Chapter 2

Childhood

Now my memory begins to come into focus. I remember living in the house on Oakdale when Karen came home from the hospital. It was a big event because for some reason many people were coming by the house and staying with us when dad worked. Mom came home with Karen and Bert and I got to move down stairs!

In 1946 Uncle Hank came home from the war. He was our hero because he played with us and would take us for rides in his brand new 1946 Plymouth convertible. Uncle Hank lived with us for a short while and when he got a job in the oil fields he moved into his own apartment.

Mom and Dad had made many friends of the GIs stationed at Walker AFB. So my first memory of a trip was when the family drove back to Connecticut and Staten Island to visit. I only remember one ladies name; it was "Floe" in Hartford, Connecticut. (Probably a Florence!) I remember the house on Staten Island was one half level below the sidewalk and we liked standing at the bottom of the stairs and watching the people walking above. They gave us a bottle of that soapy solution and a loop to blow bubbles. And we did. We blew bubbles at the people walking by. Soon we were in trouble again. Who? Well Bert and I of course.

After we left the Far East coast we traveled past the Finger Lakes in New York State. I will always remember that because the water looked so green. It was a lush green forest around the lakes and many people were playing there in swimming areas and in sailboats. The rest of the trip is a blur to me now but those were the things that impressed a seven-year-old boy.

A few years after our trip to the East-Coast Mom and Dad took on the project of building their own house. They bought a lot at 109 South Culp Street. The next thing I remember is that we moved into Grandma and Grandpa's house on 741 East Third Street.

Grandma had a great big garden in the lot next door and there was a barn, storage shed and an outhouse in the backyard. Grandpa just completed putting indoor plumbing in the house and Great Grandma was still saying, "Why put such a tinky ting in the house. She still chose to use the outhouse. Great Grandma was from Sweden and taught us this little limerick to go along with the digits on our hands. "tum-uh-tut, slicky put, long uh mon, jacklie haun, und little wennie wicker stocker haun"

Bert and I found all kinds of things to do while Mom and Dad were working on their house. The outhouse was too much of a drawing card for us. We used to make imitation swords and stick them down a toilet hole in the outhouse. Then we would run after each other trying to wipe some of the dung on each other. Fortunately we never contacted each other. (I don't think?) Bobby Baird lived next door. He was a mentally handicapped boy younger than Bert and I. We were painting Grandpa's fence green when Bobby Baird came over and started asking all kinds of questions. We told him that the paint was a preservative and it would really help his penis if we preserved it. So he unzipped his pants and presented it. We painted it. In trouble again.

One day we let the air out of Grandpa's car's tires. Great fun, except he had a way with boys. He handed us a bicycle tire pump and told us to pump the tires up. That kept us out of his hair for the rest of the day.

On July 4^th Grandpa took us over to Uncle Tommy's gas station and trailer park and bought us some firecrackers. (We made many trips to get more.) We went back to their house and he showed us how to light one, we caught on fast. We went around in grandma's garden putting firecrackers under a tomato and watching the big splatter when it exploded. Soon grandma caught on and we expelled sent from the garden. Then we took a tin can and placed a firecracker under it. When it went off the can went straight up in the air. Grandpa just watched in amazement.

Another day when we were feeling restless and we were setting in front of the house watching cars drive by. One would have spoked wheels, the next solid wheels and then there were the ones with "nady nady" wheels. A plan came into our minds. We went into grandma's garden and got a couple of squash. Then the next car with "nady nady" wheels got it. We threw the squash at the car hitting it right on the windshield. It was the Lewis family living in the, "basement only", house a block up the street. The man stopped and came right to the door and knocked. Grandpa answered the door and we ran. After he got the story he came looking for us. He brought us out front and told us to wash the man's car. They both watched making sure we washed the mud from under the finders. Grandpa apologized to the man and he drove on. After this event Grandpa gave us what for with stern admonishment not to do that again. We learned a lot from Grandpa.

