THE BITE

Everyone's story needs to be told, doesn't it? The stories that have been passed down from generation to generation deserve to have at least one listening ear. The news story for the day all the way down to the sweet grandmamma rocking her grand baby and telling a story about a made up land far away land until the toddler's eyes are closed in peaceful rest and contentment. Then there is the story being told when a father and his son enjoy a balmy afternoon sitting on the bank of a river as they enjoy a day of fishing and life changing principles.

So it is with this story. This story that happened in a small town in southeast Georgia almost forty seven years ago is one that also deserves to be told. It has in fact already been told in bits and pieces over and over many times. One person remembers this, another remembers that. Nevertheless, it took place and the events that transpired afterwards has had an everlasting effect on not only the victim, but countless of people living now and for generations to come.

One might compare David Wiggins, small town boy with David, the shepherd boy, later on a king in the Bible. They both faced a terrible giant in their early life as a young lad. As the Bible tells us, the shepherd boy, David, was out in a field tending his father's flocks of sheep. The Philistines had sent a "giant" over to kill the Israelites. Using the power of God on his side, David chose some perfect stones to slay the giant thus saving thousands of lives, and making David a hero in the eyes of the Israelite people.

Centuries later, God once again had his hand on another young boy named David. He too was in a field, and although at the time was so unaware, he would face and slay a giant that had been placed in his path.

Sunday, August 6, 1967, was a day that started off like any other day. Many people had gone to church that morning all over the county. It was no different for David Wiggins and his family. Sunday morning had come and gone, and now Sunday afternoon found some of the family members at one place, and the younger members were enjoying an afternoon of frolicking and playing games with one another. It was a lazy afternoon that was being enjoyed by all members of the family even though they were not together.

Times were hard with a family of six to feed. Many times vegetables were cultivated, picked, and prepared for canning or the freezer. The winter months were more endurable with food that had been prepared and put away for those cold winter nights.

Henry and Pearl Wiggins, along with Preston Clifton and young David, eight years old at the time, had gone out to a garden that was located on the old Dwight Kennedy farm just outside of Claxton, Georgia. Corn and peas were to be picked on that day. The evening had passed on. It was hot as usual for a "dog day" in August. These days happen in late July and August, and are referred to as this because they are described as sultry and hot.

It wouldn't be too long before school started. Wanting to enjoy the last few weeks before he would be told what to wear, David was enjoying being dressed for the day wearing shorts and a tee shirt. He was also barefooted, which is what most of children did in the summertime—go barefoot. On this day, it gave him a true sense of freedom which can be experienced in no other way. Shoes would not have put off what was going to happen no doubt. It may have helped a bit, but probably not too much.

The gnats had been swarming and buzzing around the faces of the corn and pea pickers. Walking up and down the rows of the cornfield with precision produced even more gnats. Not to be discouraged by these creatures, corn was being picked as if nothing was anywhere in the vicinity that would have made a mere fluttering or buzzing sound. The family must work quickly so as to make their trip worthwhile. There would be other hands helping when he returned back home. But for right now, David felt responsible for making his gathering of corn count for something.

He had been solicited by his mom and dad to help with the gathering of the vegetables. He took pride in being the one that was chosen this time to help. He felt like he was a "big man" taking responsibility for his little brothers and sister. He was helping to take care of his family. His role in this procedure was to pick up the corn that his daddy had just broken off from the stalk and thrown to the ground. He obeyed his daddy, and tossed the corn inside the basket that he was carrying.

"Oh be careful little feet where you go, oh be careful little feet where you go, for the Father up above is looking down with love, oh be careful little feet where you go." David had heard this song many times. He had first heard it in Sunday school. He would tap his foot to the beat, and when he sang the line "for the Father up above is looking down with love", he would take his finger and point it up to the sky. Oh how David's feet did go. How he loved to follow behind his daddy, which is just what he was doing on this day. He would go step by step, stride by stride—always being careful to stay inside the footprint of his dad.

Not outside of the print one little bit, but inside so he could be protected not harmed by outside forces. "I'll stay close to Daddy," David thought. One will never know if on this day David did decide to veer off the path of his daddy's shoe print—maybe, maybe not. Besides the scream which came soon thereafter, the next sound that was heard was his daddy shouting, "He's been bit!"

