One year we had a great deal of excitement at our
place. Believe it or not, it had to do with our manure pile.
It seems one time when Mom took a load out to the pile,
she spotted something sticking out of the side. It was a
bag... a BANK BAG... a BRINK'S BANK BAG!!!...
Well, had the police and then the FBI there. When you
are a short teen, tall men in black are very intimating.
But they never could figure out how or why it got there.
And they didn't think it came from the great robbery.
At least that is what they told us. But it was a thrilling
and sometimes not so thrilling time for my Dad, as
they investigated him.
The house was an average house. It was built by
my Dad. We moved in shortly after I was born.
One long living room. A nook like dining room, with
open area towards the kitchen. Also a bedroom,
the folk's on the bottom floor. Hall way from the
front door, around pass the folks bedroom, and
the bathroom, coming out into the kitchen. Making
a complete circle through out the house. And a
racetrack for my brother and I, if we didn't get
When I got older and my brother had joined the family,
they decided to make bedrooms upstairs in what was
the attic. The attic being downsized to the sides behind walls.
Which dad made dressers that were in the walls. Which was
pretty cool, as I could take out the bottom one, that was
long, and go into the attic part. Sometimes taking the
drawer back into place. I could hide there, or go down the
alley of an attic on that side, and scratch on the walls on
my brother's side..scaring the beejees out of him. He
would blast into my bedroom and no one there, drawers
in place.. and then go downstairs crying to my mom
about something scaring him. Something in the walls.
Mom would come up and listen and I would be silent.
When she went back downstairs, I would do it again.
One year, he caught me coming back out of the attic.
Almost killed me. BUT he was great, as he never
told mom of my disappearing act. So when I would
get into trouble, and she came looking for me.. I
could still escape. Which is pretty amazing considering
he is 4 years younger than me.. and his profession in
life was to squeal on me. Which he did very well.
We had the average life of the 40's and 50's. We weren't
exactly a Leave to Beaver family... but pretty average.
And inspite of thinking we would never make it to adult
hood, we did and stayed out of trouble. Out of fear of
our mother.. We didn't care what the possibilities were
of what the police or school could do to us.. it was the
fear of what our mother would do to us. Dad wasn't so
bad.. Mom ruled the roost. And punishment was what
is called child abuse now days... in those days it was
called correcting your kids and putting the fear of God
Funny how when you get to be in your 70's .. you think
those were the good old days.. But I think the 1950's
were. There were jobs, money, people bought houses
and cars and paid cash for the cars and items of need.
Only charging was layaway. For those under 50.. that
is where you had the store put it in their warehouse and
you paid payments until you paid it off and THEN we
got the item.
Hope you didn't mind a walk down memory lane this