Like most other people I was born. I was specifically born in Madisonville Kentucky in 1967. My mom and dad had gotten married early in 1966 in Mount Pisgah Baptist church, and that is where my strange story started.
My dear mom was raised Roman Catholic. She had attended either church schools or on-base military schools here whole life. Her dad, my grandfather, was career navy. He was based in Fort Campbell Kentucky when she met my dad. My dad was pure bread redneck just a little short of inbred. The first generation out of the mines of Muhlenberg county(You know your family has worked in the mines to much when a road to them is named for your family).
The Airshaft lane is where the crescent mine is, or was. Coal was king, and it truly enslaved the state. My grandmother would tell about being paid in script. But that is for another post. Mt. Pisgah road is to the east on the map. Our family lived right between Heaven and hell. Browning lane is for Bill Browning, he married my Aunt Anna. Never has walked on this earth a nicer lady. Damn I miss her. Some maps say Crescent road instead of Miller road, but what the heck does the government know? The county says Miller and that is good enough for the county.
Well as the story goes they met, they got engaged, and they got married. Married in 1966 at Mount Pisgah as expected for a Miller. It was the family church and most of my family has been laid to rest there, and my dad is there now.
Now mom was still a Catholic at heart. Born into the church she had planned on dying in the church, but I screwed that up. What happened was a warning about the life I was going to lead.
I do not know how old I was at the time, memory is a bit faded, but I was only a few months old when the Catholic nature of my mom said that it was time for me to be christened. Going to the nearest church she approached the priest and started to talk to him about getting me christened.
This is where it got a little extreme.
To make it short he told her an absolute "no".
Why? Because I was a bastard. Yep. Not even a few months old and
Wrong move people. My mom, to this day, will not tell me what she said specifically, but as she said "I gave him a few choice words and left". I really want to know what she said, but she refuses to tell me. Bad mom. I want the dirt.
She kept the promise made that day except for one time. Many years ago she went back to say goodbye to her brother. Several months after walking out of the church that first time she was approached by a couple of guys in white shirts with name tags. Mormon missionaries. To round out the story she converted, and I was raised in the LDS church never knowing my true illegitimate heritage. But as I get older I find it is becoming easier to find the true bastard inside.