I Hate Reruns.
Busy with Trick or Treating stuff. So in the Halloween spirit I'm reprinting a blog I wrote last summer. It's a great Halloween story. If you've never read this one before enjoy. If you have tough luck , nothing new for you tonight.
I know this is the utter heights of laziness but then again I'm a lazy man.
HAPPY HALLOWEEN



The Martians are coming! The Martians are coming!

The day before Halloween 1938 a young man named Orson Wells made an adaptation of the classic H.G. Wells novel War of the Worlds for the radio. To make it more dramatic he decided to broadcast it in the form of news broadcasts. A portion of the audience concluded that it was hearing an actual news account of an invasion from Mars. People packed the roads, hid in cellars, loaded guns, even wrapped their heads in wet towels as protection from Martian poison gas, in an attempt to defend themselves against aliens. Many water towers were shot that evening by people believing they were Martian tripods attacking them. It would later be called The Night That Panicked America. It seems every year since radio stations rebroadcast it as a Halloween treat.
On the day before Halloween 1971 , at the tender age of 6 I knew none of this. All I knew or cared about was that for some reason the area I was living in was splitting trick and treating up into 2 nights, October 30, and of course October 31. I bugged my parents into letting me go on both nights and eventually they caved in. So on that beautiful Saturday evening my father took me to the side of town where trick or treating was allowed.
On the way there Dad kept fumbling with the radio trying to find a station that wasn't playing "That damn rock and roll". He stopped when he found a news broadcast about some "explosions" on the planet Mars. I was too excited about the prospect of all that extra candy to really listen too closely. My Dad listened with a slight smile on his face.
We got to where we were going and I got out and ran to a few houses. My goal was to fill my pillow cushion full with candy. It took just a few minutes for me to hit the few houses on that street with their lights on. As I got back into the car Dad was still listening to that news station. He told me that a "huge flaming object " had just landed on a farm in New Jersey. Dad said he thought it was a meteor. A big one.
Now this got my attention. Like most 6 year old boys , 2 things interested me, Astronomy, and Dinosaurs.
As Dad drove to the next block he said "It's probably nothing."On the radio,the reporter and some famous scientist(who I had never heard of before) were driving out to see it. The scientist kept saying he was sure it wasn't from Mars.
"That's Good" dad said.
As we got to the next block I was a little less eager to get out, now really interested in what was going on. But the call of candy could not be denied .I ran up and down the block in record time getting all the candy that could be gotten. I had almost forgotten about the meteor when I got back in the car. It seemed the reporter and scientist had gotten to the field where it had crashed while I was out trick or treating.(pretty good timing on their part.)As Dad drove(slowly) to the next block over all hell broke loose.
It was beginning to turn out that this was no meteor! This might be a spacecraft of some sort!
"I knew it" Dad said.
I was now in no hurry to get out and trick or treat anymore. As the reporter talked the top of the "craft" opened. The reporter described the aliens coming out of the ship.
"Good heavens, something's wriggling out of the shadow like a gray snake," he said, in an appropriately dramatic tone of voice. "Now it's another one, and another. They look like tentacles to me. There, I can see the thing's body. It's large as a bear and it glistens like wet leather. But that face. It...it's indescribable. I can hardly force myself to keep looking at it. The eyes are black and gleam like a serpent. The mouth is V-shaped with saliva dripping from its rimless lips that seem to quiver and pulsate....The thing is raising up. The crowd falls back. They've seen enough. This is the most extraordinary experience. I can't find words. I'm pulling this microphone with me as I talk. I'll have to stop the description until I've taken a new position. Hold on, will you please, I'll be back in a minute."
It's nothing short of a miracle that I didn't pee my pants.
Within a few short minutes the reporter was back. The reporter sounded afraid, and Dad kinda looked afraid. The reporter was now talking about 3 guys walking up with white flags as a show of friendship for the Martians."What?"Dad said. "You can't trust any Martians!"
It seemed Dad was right. The Martians promptly shot some ray beams at the 3 guys, and then turned it on the rest of the crowd. The reporter talked about the ray moving toward him. Then static.
I was now very very scared. Dad put his hand on my shoulder, looked me in the eye and said "World's coming to an end. You need to get all the candy you can. It may be all the food we have to live on." With a trembling lip I got out of the car and ran as fast as I could from house to house. The people at the door were treated to a crying ghost begging for candy. I finished that block in record time.
By the time I finished the second block the Martians and petty much destroyed our Army and Air-force. As I got back from the third and last block they were marching on New York City. A new reporter described the Martians spraying gas and the residents were "Running like rats into the east river."
" I hope we have enough candy to live on "Dad said very sadly. Dad then turned the radio off saying he just couldn't listen anymore." Lets go home before the Martians start spraying gas."
My brothers and sister were sitting in the living room watching, "It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown".The front door flew open and I came tearing in screaming at the top of my lungs. I ran up the stairs and into my bedroom. As I dove under the bed it never occurred to me that no one else seemed bothered by the end of the world.
It was only a few minutes later that my Mom came upstairs and told me that it was all a cruel joke. It was nothing more then a old radio broadcast. Her Dad was fooled by it 33 years earlier. It was just Dad "having some fun with me."
Oh yeah and everyone was downstairs eating my candy.
Looking back on it, was I upset and embarrassed? You bet. But every year after , until well after college, a Halloween never went by without me catching "War of the Worlds" on some radio station.
And I did get a record amount of candy that night.

