Myron McNeil:  

I graduated from Wilson in 1968. Went into the US Marine Corps in 1969. I Did a two-year hitch as a MP at Cherry Point Marine Corps Air Station in North Carolina. After being honorably discharged I enrolled at Morris College (Sumter, S.C.) graduating in 1976. I Worked as a Phys. Ed.teacher and as an arts administrator in Sumter before returning to Florence. During the 1980s, worked briefly at Williams Middle School and Southside Middle School before going to the S.C. Department of Disabilities and Special Needs. Worked in that field for 13 years as a Resident Staff, Occupational Training Coordinator and as a QMRP. Worked later at the Timmonsville (S.C.) School District as a teacher's Assistant, ABA Therapist and Social Studies teacher thru 2009. Also worked part-time as a store clerk, tennis coach, warehouse clerk and automobile detailer. I remained single for most of my life, but met and became married to the beautiful Sarah Timmons in 1995. Sarah had a previous son, Brandon. Together, Sarah and I have a daughter, Myrah. We live in Timmonsville (SC). A COLD(CUT) CASE A lot of funny things happen among football players, both on and off the field. The funniest incident that I can recall occurred during my sophomore season (1965) at Wilson High School in Florence (S.C.). The team was on a bus headed to Charleston for a game against the Bonds-Wilson Cobras. We were riding along on U.S.Highway 52 having a lot of fun. Everyone was singing chorus behind Milton Grant. Milton our motivational leader and head comedian. We were singing our favorite song which went to the tune of Cab Calloway's "Minnie The Moocher." These are the words. Down by the river we went for a walk, and we met old Bonds-Wilson and we had a talk, Well hide, hide, hide, ho ho, ho, ho, we gonna beat Bonds-Wilson and we goin' home. So we were rolling along when suddenly the bus started shutting down. We chugged along for a while, then we pulled into this place beside the road. We had landed at a combination store/juke joint/game room/junk yard. As it turned out this was an ideal place for us to break down. There was plenty of room to walk around, pool tables for our amusement, food and drinks in the store, and a telephone. Coach Long (William R.) called for a back up bus. Then he and Coach Willie "Sweet Bill" Smith bought a bunch of bologna and bread for sandwiches. There were probably about fifty of us, so each player was given one slice of bread. With bread in hand the whole team was crowded around the coaches, waiting anxiously for a slice of bologna. I remember holding my bread gently in my left hand so as not to crush it. My hands were down by my side. My attention was focused on the coach and that bologna. Suddenly and quickly, someone snatched my bread right out of my hand. I looked around, expecting to see one of my friends smiling with a playful look on his face. No one was smiling and no one had a playful look on his face. Everyone was strictly business, and all appeared to be oblivious to my plight. I decided to turn around and pursue the man with the bologna like everyone else. After finishing my sandwich without bread, I began asking around. My investigation went nowhere. No one knew anything. The thief was really clever. Not only did he manage to avoid being detected by me, but it appeared that no one else had seen him either. To this day, I still, however, refuse to give up. I am reopening the case. With increases in the cost of living and inflation, a slice of bread should be worth about 11 cents now. If you add to that over 43 years of pain and suffering at one cent per year, I must be owed at least 54 cents. So I'm putting up a reward of 25 cents for information leading the identification of the thief who stole my bread. Anyone with information please call Tommy Hewitt or Archie Gainey (two well known Florence detectives from that era. Both now deceased) You don't have to leave your name. By the time the the replacement bus arrived that night, it was too late to go on to Charleston. We returned to Florence and were instructed to meet at the school the next afternoon. This time we had a fancy chartered bus waiting for us. We rode down to Charleston in comfort and style. We all cheered when we passed the place where we had been stranded the night before. The only other time we made noise that night was when we were passing a billboard which was advertising a certain well known pancake mix. Milton called his good friend, Moses Williams. "Hey Mose," he shouted, "aunt yo mama."Everyone on the bus rolled in laughter, including the coaches and our white driver. The Wilson Tigers arrived on time and looking good on that fancy bus. The Cobras, however, were not impressed. They won the game that night by a score of something like 35-14. Our spirit wasn't dampened for long, however. The next week we were at home to play the Wilkinson Wolverines from Orangeburg. We sang the same old tune with a different school name., and this time we won by a score of 19-14. The second part of the song goes like this: Wilkinson had an old rooster, and they put him on the fence, and the rooster crowed for Wilson cause he had some sense. Hide, hide, hide, ho. Ho, ho, ho, ho We gonna' beat ol' Wilkinson and send em home. We ate Bologna the night that our bus broke down, but that was not our normal road cuisine. In those days the visiting team was usually fed by the host school. In retrospect, this was probably due to two main factors, segregation and a sub par standard of living. There were really not very many places in which the operator was suited or willing to accommodate a bus load of black football players. Also, not all players would have the necessary funds to eat out on five road games every football season. On most of our road trips we ate at the host school's cafeteria. Fried chicken was the standard entree, and we always enjoyed it. Three schools that we played, however, treated us to meals in restaurants. In Orangeburg we ate at a popular little cafe which was located in the black business district down town. It wasn't fancy, but the food was ok. When we went to play Howard High of Georgetown in 1966, they trashed us on the field, but we were treated like royalty after the game. We ate at a restaurant on the river. It was very cozy and the food was really delicious. Each player was given a quarter of fried chicken, mashed potatoes and vegetables. The best place we ever ate perhaps, was Brooks Restaurant in Charleston. Our opponent was Burke High School. They outclassed us on the field, but really showed a lot of class by sending us to Brooks. It was plush with black leather seats and red carpet . Our team had a separate dinning area. The bar in that area was closed but one of our daring players tried the draft beer tap. To our surprise, it worked. Our coaches were dining in another area with the host, so some of our players helped themselves. On the trip back home, players were giddy. None of our losses had ever been absorbed so "painlessly." THE KING ASSASSINATION: Where Were You When You Heard The News? Wesley Burns and I walked to school together every day. We lived across the street from each other, were both seniors in the same homeroom and we both played on the football team. On the morning of April 5, 1968 we were hastily making our way from the east side of town where we lived through north Florence where Wilson High School was located. We were walking north on Roberts Street when Wesley hit ...Expand for more