August 27, 1985, Augusta, Missouri
Eleven-year-old Thomas "Timmy" Baxter Nixon (yes, he did get bullies a lot for his last name) was walking down the main street of his home town of Augusta, the smell of the wineries filling his nose, and the sound of the mixtape in his Walkman filling his ears. Taking a left onto Public Street on his voyage to the Post Office to get the new cassettes his mom, Kelly, ordered him for his birthday from Sears, Timmy had no idea what was about to happen.
As Toto's Hold The Line ended and Deep Purple's Space Truckin' began, Timmy realized he had missed his turn onto Chesnut Street. 'Whatever' he thought, 'I'll round the block.'. So, Timmy kept walking... and so did Albert Edward Walker, an escaped convict from the Missouri Eastern Correctional Center, convicted for murdering his wife and two of his three kids in a cocaine-fuled rage. It just so happened that little Timmy Nixon looked nearly identical to the nine-year-old Timothy Walker, the kid who was visiting his grandparents in Augusta at the time of the murder.
Albert Walker slowly unsheathed the Colt M1911 he had stolen from an elderly man near Boles, MO, and pointed the firearm at Timmy's head. Unknown to either, another figure was watching: an angel by the name of J'olwyn (though he prefers Jim). This angel was the one assigned as Timmy's Guardian Angel, and he was about to do some guardian-ing.
As Albert Walker moved to fire the pistol, a nearby lawnmower kicked up a large shard of glass hidden in the grass. As Walker's finger hit the trigger, the shard embedded itself deep into his throat. A shot was fired in shock, but missed Timmy and hit the bed of a passing pickup truck.
Timmy turned around in shock. How had he not realized that a man was intending to murder him? Throwing off his headphones, Timmy ran for the safety of the winery ran by Old Man John Willis (ironically, the grandfather of Timothy Walker).
The angel known as Jim smiled. He knows what he has done, and what the punishment is for these actions. He also knows that what he has done was the right thing to do. Sadly, those above do not look at the moral standpoint; they only see what actions were taken. It does not matter that a life was taken to save an innocent child, all that matters is that a life was taken.
A voice echoed through Jim's head. "YOU HAVE FAILED ME, MY SON!", and Jim could only think "No, you have failed yourself." as he was dragged down to Hell.
November 9, 2011, Culloden, Georgia
37-year-old Thomas Baxter Nixon no longer goes by Timmy. He no longer lives in Augusta, Missouri, instead having found his way through a failed stint in the military to the tiny town of Culloden, Georgia. Here, he lives alone, haunted by the trauma his live has thrown at him.
In 1986, he was forced to stand trial and testify what happened to Albert Walker. Nobody believed that it was a lawnmower that shot the shard of glass off, and instead thought that Thomas had attacked Walker with it when he saw the gun on his hip. Thomas Nixon would spend the rest of his school years in Juvenile Detention.
In 1992, he would be released from Juvie at the age of 18, but would be forced into the military as that was the only place that would accept a 'delinquent'. His superiors found the now Private Nixon to be a model soldier who always followed orders and, when not on duty, kept to himself. So, in 1993, Thomas Nixon would begin making his way up the ranks of the Army, eventually becoming a Seargent. Thus...
On the 5th of October, 1993, the United Nations Assistance Mission for Rwanda would be formed, and Seargent Nixon's superiors would write his name down for him on the volunteers list. Thus, just a month later, Stg. Nixon would be deployed with the UN Peacekeepers to Rwanda.
On the 23rd of December, 1993, Sgt. Nixon would be shot in the arm while defending Tutsi civilians. After the arm got infected and had to be amputated, Thomas Nixon would get an honorable discharge and a Purple Heart for his efforts. He would spend Christmas of 1993 in a US Air Force transport plane on his trip home.
In March of 1994, Thomas would become homeless. He hitchhiked from state to state, finally ending up in the small town of Culloden, Georgia, a nearly 1,600 mile trip from Loring Air Force Base in Maine.
In June of 1994, Thomas would no longer be homeless. An old lady by the name of Maria Campbell found him sleeping in an abandoned school and took Thomas in, letting him live in and work at her bed and breakfast for minimum wage.
In April of 1995, almost a full year since Thomas' life seemed to have turned around, Maria Campbell would be shot and killed in a drive-by shooting by some thugs from nearby Griffin. Thomas would describe Maria as "Like a mother to me, and the one person who always seemed to care" at her funeral.
Thomas would take over the bed and breakfast, and would run it well. His Purple Heart status would come out to the Mayor of Culloden, and on July 4th, 1998, Culloden would become a Purple Heart City.
Things would go to hell again on September 11, 2001, when Thomas was attending a reunion of Purple Heart Receivers of Georgia in New York City. As the first man took the stage, a jet hit the Twin Towers, less than a quarter of a mile away. Thomas and many others at the reunion would run to help those staggering out of the towers, and when the second plane hit the towers, Thomas would be one of many to breathe in the asbestos-ridden air.
Thomas Nixon would receive the Presidential Medal of Freedom for his actions on 9/11, and would bounce around the northeast for a few months, not having enough money to get back to Georgia. He would finally return home after a Norfolk Southern engineer allowed him to stowaway in the DPU of his train.
Thomas would finally return to Culloden, Georgia on March 21, 2002. The trek from Macon to Culloden took longer than he would've liked, but he was finally home. The Bed and Breakfast had been taken by the City of Culloden during his absence, but that was alright. He was home. The paperwork can wait.
Thomas Nixon would get his bed and breakfast back, and would continue to operate it until October 21, 2009, when a routine doctor's appointment for coughing revealed something that would change Thomas' live forever: lung cancer.
Thomas would try various treatments until his latest appointment on October 31, 2011, when he was told that there was nothing that the doctors could do: the cancer was terminal. Thus, we get to present day, where Thomas Nixon is trying his final option in the basement of the Bed and Breakfast that he holds so dear.
I'll write Part Two later.