Carter

For anyone who cares Mark now has a healthy new son. His name is Carter Andrew Morrell. He came into this earth weighing 8 pounds 13 ounces. He is 21 and 3/4 inches long.
He also has wide duck like feet.

Bubba Ho-Tep
Hey for those of you out there that are tired of seeing the same ole movies all the time let me recommend one for you. It's called Bubba Ho-tep

Check it out.

I'm going to jump around a bit while I get some things settled and get my kids ready for Halloween. Also I'm going to rewrite the two blogs where I get shot and run my arm though the (god darned) French doors. So until then I'm going to write some smaller stand alone stories.



I Make Cookies


In late September 1977 we had moved to the small town of Atkinson, Illinois. Dad had stopped drinking and was now the head administrator of the Good Shepard Foundation an Alcohol and Drug abuse clinic. I was now in 7th grade. Geno and John had graduated from high school and now worked at a couple of local factories. Rose had ran away from home for the 17th time in 2 years. Dad would spend his nights driving around trying to find her. (I'm not sure why. Like an alley cat she'd always come home when she was tired and hungry.) To help out at Dad's work Mom would go in with him to the office and act as his secretary.
What did all this mean to me?
It meant when I got home for school I was alone for anywhere from 30 minutes to an hour. I didn't mind all that much. It gave me some quality time with Dad's extensive Playboy collection, and also time to saw a little bit everyday though Geno bed. I was curious how far I could saw though the side beam before it would fall apart.(It was in the middle of the night in December when the bed finally gave way.)
Mom working did mean that there were no cookies ready for me when I got home everyday. My Mom was a great cook.(Except for pork chops. It was criminal what she did to those) And other then pies her best work was her cookies. When she made a batch of cookie dough she made enough to cook for a week. Unfortunately she wasn't getting home in time to make cookies. So the cookie dough was going to waste in the fridge.
The beautiful chocolate chip cookie dough.
So one day after I was done sawing Geno's bed for the day I stood in the kitchen thinking, "Wouldn't it be nice if I made cookies for everyone before they got home?"
I had seen Mom do it plenty of times. I knew exactly what to do. I grabbed a cookie sheet out of the cabinet, and opened the fridge and took out the cookie dough Mom had made. I looked at the oven and tried to remember what Mom set it.
"375", I thought . That sounds right.
I turned the knob on the gas stove to 375. I waited a second then opened the door to see if it was lit.
All I heard was a hissing noise.
Hmmmmm. That's not right. I looked around and found some matches. Very carefully I opened the door and threw another lit match in. I slammed the door shut. A minute went by. I opened the oven door again.
Hisssssssssssss.
Damn.
Maybe I need to turn it up? I looked at the knob. Maybe 450? I turned it to 450 and opened the door and tossed another match in. I watched the match burn out.
Hisssssssssssss.
I took one more look. Maybe broil? Maybe that's what I put it at to light it? I turned the knob to broil.
HISSSSSSSSSSSS.
I opened the door with a lit match in my hand. Before I tossed the match in I noticed on the bottom of the oven floor a little hole.
HISSSSSSSSSSSSS.
I bet that is where the match goes. I leaned down and put the match in the hole.
BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!
A huge fireball erupted towards my face. I straightened up in a shot and slammed the door shut. My heart was beating very fast. I felt my face. It wasn't burned.
Thank God , I thought.
I looked over at the cookie sheet and cookie dough. To hell with it I thought. This isn't worth it. I put everything back and turned the oven to off. I was still standing in the kitchen when Mom and Dad came home. I stood there trying to do my best to look calm and cool. Mom came into the kitchen carrying a grocery bag. Dad was right behind her.
"How was school", she asked.
" Fine", I said.
Mom was about to say something else when she got a look of horror on her face. Even Dad looked startled.
"Oh My God ! What happened to you?" I had never heard her shout before.
"What", I said with a forced smile, not realizing that my eyebrows were all but gone and there was smoke coming from my hair.
"You've been in a fire!"
Knowing that the jig was up I told Mom what had happened, almost crying while I did so. She looked very angry and told me to go upstairs and take a bath. Feeling very humiliated I slunk out of the room, and went up the stairs to the bathroom. Before I went into the bathroom I heard the downstairs door open and Geno and John came in.
I kept thinking ,"I'm in so much trouble. I'm dead meat."
I washed my hair in the bathtub. My hair didn't smell bad until the water touched it. It reminded me of the smell of a burning rat. I began to feel very sorry for myself.
When I heard the laughter erupt from the downstairs I knew I wasn't in all that much trouble. Turns out my family thought it was the funniest thing they had ever heard. I would send the next few weeks being the butt of many jokes. Even Rose made fun of me after Dad found her and dragged her home. It took a long time for me to live down what happened with those cookies.
Two good things did come out of it.
I ended up with a cool hair style. The fire gave me a weird punk kind of haircut. Everyone asked me where I got it. I told them I did it myself. For a short while everyone was in awe of me.
The second thing was until well after I was in high school, Mom always made sure that there was fresh cookies waiting for me when I came home. She told me she didn't want to take any chances.

