Wednesday, April 2, 2008
10:38-10:48, 1:58-2:03, 4:00-4:14
O.K. So everyday I say that I am done revising my story and everyday I revise it some more. Pathetic isn’t it. Just when I think that I can’t do anything different some idea just falls out of the sky and BHAM I change my story.
My dad read my story aloud to me yesterday on Skype. It was weird hearing my story without looking at the words. No one has ever read my story to me before. It sounds different than it is in my head and I can better hear critiques that I feel need to be made.
I am going to take out the children’s names. I think that it hinders the flow of the story.
I also would like to add some details. I will do so in teal color.
As Joyce grew up she faced many difficulties. After Joyce’s family moved to Texas at age three her mother abandoned the family, so Joyce and her younger brother, Alvis, were sent to live with their grandparents. There Joyce remembers Grandma making biscuits on the wood stove and Grandpa quoting scripture. Joyce learned a lot from her grandparents, but her father would soon remarry and Joyce adjusted, once again, to a new home life.
As Joyce grew up she faced many difficulties. When Joyce was just a young girl her family made a big to Texas, then a few years later Joyce’s mother abandoned the family. Joyce and her younger brother, Alvis, were sent to live with their grandparents. There in that white washed farmhouse Joyce remembers Grandma making biscuits on the wood stove and Grandpa quoting scripture. Joyce became very close to her grandparents, but her father would soon remarry and Joyce adjusted, once again, to a new home life.
O.K. Today is my final day of revision.
I sincerely cannot think of anything else to do. Tell me what you think of this story.
On August 20, 1921 a little baby girl entered the world on a small rural farm in Martha, Oklahoma. The first child of Barney and Beaulah Sublett, she was born into a world with no televisions or computers. Her home did not have a bathroom, a telephone or electricity. She was also born into a world where women in Oklahoma had only recently gained the right to vote. But Joyce would one day accomplish much more than what was expected of a women in her day.
As Joyce grew up she faced many difficulties. When Joyce was just a young girl her family made a big to Texas, then a few years later Joyce’s mother abandoned the family. Joyce and her younger brother, Alvis, were sent to live with their grandparents. There in that white washed farmhouse Joyce remembers Grandma making biscuits on the wood stove and Grandpa quoting scripture. Joyce became very close to her grandparents, but her father would soon remarry and Joyce adjusted, once again, to a new challenges.
Over time little Joyce blossomed into a beautiful young woman. Joyce met and married a handsome fellow named John. As their family began to grow with the addition of two baby girls, John obtained a crucial job driving a Dallas city bus. In 1941 the United States entered World War II and by 1944 John was drafted into the US Army. Joyce was pregnant with their third daughter when John was shipped off to France. Joyce decided to drive a city bus, making her one of the first lady bus drivers in Dallas.
Joyce seemed to have a natural knack for driving. “Your husband must have already showed you how to drive this bus because I am amazed you caught on so fast.” Said the instructor who taught her how to maneuver the vehicle.
Driving a big bus could be challenging, as Joyce discovered one bright Spring morning when she drove the large bus out of the bus barn where the buses were stored overnight. In those days, milk was delivered to a person‘s house in glass jars by a fleet of delivery trucks. As Joyce approached an intersection one of these milk delivery trucks raced to try to make it through the intersection and he was directly in her path. Joyce tried to bring the big behemoth of a bus to a halt, but she couldn’t. As the two vehicles collided, glass milk bottles crashed onto the pavement and a beautiful white river of milk flowed down the street.
One chilly Autumn day a few years later Joyce made the rounds of her bus route in the dusty downtown of Dallas. At one designated stop, amid towering buildings, a scruffy old man began to ascend the stairs of the bus. Looking up, he saw that the bus driver was a woman and he abruptly stopped, not quite on, not quite off. Moments passed. He stood on the stairs and continued to stare at the rare lady bus driver.
“Either get on or off of the bus.” Joyce stated frankly. The rumpled man continued to just look at her from the bus’s stairwell, not moving an inch.
“I have to close the bus doors, sir. You need to find a seat.” Joyce informed him.
Still, the disheveled man did not move.
While he stood frozen, Joyce explained in her sweet southern voice, “The bus has to continue the route. You can’t hold it up any longer, sir.”
Finally, as her words had not effect Joyce stood up from the big driver’s seat and, holding onto the shiny metal support bars of the bus, she abruptly put her foot against his chest and pushed him off of the bus. Then, she casually returned to her seat and finished the route. She had a schedule to keep and nothing would stop her from doing her work.
By the 1950’s John and Joyce had long since changed jobs to driving dump trucks instead of city buses. The sun was high in the big Texas sky one scorching hot Summer day. Air conditioners were rare in dump trucks back then, so after carefully dumping the contents of her truck off a small platform that overhung boxcars down below Joyce parked her vehicle and stood by the refreshment stand with the other drivers in hopes a gentle breeze would whisk away the heat. She and the men sipped ice cold Coca-Colas before heading back for another load. After a few minutes a thin, bearded guy wearing denim overalls and a smirk joined to the group.“That the platform is too narrow for my truck. I will have to go somewhere else to dump my load. It’s a shame I drove all the way out here for nothing.” He said.
“I can do it.” Joyce found her self saying aloud. She knew she would be able to steer his truck onto the skinny platform. Although this task was difficult, Joyce was not afraid to do this because she knew that she was very skilled.
“You? A woman? You think you can drive my big truck onto that narrow platform? It can’t be done and you’ll make a fool of yourself if you try.” The man answered.
“Then I’ll show you and we’ll see who’s the fool.” Joyce retorted and before the man could answer she jumped into his truck and began to carefully guide it where it had never gone before. All the men stared.
“It can’t be done. And you‘ll pay for my truck when you mess it up!” The bearded doubter yelled after her.
But Joyce showed him it could. She skillfully backed it up with only a few small inches of leeway on each side of the tires. As she dumped the load all of the men stood in utter disbelief, mouths gaping open. After the men shook their surprise, they began to harass the bearded guy who doubted it could be done. Joyce jumped out of the truck and glided back to the group, triumphant. From then on no one doubted what a Joyce could accomplish.
In 1953 John and Joyce decided to go into business for themselves. They bought two green dumps trucks of their own and started a business called J. L. D*** Asphalt and Paving. Joyce ran the business by collecting money and doing the paperwork while John and their employees paved airplane runways, driveways and roads, built bomb shelters, put in swimming pools and much more. The business would expand and they added five red trucks. Their family would also expand. The whole time Joyce was running this business she had three more children, two boys and a girl.
Side note/deleted portion of story:
One day while roller skating with her friend she met a handsome and charming fellow named John. John was a wonderful guy, but he was sometimes tricky. The day she met him he pretended he didn’t know how to roller skate. All the girls crowded around him to show him how to skate, but soon he laughed and skated away showing that he had known how to skate the whole time.