By Loren Hardin-

This is part one of a series about Larry, who was 40 years old when he enrolled in Hospice with end-stage cirrhosis of the liver.  Larry was born in Portsmouth, Ohio, but when Larry was 13 months old his parents moved to Muldraugh, Ky., outside of Fort Knox, where his father was stationed.
Larry reflected, “Muldraugh was a base town on Highway 31 W. It only had one street about a mile long and everything was on one side of the street.  It was in the Guinness Book of World Records for the smallest town. I grew up around a lot of cultures and races. My best friend Chucky was Black-Korean and my friend Linda was Korean-American.  I loved school.  I walked to school every day because it was just down the street from our house.”  Larry’s mother Debbie stated, “Larry’s little sister Trish was really attached to Larry.  He called her ‘Sissy’ and she called him ‘Bubby’. Larry continued, “One day she sneaked out of the bathtub and walked to school to be with me.  She was naked and wanted to sit by me.  She was almost three and I was in kindergarten. Debbie recalled that in the chaos of her trying to bathe two children, that Trish sneaked out the back and went straight to Larry’s classroom, which was only a few yards from their home.
Larry continued, “Mom and Dad split up in 1985”. Therefore Larry, his mother and his two sisters moved back to Portsmouth when Larry was 11.  Larry stated, “I had a Dad, but I really didn’t.  He was in prison for 18 years.  We lived in a lot of different places. When the rent was due we had to move because we didn’t have any money.”  Debbie admitted, “It was rough”.
Larry reflected, “I started drinking when I was 14.  I started out drinking and partying with friends on the weekends and then I started skipping school. I was a shy person, but when I drank I came out of it.  It was ‘liquid courage’. I could make people laugh and people accepted me.”  Debbie stated,” He was a follower.  He wanted to fit in, to be accepted.”  Larry also admitted, “I lived with a chip on my shoulder. When I was 13 a principal in Piketon told me, ‘You have a chip on your shoulder and one of these days somebody is going to knock it off.’  And I told him, ‘You do too.’  Larry shrugged and said, “It was the authority thing.”
Larry loves music and “grew up” with his mother listening to George Jones; therefore I quoted the lyrics of the song “Choices” to Larry, “I’ve had choices since the day that I was born.  There were voices that told me right from wrong.  If I had listened, no, I wouldn’t be here today, living and dying with the choices I’ve made.” Larry admitted, “It’s what I did to myself.  I don’t blame anybody. And I don’t want anybody feeling sorry for me.  What I’m sorry for is what I did to the people who love me.  Once I’m gone I’m gone, but they still have to live with it.  I just want to tell others not to go down the same road I went down.  I want to tell others, ‘Be your own person, but make wise decisions.’  You don’t have to be someone else.  Don’t try to be somebody you’re not just to fit in or make friends.  Because then they really won’t be your friends anyway.’”  I told Larry that his message to others reminds me of the song, “The House of the Rising Sun”; especially the line, “Oh mother tell your children not to do what I have done.”  Larry responded, “That gives me cold chills.”
Since Larry likes history, I shared some of the theories about the origin of “The House of the Rising Sun.” S ome musicologists theorize that the song is a traditional folk song originating in England in the 1700’s and brought to the U.S. by immigrants. They also debate whether “The House of the Rising Sun” was an actual place.  There is mention of a house-like pub called the “Rising Sun” in the classic “Black Beauty” tale, published in 1877, which was set in London, England. There is also documented evidence of establishments in New Orleans in the 1800’s with the name “The Rising Sun”; a hotel, a restaurant/bar, and a social club. And a New Orleans visitors guide suggests that the song refers to a madam of a brothel in the 1800’s whose name, when translated from French to English, is “The Rising Sun”.  Some suggest that the name metaphorically refers to a prison, a brothel, a gambling house, and even to marriage. But I like Larry’s theory the best, “It can be any vice that a person has that takes over their life.”
“There is a house in New Orleans they call the Rising Sun, and it’s been the ruin of many a poor boy and God I know I’m one…Oh mother tell your children not to do what I have done; spend you lives in sin and misery in the house of the Rising Sun. Well I got one foot on the platform and, the other foot on the train.  I’m goin’ back to New Orleans to wear that ball and chain.”
Loren Hardin is a social worker with Southern Ohio Medical Center-Hospice and can be reached at (740) 356-2525 or at hardinl@somc.org.