Mark Tries to Catch the Train

OK. I'm all done with sad stuff for a while. But for the record , yes as far as I know the Teddy Bear is still there in the attic. I've driven by the house a few times and it's in bad shape. A lot of damage to the roof. Surprisingly it's still lived in. I've thought of going there a few times however to check and see if the Bear is still there.
The last time was around 7 years ago. The house was empty and for rent. My thought was to see if I could rent it out for one night and have a Halloween party there. I thought it was a great idea. It was greeted with universal condemnation by my family. Steve wanted nothing to do with it. Rose wouldn't even think about it. Steve's son Kris didn't even want to go in the house and he wasn't even born until almost 2 years after we had left that house.
Only Dad was interested at all. He just got a distant pissed of look and said, "I've always wanted to go back in there." It was almost as if he had unsettled business with that house. But in the end my plans failed and there was no Halloween party.

But it's Tuesday and this is the day when I ask questions and such. So before I tell you a very funny Mark story, let me ask a question of you. Should I change the name of my blog? And if so what should it be? My Drivel somehow doesn't seem to fit any longer. Anyway just something for you to ponder about. If you're in the mood for some pondering.

Ok on to funny stuff.
It occurred to me last night that I've mentioned Mark many times in this blog but yet never really talked about him. All you know of him is that he's (still) expecting a son to be born, and that it was his sick idea for me to spill the family secrets. So you must ask what sort of person is behind this whole idea? What massive intelligence thought all this up? Let me tell you ....................
Mark is now a very successful mid level management type guy who works for a company that is only slightly behind Osama Bin Laden in popularity polls. He his married with three daughters and a son (STILL ) on the way. In every respect he appears to be a very capable upstanding man who would never do anything stupid.
Which maybe true now but only a few years ago Mark was a very successful drunk. He was always good with computers but where he really excelled in life was killing massive amounts of his brain cells with equally massive amounts of liquor. The more he drank the more foolish he became.
For instance in 1987 he was so drunk that one night he was showing people how he could run up walls. Naturally gravity pulled him back down onto the arm of a wooden chair I believe. Whatever it was he had a truly massive bruise on his leg. So obviously the next night when I came to visit him at his college he had to show me how he did it. The next night he had to go to the emergency room because of all the blood pooling into the bottom of his leg. When against Doctor's orders he went out with me and a friend to go to haunted houses we got to hear the truly classic line from his Dad, "If your leg gets worse and it has to be amputated, Don't Come Crying To Me Mister ! ."
We of course still went out.
But this pales compared to a night in 1992 or so. Mark had been out drinking heavily that night. When the bars closed he and a equally drunk friend bought a pizza and were staggering home to eat eat it. Before they could get far they came to the train tracks where they had to wait for a passing train. Mark stood there holding the pizza watching the train pass. He began to get impatient for the train to hurry up so he could go home to eat his pizza. (Mark got very hungry when he got drunk.) So to hurry the train along he slapped the it.
He slapped a train weighing more then 200 hundred tons and moving at 20 miles an hour.
Anyone ever hear that old question ,"What would happen if a irresistible force hit an immovable object?" Well I don't have the answer for that. I do have the answer for the question,"What would happen if an 160 pound drunk man hits an irresistible force?" He is instantly thrown more then 10 feet down the tracks (Thankfully away from the train), and his pizza is ruined.
Oh and he also breaks his right hand.
Mark was far more lucky than he should have been. The train could have just as easily taken his hand with it. He could have been thrown into the train. I could have had a video camera and won $100, 000 on Americas Funniest Home Videos.
Instead he ends up with just a broken hand and a reputation as a wild man. Soon his story becomes a legend that I'm sure kids at his college will believe to be an urban myth in the future.
