Tumbling with rattlesnakes…

When I was 7 years old, I went to a mountainous West Virginia state park with my mother. It is a beautiful, lush park with great views and exceptional scenery. This sounds like the perfect family outing right?…Well, it wasn’t quite as picturesque as one would expect…

First of all my mother and I lived with her boyfriend, and she was having a secret rendezvous with his brother…(there were extenuating circumstances that surrounded this “special” meeting…but that is another story).

While mom and Jack are having this intense conversation, I’m standing around this park getting bored and feeling a little unhappy about this rendezvous. At seven I don’t necessarily understand what is occurring, but I do know that I don’t like it. They obviously did not want me to hear or see what was going on, as I’m sure they could sense my hesitancy and distrust of this little meeting…so my mother and her friend decide to distract me.

Well…since we were in West Virginia and near a dumpster (did I mention the “secret” rendezvous part), they see a box and decide that it would be fun for me to get in this box, them fold up the top, then push me and the box down the hill, so I can tumble around in it…Maybe an older, less expensive version of the big bubble ball that people get in these days.

Working quickly, they pull the cardboard box over from the dumpster, throw me in and fold up the top, then they give me a push down the hill. Sounds like fun for a 7-year-old, tumbling down the hill in a box, why not?!

This is an on-going story of my life and some of the childhood adversities that I faced.  If you would like to start at the beginning of my tale, please read Four-year-old and Mother Survive Bludgeoning by River Rock, or go to the Childhood category and start at the bottom.

I still remember the box and tumbling down that hill like it was yesterday. It was fun to start with, laughing and giggling I rolled down this hill…but then I saw these little black things tumbling along with me. This frightened me. I didn’t know what these “things” were at this point.  I knew to be afraid.  So, I started to scream. When mom and Jack caught up with me (and my box), they opened it up and pulled me out to see what was wrong and why I was screaming. This is when they notice the three baby rattlesnakes in the box with me! Yes, three baby rattlesnakes.

Apparently, the mother rattlesnake had her babies in this cardboard box, next to the dumpster, and luckily she was out scouring for food or some such thing.

Fortunately, I was unhurt and did not get bit by any of the rattlesnakes, which would have probably been fatal considering our remote location. However, it was, none-the-less, traumatic.

This event drastically heightened my snake fear, but also helped me see, yet again, that maybe I did have a guardian angel. I know that I am surely blessed!

Please read the next part of my story at The First Time I Got My Mother Beaten, and like, share, and follow me to get updates on new stories.

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