THE AFTERMATH

David had indeed been bitten three times. The rattlesnake was hidden, and hidden very well. Did David really see the snake—probably not. He had felt something though. He wasn't quite sure what it was. He thought maybe it could have been a bee or even a wasp sting. He had even come in contact with a briar patch before while picking blackberries. But this sharp, prickly stab was no comparison to that. It was quick, precise, intended for a specific target. If the bull's eye of that target just happened to be on David's lower extremities, then the mark was well hit.

Besides David's scream which came soon thereafter, the next sound that was heard was his daddy shouting, "Pearl, my God, he's been bitten three times!" While he still had his wits about him, Henry Wiggins reached out to scoop David up in his arms. As he bent down to get him, the snake thrust his slender body which resembled a tire towards him in another attempt to strike again.

She missed, and the same basket that David was using to put the corn in was quickly thrown over the still defensive snake. If it had not been covered up, a most certain verdict would have been another bite to have come quickly after the first three.

Trying again to get both Pearl and Preston's attention, he hollered once more, "He's been bit!" Realizing the gravity in Henry's anguished words, they went to the exact location where he and David were standing just in time to see him put his son on the hood of their pick-up truck.

It didn't take long, and it was soon realized that something had to be done, and done quick. Being a butcher by trade, Henry went right to work, and started making an incision across one of the places where the fangs punctured the skin on David's leg by using what he had on hand—his own pocket knife. He was successful for the first one.

However, this was no hog or cow he was about to cut, but his own flesh and blood. With that thought in mind, he pulled back, and loaded David up to take him to the nearest hospital. Amazingly, the bite that Henry had cut was the one that gave David the least amount of trouble later on.

The corn field was not near the road. To get there, you had to go past the old cow barn, down to where you could see the cows grazing in the grass. They were all down there, but now they must with lightening speed get back to the main road.

With David securely in the truck, and Henry at the wheel, it was Pearl's job to jump off the back of the truck and unlatch each gate. Actually, she didn't just jump off the back of the truck. She was described as "rolling" off the back of the truck. She knew her son's life was at stake.

As the truck went through, she latched the gate shut again. This same repetition was played out over and over again for what seem like an eternity. There was four gates altogether down that long lane or farm vehicle trail. After the fourth gate was securely shut, Henry and his passengers made their way back to where they had left the other children, at their Uncle Preston and Aunt Marjorie's house.

As the truck pulled up in front of the house, Pearl once again "rolled" out of the truck and said, "David's been bit by a snake!" The truck which transported David got to the hospital in approximately eight minutes. The remaining children were loaded up in another vehicle to follow them to the hospital. They anxiously waited outside, not knowing what was going on inside.

David had been carried to what was then known as Dr. Griffin's Clinic. At that time, there was no official hospital in the city of Claxton. This clinic had only two antidotes for snake bites which could only be given with a doctor's approval. There was no doctor on call when David arrived.

There was one doctor who was associated with Dr. Hames' Clinic in Claxton. He would be able to approve this antidote. He was playing golf. He took time to get off of the golf course, and give the orders to expend the medicine. After doing this, he returned to his game of golf.

A call was made to Memorial Hospital in Savannah. The Lord had already prepared them. There just happened to be a doctor completing his internship, and he was specializing in the study of poison. For the first twenty four hours after he had been bitten, David was to be given one shot of the antidote per hour.

It was decided that a transfer to Memorial Hospital would be the best thing to do. It was at this time that finally someone came out of the clinic to tell the siblings what had happened to their big brother, and that he would be going to a bigger hospital some fifty miles away from home.

But that was not before David had died for the first time.

THE AMBULANCE RIDE AND HOSPITAL STAY

Evans County, Georgia, did not have a hospital back in August of 1967. Due to this, David was loaded up in the local funeral home's 1965 Cadillac S & S hearse. The owners offered their vehicle to the public to make up for the lack of a true ambulance service.

A hearse is what is used to carry the body of a dead person. This one was driven by Murray NeSmith. Colquitt NeSmith, his brother, accompanied him in the passenger's seat. While it was apparent that David's condition was very grave, he certainly was not dead.

Someone asked the ambulance drivers what their incentive was to be going in such a hurry. There was definitely an incentive. It was for the sole purpose of having a chance to save the life of young David Wiggins. His Uncle Charles rode in the ambulance with him. David said to his uncle, "Please don't let me die." His Uncle Preston followed soon thereafter.

When they rounded the corner on Highway 280 by the George Nedar house on the outskirts of Evans County, David felt himself getting nauseous. He broke out into a sweat. He also had chills and a fever. The snake venom was getting into his blood stream, and it was giving him a sickening feeling.

