“My Daddy is Here”
I worry all the time about being hurt or killed by another kid. I’ve been on the alert since I was 10. If you move your finger just a little, I’ll notice. And if someone is walking behind me, even 20 feet, I can feel it.
The other day I was driving a friend home, and I let my mind wander. Then I heard gunfire and brakes squealing. I didn’t know what to do. Because I dropped my guard for a second, I might have gotten us killed.
I wish there was a man in my family who could tell me the secrets of life. My father died of alcoholism, and I don’t have anything to go by. We did play catch once, when I was seven. That really stands out in my mind.
I have three things to remember my father by:a piece of his blue workshirt, a Scripture from my mother, and the tissue I cried on at his funeral. I saved them in a little black bag.
One day, during a track meet, I tied the bag to my shoes. When people asked me about it, I said, “Your daddy is here, ain’t he? Well, my daddy is here too.” And when I came around the last curve, I felt like something was pushing me. I wasn’t just running on my own energy anymore.
Chris McCord, 16
Chris McCord plays alto saxophone, runs track and is the drum major in his high
school band. He hopes to be a professional dancer and currently performs with Moving in the Spirit, a nonprofit dance group in Atlanta, Georgia.