bulgaria.


Much of my experience during this period in my life was written in my book "0". Go to this link to purchase: http://www.amazon.com/0-honea-byrne-ebook/dp/B00DR7348S/ref=sr_1_2?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1420509848&sr=1-2&keywords=%220%22+honea+byrne

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