The ambulance started the journey to Savannah, Georgia, on Highway 280. This trip would to take about 55 miles of driving. Interstate 16 was just being built, but it was not yet open. Midway to Savannah, the orange barrels were rolled back, and ambulance and its passengers traveled the rest of the way on the interstate highway. The caravan had a police escort leading the way for them to get through traffic more speedily. David could see the yellow drums and other barricades.

David rose up in the hearse and what he saw gave him the most eerie feeling. The cars were pulled off the road and parked on the sides out of respect. They were waiting for the hearse to pass by. Was it because they had been warned ahead of time that there was a crucial victim inside, or was it because they thought the hearse carried a lifeless body?

Within the span of just a few minutes, David would succumb to death at least two more times.

By the time they made it to the emergency room at Memorial Hospital in Savannah, David's right leg was swollen to the size of his thigh. He went straight to the operating room. Trying to relieve the pressure on his leg, and to also keep it from rupturing, the surgeons made a ten to twelve inch incision on his leg.

After he came out of surgery, he was moved upstairs to intensive care. He was packed in ice from the waist down. The incision stayed open for approximately two weeks and kept in a sterile towel. The doctors had to take skin grafts off of his upper leg. His leg was a very dark color, almost black. He had lost a lot of flesh on his leg.

They put him near the nurses' station so a careful watch could be placed on him. During this time, David heard the nurses say that he was probably going to die. This was a very strong statement for a little eight year old frightened boy to hear.

It was then that he realized that death is real. His mama and daddy told him that he was not going to die. He was going to fight. It was here at the hospital that David became under great conviction about his spiritual well being. He knew he needed to make a decision about his life.

On the following Tuesday, which would have been August 8, 1967, David was again taken to surgery. This time it was for them to amputate his right leg. The doctor encouraged the parents to pray that this would not be the fate that he would have to suffer.

After all was said and done, when David came out of surgery, he still had his leg. He did, however, have to have his three toes amputated. This was a small price to pay for what could have been.

Back then, the rules of the hospital were such that children could not visit the patients. At one time, it was said that Pat Wiggins, David's sister, had asked if her brother had died. Shortly thereafter, her family smuggled her up to the Third Floor Children's Wing to disprove what she thought had happened to him. He was in room 313B of the children's ward; right next to the refreshment center.

Jeffrey and Jerry remember going to see David in the hospital. He pulled back the hospital bed sheet for them to see his leg. It was a big open gap in his leg. His body was black from the waist down.

In January, they did reconstructive surgery on the sole of his foot. He went back to the hospital in the summer of 1968 to have surgery on his foot and toe. He was in the hospital for several months. He went from dying, to having no right leg so he wouldn't be able to walk, and finally to losing three toes. He also had skin grafts.

Many trips were made back to the hospital for therapy. He had to return to the hospital at least once a week. He went to Savannah. During his hospital stay he had four specialists working with him: a pediatrician, a muscle specialist, a snake-bite specialist, and an orthopedic specialist.

When he first went in the hospital, David weighed 100 pounds, and was a stocky fellow. When all was said and done, he had lost a total of thirty pounds, and inherited a much slender build.

To this day, David does walk with a slight limp. He has had some bouts with phlebitis. His leg resembles what would look like the leg of a burn victim with darkening scar tissue that still remains.

While he was in the hospital, David received hundreds of cards and gifts. Many people gave them cash donations, and some doctors didn't charge for their services.

WAS SHE OR WASN'T SHE?

One might not think much about the snake playing a role in this legacy other than being the snake that bit David. However, other than David himself, the snake is the most important component in this situation. Had there not been a snake, there wouldn't have been a bite. Had there not been a bite, David would have just been a normal, run of the mill kid. As it were, there was a snake, and there was certainly a bite. His life was radically changed; forever.

The day David was bitten; all the attention was placed on getting him to the hospital for life saving measures to begin. No one really thought of looking for the snake at the time. Henry did have enough mind about him to situate the vegetable basket on top of the snake that was just waiting to strike anything that decided to step in its path again.

The dramatic scene that had just taken place was now cleared. The main characters in the "would-be" horror story had disbursed. The stillness of the field returned as it was before the sudden episode of terror.

The snake that bit David was doing nothing short of what she should have been doing—protecting her young. She was an Eastern Diamondback Rattlesnake that was for sure. These snakes are the largest rattlesnakes in the world. They are also the most deadly in North America. They are usually four to five feet long. It really would not have made any difference what kind of snake it was, the protection factor would have still be put into place when his foot did indeed come in contact with her.