Months later however, after his hand has healed I come down to visit Mark again. Again we spend the night drinking. Again Mark get drunk. At the end of the evening we end up back at Mark's apartment with some other people. For some unknown reason he gets into a shouting match with one of them. As he's yelling at the front door to his apartment complex he kicks the door with his bare foot. A door made up of glass.
So again quite naturally his foot goes though the door and is cut to pieces.
Mark sobers up immediately. Mark, his sister, and I took Mark to the Emergency Room. (At this point they were on a first name basis with him there.) As he was wheeled back to the E.R. I told the nurse that it was against Mark's religion to have any pain killers of any type. Sadly they did not believe me I think. Later I asked if I could have the foot if they had to cut it off.
At one point the nurse asked me ,"Are you a friend of his?"
I said ,"Nope. Best enemies."
Later the next morning we both slept late. His work called to see why he wasn't there. I got up from the couch to answer the phone. At the same time Mark jumped out of bed to also answer the phone. He landed on his foot and fell to the ground. I picked the phone up and answered,"Marks place!"
"Um ...Yeah, I was wondering why Mark wasn't at work today?"
I looked at Mark trying to get up. His foot was heavily bandaged.
"Didn't you hear ?"
The guy on the other end of the phone sounded worried now. "No. What happened?"
"Last night he kicked a train."
He didn't say anything for a second and I could tell he wasn't sure if he should believe me or not.
"Really?"
"Yup."
Unfortunately Mark got to the phone and ruined my fun.
But what's important to remember is that his boss wasn't immediately throwing out the idea that Mark would kick a train. If it was anyone else they wouldn't believe me, but Mark...........Maybe.

I'm sure Mark will have his own version of these events Some perfectly logical reason why he did what he did. Just remember, ...... HE slapped a moving train! He's nuts.
Of course he's also my choice for a best friend so what does that say about me?

Teddy's Fate


Mom came home from the hospital on Tuesday December 4th 1973. We kept it a very quiet affair. There were no other relatives over, not even any flowers or cards. It was almost as if she was just coming home from the store. Mom immediately began acting like nothing was wrong. Within an hour of coming home she was already starting to cook supper. We all protested but Mom was very insistent.
Before Mom had come home Dad and the other boys had removed all traces that Mom was expecting baby. Upstairs in the attic was all the new baby supplies they had bought , including a baby bed. I sat in my room and watched them take everything up. I had no wish myself to go back up to the attic. Before Mom came home from the hospital she made Dad promise that we would be out of the house by time January's rent was due.
December 4th was also the day of any real significant snowfall that winter. I looked out the window and watched the snow gently come down. I realized that had it been any other day I would be outside being pelted by snowballs in some insane game that my brothers had thought up and that I (for some unknown reason) always agreed to play since I was 5.
The game was simple.
John and Geno would construct a tall L shaped wall. They would stock it with plenty of snowballs. I would built a wall to the best of my ability. It was always very inadequate to the occasion. I would arm myself with a few snowballs. Rose would stand behind the wall with Geno and John. My goal was to hit Rose with one snowball. If I landed that snowball the game was over. Geno and John's goal was to defend Rose by throwing uncounted snowballs at me.
The game always ended with Rose untouched by a snowball , and my laying on the ground buried under a avalanche of hits.
But on this day Dad had made it clear that we were to be as quiet as church mice. Plus none of us really felt like laughing and playing. All we wanted to do was be as close to Mom as possible.
Mom put up a good front. She was all smiles for us, but the sadness in her eyes was very evident. We all spent that day trying to let Mom know as much as possible how much we loved her. There may have been no laughter that day but at least there were no tears.
My oldest brother Steve had the perfect way to bring laughter back in the house.
On December 8th a week from the day that we buried Penny, Steve married Kathy in my parents living room.

