CNJ+ March 2025

THE TURNING POINT By Richard Mabey Jr.

Now at 70 and battling Severe Hypertrophic Cardiomyopathy, I am becoming more and more acutely aware that it’s the bottom of the ninth in ning for me. Not to worry, nor to feel sorry for me, for I am now entering the acceptance stage. In September of 1976, I had just turned 23, and graduated from the first class of Sherman Col lege of Chiropractic. I was one of the youngest members of my class. I had taken the accelerated program, wherein a student would forego a full summer break. While I had passed my National Boards, I was not a good test taker for oral exams. I had a ten dency to get really nervous. My palms would sweat, I would actually shake a bit, stutter and stammer when I spoke, and my voice would be filled with a certain quiver. Just that alone, gave the exam takers a tendency to fail me on the oral exam portion of the State Board, which was re quired in addition to passing the written National Boards. My chiropractor, who practiced in a town near Lincoln Park, told me about the State Board of West Virginia. They did not have an oral exam portion of their State Board. Plus, the candidate answered the questions in paragraph form, as op posed to multiple choice. I remember that there were six major written tests for the West Virginia State Board. I got a test score in the 90’s on all six written exams.

I lived on cereal, hot dogs and beans, and the vegetables that people would bring me from their gardens. No joke. I lived a very frugal lifestyle. I struggled for two years. Then one day, I got really sick. I came down with a sore throat that led to strep throat. While talking on the phone with my mom one day, Mom said to me, “Richie, you sound terrible. Do you have a sore throat?” I couldn’t lie. Strep throat is the predecessor of Rheumatic Fever. At 12, I nearly died from a full blown at tack of Rheumatic Fever. It’s a horrible, terrible disease wherein the strep attacks one’s heart. I got very weak. Very weak. I was running a fe ver. Linda came to see me, a couple of times. I remember that she would bring me a bottle of or ange juice. Linda cried when she told me, “Richie, you need to see a doctor. You’re very sick.” To make a very long story short, I did take Lin da’s advice. I had developed a very serious case of strep throat. I was no longer able to see the few patients that I did have. I was running a high fe ver. The last time that Linda came to see me, her dad came with her.

“Son, you need to go back home and rest up,” I remember Linda’s dad telling me. It was the only time that he ever called me “son.” Linda made us all a cup of hot tea, in my little backroom living quarters. We sat at my little card table and drank the hot tea. I remember Linda had put lemon and honey in my tea, to soothe my throat. It’s funny, the things you remember. I promised Linda that I would write her every day. That I would return to Squirrel Valley, when I got well. Some promises are destined to be broken. The next day, Mom and Dad came down to check on me. I knew, in my heart of hearts, it was time to go back to the old Mabey Homestead for a while, to rest, to heal. When I got home, I spent a few weeks in the hospital. About a week, after I got home from the hospital, I got the dreaded letter from Linda. She had begun dating a young man from her church. Someone she had known from the first grade. They had always liked each other and dated a bit in high school. I cried my eyes out after reading that letter. I wrote Linda back and told her that I understood and was genuinely happy for her. In a strange, Twilight Zone kind of way, I was happy for Linda. I never returned to Squirrel Valley. I began writing for the old Lincoln Park Herald. I loved Linda very much and it was not in the cards, to return back to Squirrel Valley. I lost track of Linda. From time to time, I think of her and wonder if she married that young man whom she had known since the first grade. Life is so strange. Sometimes, life isn’t always fair. Richard Mabey Jr. is a freelance writer. He hosts a YouTube Channel titled, “Richard Mabey Presents.” Richard most recently published a book of po etry and short stories. He can be reached at richardmabeyjr@hotmail.com.

Yours truly at 24. I was a very idealistic, sensitive, shy young man.

I was a very idealistic young man. My chiropractic in New Jersey told me, before I journeyed off to West Virginia, to be flexible, to be willing to expand my focus of care beyond the spinal column at times. To be willing to care for sprained wrists and to click in a misaligned elbow, from time to time. But his advice went in one ear and out the other. I was going to be totally focused on caring for people’s spinal columns, and that was that! I opened a practice in the small town of Squirrel Valley, West Virginia. I changed the name of the town, because if I write more about the people of this little town, I just don’t want to get sued. I rented a little store front, and I lived in the back of the store. It was tight quarters to say the least. Squirrel Valley was an unincorporated town. The people were very poor. Very poor. But I was such an idealist. I did have a few patients. A lot of them paid me with corn and tomatoes from their gardens. I had one patient, an older man, who would work on my car and change my oil, in exchange of my adjusting the misalignments in his spinal column. It’s just the way it was. At 24, I fell in love with this beautiful girl who lived in Squirrel Valley. Lin da was two years younger than me. Her mother had passed away when she was 12. She lived with her dad, in a little, humble home. Her father kind of liked me. Our dates consisted of me visiting Linda, having supper with her and her dad. And then the three of us watching television for a little bit. Lin da’s father was very strict and was quite a bit overprotective with her. Linda was the youngest of her siblings. And now, was the only one still at home.

18

CNJ+ | FORMERLY THE MILLSTONE TIMES

MARCH 2025