My Reading History

    My reading history started for me about the age of three years old. It was after the shooting death of my father Curtis Sr. that I first remember my mother Patricia reading to me daily. And just like most kids I had my favorite bed time story I do not recall what the title of the book was being that it has been some forty plus years later. But I vividly remember the story it was about two brothers one older and one several years younger then the older brother  who played football. And just like younger siblings wanting to follow in his older brother foot-steps he had wanted to play football also. The younger brother went to his mother the,brother and coach and ask if he could join the team and they all told him that he was to little to play and to try next year .Being upset the boy did decide to wait for the next season when the next fall came around his mother, brother and  the coach told the little boy the same thing they had told him the year before he was to little. The boy  very upset and crying but mid-way through the season the teams kicker got hurt. The football coach went looking for the little boy to tell him that he could in fact join the team replacing the hurt kicker the young boy was very excited about being on the same team as his older brother but no one ever excepted him to play in game. The teams new kicker when out and practice  kicking field goals all day long. And with only one game left and it was the championship with the game on the line in the fourth quarter the coach had no choice but to put the smallest player on the field in the game and he indeed kick the game wining field goal. It was one day when my aunties and uncles were over our house and I begin to recite from this book  and my aunt Pee-Wee started running around the saying Curtis Jr. is reading! Curtis Jr is reading! it was not until my uncle Frank came into the den while watching me " READ"  said that boy is not reading he has not turned one page of that book but he has memorized the whole book the house broke out in a long laughter, are they laughing at me? knowing now that they were laughing at themselves. It was not until I meet Mrs. Anderson at Carver elementary school that I learned to read  thank you Mrs. Anderson. I never liked reading out loud when ever a teacher would call on me read it would make me so nervous  the palms of hands sweat so bad I would rub my hands on my pants they would have wet stains from the moisture from my hands. It was not until I got to high school before I got comfortable reading out loud.