Grandpa's house had many remnants from its heritage as a farmhouse. The barn, the outhouse, and the old hen house all told of its past. The barn was always an interesting thing to us. The main doors were hinged with huge blacksmith made hinges and they were about ten feet high and six feet long each. When swung open the doorway was about twelve feet wide and ten feet high. The main room inside was huge. There was a belfry looking ceiling with a rope hoist for lifting large loads. I don't know what its purpose was. The barn's backside was only a couple of feet from the alley separating their yard from the neighbors. This barn was eventually torn down and much of the wood was used to build Uncle Tommy's house in the lot next to Grandpa's. Along with the removal of the barn the outhouse was removed. Such a loss!

Somewhere around this time Mom's brother, Uncle Tommy" was called to Korea. Grandpa bought him a pistol for protection. I remember them going out for target practice. I think it made Grandpa feel better. Uncle Tommy parked his trailer house in Grandma's garden lot between his house and Mr. Schmidt's house. This lot was sold or given to Uncle Tommy after he returned from Korea.

While we were living with Grandma and Grandpa we were only a few blocks from the Russell Municipal swimming pool. We used to walk to the pool barefooted. I still remember the cement being hot on our feet but we managed to make it there anyway by stepping on people's lawns or anything to get those feet off of the cement.

Grandpa and Grandma's house was only four blocks north of our house being built. Mom and Dad seemed to spend all of their time at the house. The street connecting the corner of Oakdale and Culp Street was one block from Highway 40. Between Highway 40 and Third Street was an unfinished portion of Culp Street. Bert and I soon found our way from Grandma's using the unfinished road to go to the house building project. The unfinished Culp Street was a muddy road passing directly through a flowing creek. It was always muddy. So were we! The street also passed by "Sommers" junkyard. We were always looking in the yard at the "used" cars. Old "Jake" who owned and ran the junkyard was a real recluse. He lived in a building that served as his office, shop and home. He had an eye for unique things and he had picked up parts of B29 bombers when the Walker AFB closed down. I saw those blowers and generators with official looking labels on them, setting around for years. If he made any money it wasn’t from bomber parts.

Bert and I were helpers on the house project. Can you imagine! One time Bert was sawing a board, holding it down by standing on it. The saw cut through the board and Bert's shoe and his big toenail. After his initial jumping around Mom took all four of us to the doctor's office for repairs. (A trip made often! And she always took us all.) This particular trip was to identify another problem for our family. The doctor took small notice of the toe cut but notice that Phyllis was presenting symptoms of another dreaded illness of the time. She had the early signs of Polio. He turned his attention to her and bandaged Bert's toe.

Another time we were helping build the forms around the foundation by placing diagonal braces and driving stakes in the ground to hold the form vertical. I was helping by walking on the top form board and watching the activity. Unfortunately I fell off of the form board and landed on a support stake. It punctured my back near the kidney, another trip to the doctor's office.

As the project progressed we became more of a nuisance. The main floor joists and sub-flooring had been installed and the cast iron plumbing was being set up for the sinks and toilets. A test for the inspectors revealed a leek. I remember Dad crawling under the house using a trap door in the furnace room. He was in a hurry and when he came back out he hit his head on an I-beam, cutting his scalp to the bone. Blood flew everywhere. Back to the doctor's office. Phyllis tells me that Bert and I used to give guided tours of the basement and told scary stories of ghosts and bad things that lived down there.

We were getting used to this regular trip to the doctor's office. The project labored on and on. Soon we were in a position to move from Grandma and Grandpa's into the new house. The lath and plastering was done, the finished floors were in, one bathroom was in working order and we moved into the garage. There was still much unfinished. The floors needed to be sanded and finished, the electrical needed to be finished, the appliances needed to be installed and so on. Dad was out of vacation and we moved in with Mom as foreman and chief carpenter. She finished roofing the house with the help of two boys carrying flats of shingles to her after climbing up the ladder. We also finished installing asphalt siding and painting the house. The finishing touch was the "Kentucky bluegrass" style of white wood rail fence around the yard.

