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Catching something for supper I was born Oct. 12, 1956. My daddy was 50 years old at the time. Behind our house was an old house where we would take off tobacco and eat boiled peanuts. Daddy had chickens which he raised from bitties. One day we were in the old house tending tobacco and a chicken got out of the fence. Daddy said throw something at it. I threw a tobacco stick at it. Back then and still now, my favorite food was chicken pastry. By accident, I killed the chicken. Mama dressed the chicken that night, and we had chicken pastry. Daddy left me on April 20, 1993, after suffering from Alzheimer’s and being bed-ridden for one and a half years. This is a tribute to my daddy, Berry Mitchell. Doris Burroughs |
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