Be The Turtle

Dear Boo and Bubble,

Well, we just rang in another New Year, an occasion that oftentimes serves as a re-set button in people's lives. It's a universal opportunity to take a deep breath full of fresh anticipation with eyes towards the future and a new beginning - all the while shedding the cumbersome problems of the past like a well-worn overcoat. People sometimes use the New Year to resolve to make necessary modifications in their lives that will result in better health or wealth or personal circumstance. I've done so at almost every passing of December into January. Let me assure you, however, that significant changes in one's life don't always sync to the flip of a calendar and you best be ready to embrace them when they occur, even if in rapid succession ------- sort of like what happened to Captain and me from 1973 – 1975.

In the early summer of 1973, when I met Captain for the first time, he was working with the federally funded Pre-Trial Intervention Program in Columbia, SC, which provided a pathway for first-time criminal offenders to have their records expunged, or purged, of the offense if they completed the prescribed regimen the program dictated. The organization relied heavily on counselors to work individual cases, but there was an administrative layer and Captain served as the Assistant Director.

Later in the year, President Richard Nixon utilized a budgeting technique called “impoundment” to withhold funding for items in the federal budget that Congress had appropriated. Historically, all American presidents since John Adams had asserted the right to impound appropriated funds, and used this as a way of making relatively small cuts in Federal spending on programs that they deemed unwise or unnecessary. However, President Nixon's use of impoundment was on such a large scale it equaled over 4% of the spending Congress had appropriated for the 1973-74 fiscal year - nearly $12 billion. He argued that it was necessary to combat unusually serious inflationary pressures of the time by trimming back the budget deficit. Members of Congress didn't buy it and his action so outraged them that they passed the Congressional Budget and Impoundment Control Act of 1974 which took the power away from the Executive Branch.

Little did President Nixon know that he had not only ticked off Congress, but he had also set into motion a series of events that changed the course of our lives completely.

The Pre-Trial Intervention Program suffered serious cutbacks from his impoundment. The director approached Captain to evaluate the budget to determine what adjustments would have to be made to balance the program needs with the newly reduced allocated funds. After hours of working with the figures, Captain determined that one of the easiest ways to insure the continued success of the program was for him to eliminate his position from the budget. The counselors were essential – an Assistant Director not so much. He also knew his ultimate goal would be to go into the practice of law, not staying with Pre-Trial Intervention. And so, he wrote himself out of the budget.

By Thanksgiving of that year, we were engaged to be married and Captain, having passed both the SC and FL bar exams, set out to find a law firm willing to hire him. Usually, most law firms finalized their new associates at the end of summer, right after the results of Bar Exams were posted. The timing for Captain's search of a job led to few decent options, but he kept looking and made the choice to join a small two-partner firm in Gaffney, SC.

When 1974 arrived, my attentions turned to our pending wedding while Captain settled into his work. We found an apartment to rent on East Montgomery Street in Gaffney for the huge sum of $150 a month and Captain moved in. I vacated the place I had been renting and returned to 3 Lakecrest with Mamaw Mary and Granddaddy Schaefer in order to save the money.

Our wedding took place on May 18. We went to Cape Cod on our honeymoon and returned to Gaffney to start our lives together. I found a job at the local C&S bank branch as a teller. Captain immersed himself in whatever legal assignments he was given by the partners at the firm, mostly checking real estate titles at the courthouse, but on occasion something a little more challenging.

In January of 1975, I became pregnant with your mom. As the year unfolded, I sensed Captain wasn't particularly enamored with his situation at the law firm. He fretted a lot, which was very uncharacteristic, and I wondered if the pressure of becoming a father might be weighing on him. Finally, it surfaced that he and the senior partner really didn't get along.

One evening in May, after we had finished our dinner, he turned to me.

“I'm thinking about opening up my own law office, but I'm just not sure if that is the right thing to do,” he said.

I admit I wasn't completely surprised by his comment and perhaps I had subconsciously composed a response, having seen his restlessness for a time. I looked him in the eyes.

“Well, all I can say is........... I'm five month's pregnant and if you wait until this baby gets here, I guarantee you won't have the nerve to go out on you own.”

The next day, Captain began to look around town for an office space. One of the other lawyers in the community, a gentleman named C.D. Padgett, owned the only multi-storied building on one of the main streets – the Hotel Carroll. In its basement level were several suitable spots. Mr. Padgett told Captain that he would give him a space rent-free for a year and would also funnel some clients to him. (Years later, Captain asked him why he did so and Mr. Padgett explained that when he had come to Gaffney, no one lifted a finger to help him. He vowed at that time if he could ever help a young lawyer get started, he would do so.)

Captain gave his notice to the old firm and took $500 out of our savings account. He bought filing cabinets, a desk, a used typewriter and some office supplies. It was a very proud day when he hired a painter to inscribe “John R. Tally, Attorney at Law” on the pane of the outside door to his office.

A few days after, I was in a gift shop for some reason and noticed a poster on the wall. It was a cartoon of a turtle with his neck extended. The caption read “Hail the turtle. He never gets anywhere unless he sticks out his neck.” I immediately claimed it from the wall and purchased it. The store clerk graciously wrapped it for me in some festive paper and ribbon.

I drove straight to the Hotel Carroll and walked into Captain's office to present it to him. He was so taken with the poster that he took his framed University of South Carolina Law School diploma off the wall from behind his desk and hung the turtle in its place. There it stayed until a fire claimed the hotel two years later.

Yes, boys changes can come to you at any time, not just at the New Year. Some are out of your control, some you initiate on your own. Just remember, don't be afraid of change. Be a turtle. Stick your neck out!