My granddaddy was Sandy C. Robinson, Sr. He was born Sovannus C. Robinson, but he didn’t like his name, so he changed it.
I was six years old when I discovered that my grandfather was special. That was when I found out that he had the power to heal. When I was six, I found out that bed-wetting was not acceptable. Every night I would say the prayer that my mother taught me. “Now I lay me down to sleep. I pray the Lord my soul to keep. If I should die before I wake, I pray the lord, my soul to take”. Then I would pray extra hard, “Lord please don’t let me pee in the bed tonight”.
I prayed that prayer every night, and every night, I wet the bed. I just didn’t know how God could save my soul when I was suffering from peeing in the bed. But, I prayed and believed that He was going to help me, so I lay down to sleep and dreamed that I was using the bathroom and not wetting the bed. Then, my sweet dreams would turn to cold and wet , and I would awake to find myself lying in a puddle of pee.
While I was somewhat ashamed and didn’t like the feel of lying in a wet bed, I resolved to continue to pray until Sweet Jesus answered my prayers, but my mother decided that she had to do something to remedy the problem. Her remedy was the horror that made me pray harder but pee more. You see, she felt that if she told me that she would hang my wet sheets out for the world to see, I would miraculously stop. Well, she was wrong. This threw me in such a tizzy until my demure grandfather sought me out to determine the cause of my sudden nervousness and agitation. Stunned that Granddaddy asked, I blurted out my troubles. That night he came to my bedside with a foul smelling concoction that he demanded that I drink. The taste was worse than the smell, but I drank. He then said, “You won’t pee in the bed again.”
Really? Did my granddaddy really have the power to make me stop wetting the bed? This is what I asked as I drifted off to sleep, without saying my prayers, without praying extra hard to stop wetting the bed and as I thought, “I hope I don’t die before I wake.” I awoke the next morning to dry sheets. I jumped out of the bed and ran to Granddaddy’s house. “Granddaddy, I didn’t wet the bed”. He looked at me with that sly smile on his face. “Granddaddy, what did you give me?” He had mentioned the name the night before but now I was interested. “Swamp Root”, he said. He even told me where it came from. He had made it himself.
I didn’t really care where it came from. I was just happy that I had been cured. Who was granddaddy? How did he cure me? To me, my granddaddy held some secrets that no one else knew about. He was magical. He was probably even a prince from a faraway land. Yes, Uncle Zan, as he was known, was somebody special, and I was determined to find out who he was!