IT TAKES THREE

This part of my story is a chronological order of events from age two until approximately age four. Bettye Lou thinks it is amazing that I can remember things from when I was two. I was with my birth mother, Fern Lucille Coop Wood, and her parents, Elder Charles Coop Wood and Sally Coop Wood, and my loving sister. I was born in Cincinnati, Ohio, on November 27, 1947, at Jewish Hospital. Even though my dad’s name is William Henry Noble, my parents named me William Roger Noble Jr. I am not a true junior inasmuch as my dad and I do not share the same middle name. For as long as I can remember, my mother has referred to me as Billy Jr. The same is true for all my relatives on my birth mother’s side of the family. At the age of two, Fern moved us to Hot Springs, Arkansas. At that time, I didn’t know what the problem was, but I knew that my dad did not come with us. We lived with my grandfather and grandmother in Hot Springs. During the trip from Cincinnati to Hot Springs, a strange thing occurred during the car ride. My mom seemed to experience a high level of anxiety. Before I knew what was going on, she had unclothed me and opened the car door, preparing to jump out with me in her arms. Uncle Bob (my mom’s brother) slammed on the brakes and grabbed my mom’s arm. She and I were pulled to safety. From that day forward, I sensed that something strange was going on with my mom. Life with my grandparents seemed very structured. My grandfather was a Seventh-day Adventist minister. We virtually stayed in church a majority of the time. My mother, an accomplished pianist, played the piano and organ for the congregation. My sister and I were members of the children’s choir. My mother was a classical pianist who played concerts all over the United States. My grandmother stated that she had played the piano since she was three. Many referred to her as being a musical genius. She would place me on top of our piano, and I would listen to her play for hours. My mother played with orchestras, churches, and other civic groups. My grandfather was opposed to her playing in orchestras, jazz groups, or civic groups; his opposition was a major frustration for my mother. He only wanted her to play in churches. My mother was a beautiful woman with a wonderful personality. My sister always said I was her favorite child. When she was in town, she devoted a lot of attention toward me. My grandmother took care of my sister and me the majority of the time since my mother was constantly traveling to concerts.