My childhood was great, for the most part. My family wasn't poor or rich--we just were. My parents gave me everything that they could--love, friendship, trust, God. My dad was a chef/cook of many places. He worked at Izzy's, Black Angus, The Spot (which we owned), The Hop (which we also owned). My mom was a mom. She only worked when she had to which wasn't very often. She worked at a pharmacy and at the Dorcas House and then at The Hop.
January 1999
Well I was 11 when my dad was working at Black Angus. During that time, something happened. Everyday my dad seemed to get fatter and fatter. We could feel the pressure of his belly; it felt like a balloon. We kept saying, "go to the hospital, find out what's wrong". "No, no," he would say, "it's just gas, it'll go away". Well it didn't go away. He decided to be a genius one day and poke his stomach really hard. He told us he was thinking, 'if i poke a hole in my belly, the air will get out and I'll be fine. Well he poked himself really hard and the pain was so great that he was brought to his knees. He drove home (in that much pain) and said "let's go to the hospital." it was 10:00pm. So my mom and I drove him to the hospital where he was rushed into emergency surgery because his bowel was perforated. Mom and I went home around 3. A nurse called us later that morning to update us on how dad was doing and she said if he had come in even a minute later, he would be dead. Mom started crying and I, being only 11, was in shock. The recovery was long and hard on everyone, but we made it.
When he was all healed up, he started thinking about and looking for a job. With God's provision and protection, he bought The Hop Drive-In. He had always wanted to own another dairy bar (he had owned The Spot before the surgery). We opened September 1, 1999. God watched over us and our business. We were blessed with 6 years of ownership. My dad was the cook, my mom and I either took orders or manned the friers. We had 3 or 4 girls who worked for us--Tracy, Krystina, and Maggie.
December 15, 2005
This was the end of the first semester of my senior year. I had just taken my Anatomy final and completely bombed, so it was already a bad day and it was just noon. We were short-handed that week at The Hop because someone was sick, so I had to go straight there. I pull into the parking lot and was shocked to find that we weren't busy, not just that--but we weren't even open. Very confused, I went inside and asked what was happening. They started telling me that we've been shut down because of tax issues. The girls and I start crying. So we were closed. My dad, mom, Tracy, Krystina, Maggie and me were all out of a job. Mom, Dad, and I went through the Christmas season without any income.
Dad found a job quick, though he couldn't start until after the New Year. So Christmas came and went and so did New Years and Dad started his job. He was a bread delivery man for Ideal Bread Co. He worked for a week and we got a call.
January 14, 2006
Dad called to say that he had fallen at work and that he was at the hospital. We darted out the door and sped to the hospital. We came to find no blood--nothing but him laying in a hospital bed. We also found out that he had nearly shattered his knee. The doctors put an external fixation on his leg to straighten it out and give the knee some room. They sent him home with instructions to take it easy and to come back a week later for reconstructive surgery. So we got him home and comfortable. The next few days were really hard. Eventually we took him back to the hospital because he couldn't keep any food down. So he went into surgery and they worked on his intestines. He came out and seemed to be doing better--but he took a turn for the worst. His kindeys and liver started failing, so they put him on a respirator to keep the stress off of his heart.
February 1, 2006
The doctor came in and told us with a heavy heart that there was nothing else they could do for him. He told us he had 24 hours left.
February 2, 2006
First thing in the morning, Mom and I went to the hospital. I didn't want to go; I wanted to be at school. But Mom made me go with her. Nothing was happening, so my aunt (dad's sister) took me home to clean up the house a bit so we could receive people at home later that week. After I helped clean up, I went to school to pick up some homework; after all, I had been gone for a while.
So, I got up to the high school and I started seeing people come out of the gym and such--so I figured class was out. And it was. People started come up to me, especially from my class, telling me that they were praying for me and my family. I thanked them and went into the building. Waiting there for me was my English teacher, Mrs. Walker, my choir director, Mrs. Quay, my friends, Sarah, Sadie, Brooke, Becky, Marla, Katie, Julielle, Kappie, and my friend’s pastor, Charles Chamblee. After lots of tears, Mrs. Walker convinced me that I needed to be with my family in case something happened. She took me in her car to the hospital and by the time I got there; all of my family and best friends were there in the waiting room. I was overwhelmed by the amount of people who cared for me and my mom.
Right after we got to the hospital, Charles took me back to where my mom and dad were. I saw my mom standing at the nurses station in ICU, which was odd--she was always in my dad's room. So I went up to her and asked, "Is he gone?" and her response was, "Yes, sweetie". The tears came long and hard. After I went to see my dad, I went back into the waiting room. Hugs, a few tears, and a whole lot of love came rushing towards me. I hugged my family and friends. We sat in the waiting room talking about all the good times that were had by all. We laughed and cried and hugged.
I had lost my dad...
William Frank Harrison is my hero, my daddy, my friend. I will never ever forget you.
February 5, 1957-February 2, 2006
ps. so sorry it's so long--bless you if you're reading this right now.
