How Annie Turner Became a Heroine

Charlie Whitsitt and Combine

Copyright, Terry Turner 2009

In the fall of 1945 or 1946, as nearly as I recall I had an NDE ( a near death experience). For me it was death, period. It was an event that left an erasure in my memory and, I think, probably changed my mental and physical structure for all time. By erasure, I mean that I had a life and conscious memory one second, then for a time, who knows how long, I think a day or two, I did not exist, no memories, no feelings, no thoughts, no time, and nothing attaches to that long blank space that was removed from my life.

I do apologize to my readers for yet another improbable story, but I did not choose this nor many other events in my life. In this particular story I am simply the victim and my dear grandmother, Annie Turner, is the absolute heroine of the story --- which is the tale of how I became the Electrified Dancer.

This electric event occurred in the same year in which I was burned in the ditch, and later shot myself with a 22 cartridge. It was an eventful year.

This is yet another memory I am working to replace with pleasant and happy thoughts and, at my age, none too soon.

So this is how I came to be dangling from a radio antenna wrapped around a fifty thousand KV electric transmission line which ran the length of East Second Street in Wichita Falls and went beyond the horizon in both directions. I should say I have no way of knowing anything about the transmission line and that I rely on what I was told after the event (about which I know nothing).

In the spring of the year, a friend was moving from Texas to California. I don't recall his name but I do remember his mother was very tolerant of children and we seem to have a lot of fun racing around her dining table singing some nonsense about "Mabel, Mabel, set the table, and don't forget the red hot sauce" or something similar to that.

Just when they were prepared to drive away for the last time in the late afternoon, a storm was brewing and giant clouds were darkening the skies. My friend dashed from the car to my house and told me that he had left a softball for me under the edge of his house with some other things and he urged me to go gather up the loot before the storm. At that instance a giant bolt of lightening split the sky and fairly shook the ground, the rain started in torrents and he dashed off for the waiting car and I dashed into the house, heeding my Grandmother's voice telling me to get indoors.

The storm raged a long time and everything flooded while high winds dashed down tree limbs willy nilly... a very typical Texas storm. You can imagine that I was not allowed out of the house and due to the winds and lightening was happy to stay near my Grandmother due to the fearsome storm.

The next day dawned bright and clear and I was anxious to have my breakfast and get up to my friend's house to see my new treasure trove, little suspecting that fate was waiting for me.

Annie Turner served me, as almost always, some hot biscuits, gravy, and an egg. She cooked at all hours, sometimes nine meals a day, because her husband, Joe worked strange hours for the railroad as a Fireman on the Fort Worth and Denver Railroad as did her son, William L. "Buddy" Turner who was a brakeman on the same line. Their hours meant we might have hot meals at any hour of the day and night and, Dad, her husband, Joe, liked me to dine with him. Mother, as many women of her day, did not believe a meal could be served without hot bread; the consequence was that I had a huge caloric intake and was a rather giant child.

After breakfast I went dashing over the damp ground, skipping pools of water, shortcutting to the nearby house. I think it was only one or two houses removed from our home, though I don't actually recall the layout of our little neighborhood. I think there was a small Pentecostal Church between our houses.

As I went dashing towards the assigned spot, I did not notice a very long wire dangling before me, so intent was I on the prize. The wire was a long section of radio antennae that had blown loose from a distant tree and managed to get draped over a power line and dangled there, near the edge of the house, a trap for anyone who strayed into contact.

In that era most homes had a wire radio antenna which either ran the length of the eve of the roof of the house or was run along the house and attached to a distant tree or pole. More ambitious people seeking better, wider reception might run these wires a considerable distance tying the wire to trees or anything to gain height and distance. Those of you so young that you do not about the vagaries of trying to tune in a broadcast have no idea how primitive communications of the era were.

At any rate the electrified wire awaited me and I slammed directly into it; my world and mind ceased to exist. I cannot describe the event because for all practical purposes I was dead at that instant with no feeling, memory, or any other sensation.

Apparently I could involuntarily vocalize because my cries attracted a small crowd of neighbors who could not muster the courage to deal with the situation and watched whilst I twisted and turned in my electrified dance.

Somehow Annie Turner, a small woman, became aware of this situation and came on a dead run to my aid. I am told that as she approached me, she knew that the only chance for her or me was to strike me with great force and to carry both of us beyond the wire.

So, mimicking football players, running at full speed she threw a commendable body block at me, and with the momentum of her speed and weight, she carried both of us to safety beyond the wire. 911 was years in the future and, in any case, would have been far too late.

I do not recall that or several days afterwards until I became more conscious of the fact that something horrible had happened and that I had lost toenails, fingernails, and that my mind didn't seem to be the same familiar turf. I could tell you about the pain and confusion but I am sure you can imagine all that... no fun for sure. I cannot say how long I was "out" nor can I say if received any sort of medical treatment, though I think we did employ doctors at the time unless a serious emergency developed.... that idea may amuse some of you as the present custom leans toward seeing a doctor at once for most conditions.

Thereafter, and to this day, I cannot pick up a piece of wire without clearly see both ends and I do not care to work with electricity in any fashion.

I think it changed my "perception" of the world and perhaps made me "see" things differently in the visual sense. One side effect, I think, is that I seem to have a strange effect on electronics, especially my own computer, and sometimes on electrical equipment belonging to others.

I was recently in a doctor's office where he proposed to use some sort of electronic bio magnetic device on me but he had great difficultly launching his machine and calibrating it for the purpose intended. I knew what was happening to his device, at least I believe I knew, but, of course, I said nothing as this invariably leads to a long and complex discussion ending in disbelief or it does not lead to a conversation and ends in disbelief. This is one of those stories like the buffalo attack, which is best left untold.

At any rate, Annie Turner saved my life. No doubt about it. She did so when no one would lift a hand to help me. Thanks, Mom, thanks for all the next sixty plus years.

Addendum, due to questions generated by this story, I add these comments about Annie Turner. She had three children, Dorothy, Ollie, and Buddy. At the time of this event the daughters were married and busy with thier own lives. At the time her husband, Joe William Turner, was alive and her son, William Laverne "Buddy" Turner, were both living at home with her. They were both railroad men, were often away, and Annie was armed with a small 32 pistol which she carried about in her apron. She did not hesitate to brandish it if she did not like the look of someone about the neighborhood. A very small woman, born in 1900, she was indefatigable, never hesitated tackling jobs that were thought the province of men, such as fence building, plowing, digging ditches, or doing plumbing work, or slaughering livestock, and I observed that she almost immune to ordinary pain. I once saw her take a fall which drove a broken old style glass Coca-Cola bottle deep into the bone of her arm. She pried it out with a screwdriver, wrapped in dish cloth and went about her business.

Photo Credit. Source and date unknown, the picture has a note that says Charlie Whitsitt, Annie's father, and Combine. I am guessing it is around 1890-1900. Annie Turner was born in 1900. I put the Whitsitt Wagon here as a place holder as, oddly, I could not find a single picture of Annie Turner. In due course, I will get her photo on this article.