Another idea came into the picture. In those days a clothes dryer was a clothesline. Dad had a better idea. He came up with a rotating clothesline. It was made up of a vertical 4" oil well casing pipe with a Model "T" front wheel bearing welded on top of the pole. Then about six feet from the top of the pipe hung a set of four 1 1/2" pipes arranged like spokes in a wheel. They were welded to a metal ring that fit snugly around the vertical pipe. This whole assembly was held up by diagonal and vertical support rods rising from the ends of the spoke like pipes to the Model "T" front-end wheel bearing assembly. Clothes line wires were then stretched from pipe to pipe in parallel rows. It was quite an ingenious device. One could stand still and rotate the clothes past oneself. Putting clothes on or taking them off were considerably easier than walking along a linear line while dragging a basket of clothes and clothes pin bag. It never really caught on because the electric clothes dryer hit the market soon after.

But… Bert and I found a great use for it. We tied rope from the clothesline spokes and then to a bushel basket, suspending it about two feet from the ground. Then we put Karen in the basket and gave her merry go round rides. It really worked great until one day we got too exuberant spinning the rotating clothesline too fast. The centrifugal force swung the basket out farther and farther until it hit the side of the house. Down came Basket, siding, Karen and all. It wasn't so much fun anymore. Karen had a headache and bloody nose. We used some of the leftover siding and tried to repair some panels (didn't get them all!) and except for Karen's black eyes, "who was to know"?

I had a used bicycle and it was a real piece of work. One of the tires had a very thin spot and I tied a rag around the tire to protect the tube. The bike was also missing the chain guard and quite often my pants leg would get tangled up between the chain and sprocket. So I always rolled up my right pant leg when riding the bike. I used to ride my bicycle over to grandpa's house. It was only a four-block trip but I crossed US Highway 40 on the way. I used to stop at the corner of Culp and Hwy 40 and watch the big Pacific Intermountain Express (PIE) trucks roar by. They did not slow down much for the little town of Russell. When the road was clear I would ride like the wind for the other side of the highway. I remember one day I didn't look so good and I rode out onto the highway and almost hit a PIE truck in the side of the big trailer. I thought fast and made a tight right "U" turn. I landed in the ditch. I did not tell anyone but of course, in our little town, everyone found out and I was in trouble again.

We visited Grandma and Grandpa often. As winter approached, and snow started falling, other amusing things started happening. Mr. Schmidt, living next door, got his pickup stuck in his driveway. Being a very creative man he put the truck in reverse and stepped out and then began pushing it toward the street. The truck started to move and he tried to get in to stop it. He slipped on the running board and the truck continued to back across the street and into a deep ditch. Now the truck was really stuck. Bert and I got a big laugh from that experience.

Some time later, in the ending weeks of sixth grade, I came down with measles. The childhood illness was fairly uneventful but right after recovery from the measles I came down with Encephalitis. There were several young people who came down with Encephalitis that year. One died and the others were terribly disabled from the illness. Doctor White and Pettyjohn were not to give up on me. I was given many experimental procedures including a spinal tap to drain off spinal fluid to reduce pressure on the brain. Somehow I survived. I remember spending the summer in a lounge chair on the back porch. I remember Bert building an electric car that operated from a post in the center of a circular path around the post. The post served as a distributor for electricity from a wall outlet to the car's motor. This was a fairly ingenious device for a young inventor.

Several years later one summer I was allowed to do a little more. The doctor said that I was to remain cool but it was a hot summer. So, somehow it was determined that I would go to the Colorado Springs area with R.C.Williams' parents. Their son R.C. was two years my senior. But we had a great comradery while there. R.C. had his driver's learning permit. We spent a lot of time driving around in their 1955 Ford hardtop Victoria. It was red and white and had dual Hollywoods. The sounds from those mufflers echoed from the canyon walls as we motored along. I learned to love that sound. Another of our favorite pass times was going down to the lake in early morning and taking out the rowboat for a little mid-lake fishing. It was so cool, the lake was warm and fog hung over the water as we rowed along. I had many fond memories of those times but the one I remember the most was when the girl from Pratt came with her parents for a visit. We were shoveling dirt into ruts as they arrived. I remember trying to impress her by shoveling fast as the drove by. What an idiot!

After that summer it was back home again. Living in the house at 109 South Culp was the formation of my soul. It is where I played as a child and became aware of the good and bad in the world around me.