This had been planned for a while. Steve at first wanted to postpone it due to what had just happened, but Mom wouldn't hear of it. So with the Christmas tree as a backdrop they exchanged vows. My Mom smiled the first real smile we had seen since she lost the baby. I don't remember Dad smiling , but then again I don't remember him ever smiling.
Even I was happy, even though it meant that the girl I had a crush on since I was four was now forever out of my reach. (Ok she was always out of my reach , but little boys can dream can't they?)
Mere seconds after Steve had kissed Kathy as his wife for the first time, I ran up and gave her a hug. I didn't want to let go. We all enjoyed that day immensely. There was more snow outside, but as it was Steve's wedding day there was no time for my brothers to assault me with snowballs.
It was the best day we could remember in the house for a long time. But even under Mom's smile and laughter we could see the sadness that was just under the surface.
A few days after that Dad announced he had found a new house in the larger town of Kewanee, just 12 miles away. He told us that we wouldn't be going back to the Cambridge schools after Christmas break. None of us were very thrilled but we all knew enough not to say anything to Dad or Mom.
When Dad told the landlord we were moving they were very nice about it. They told my parents that whoever had left all that furniture in the house and in the attic was never coming back for it. If my parents wanted any of it they were welcome to it. My parents were very thankful.
Christmas soon came. My parents were very broke that year so because of all the expenses of the last month. Steve and Kathy helped out them out with buying gifts.
On Christmas Eve I hid upstairs with Geno and John and Rose while "Santa" dropped the gifts off. From the sounds of it "Santa" also helped himself to a can of beer. Finally around 8 that evening we were called downstairs to open our gifts. To my horror I saw that Grandma had given Geno and John new slingshots.. I new the coming months would not be fun.
At third grade I knew the truth about Santa. But when I opened my gift marked from Santa I threw my head back and screamed out at the top of my lungs,"Thank you Santa!" I felt like a liar but it was the only way to let the world know how happy I was.
In my hands was a new G.I. Joe adventure action figure with life like hair and beard. To me it was the greatest gift I ever had. What ever else I got that Christmas sat unused and unplayed with for quite a long while. I made it clear to Duke he was not to eat my G.I. Joe doll.
I loved it so much that today sitting on a shelf in my living room is a replica of the same GI Joe and box. When I look at it I think of my parents, my brother Steve , and Christmas.
Sometime after Christmas , but before the New Year, we were sitting in the living room and talking about moving to a new house and what we would take with us. Steve was there that day. I'm sure Kathy was there but I have no clear memory of her.
What I do remember clearly is that on that day while we were talking, Mom started to cry. It was the first time since she came home that we had seen her cry. We weren't sure what to say or do. Dad told us (rather harshly I might add.) to go outside , and give Mom some time alone. Rose asked if she could go upstairs instead of outside. Dad glared at her until she began to put her snowshoes on.
Unsure of what to do we all walked outside into the cold December air. With no more sense of purpose of what they were doing than a bird building a nest John and Geno began to construct their wall. Understanding that I couldn't escape my fate any longer I started to build my little hump of a wall. Within a relatively short amount of time their wall was built and their massive supply of snowballs were at the ready. Rose stood a little behind Geno and John, a gleeful look on her face as she anticipated my certain doom.
Steve sat on the back steps watching, but apparently not wanting to get involved.
But this year I wasn't alone. Duke was at my side along with G.I. Joe. I planted Joe in the ground next to me and even made a tiny little snowball for his hand. While I was still getting my pathetic fortifications ready John went over to the well and got a little water in a bucket. He brought it back to his wall and sprinkled it on gently. His hope was to make it ice hard on the outside.
Finally John asked me if I was ready. Rose popped her head out from the side of the wall, and stuck her tongue out at me. I noticed a little movement behind me and turned towards Steve. Behind him in the house I could see my Mom standing in the doorway looking at us with a little wistful smile on her face.
With renewed determination not to fall so easily this year, I told John I was ready. John smiled wickedly and said , "Ok you go first." I could see Geno had a snowball in his hand ready to hurl it my way.
Just then something rushed past me screaming like a banshee. Before I knew what was happening, Steve yelling wildly, threw himself at the wall and knocked it down. In the process he took Geno and John down to the grounded with him. John landed on his back and Geno fell on his face. Steve put a knee in John's chest so he couldn't move. He grabbed Geno by the back of the pants and picked him up and slammed him back into the snowy ground. Repeatedly. Geno made funny little ,"hmmph" noises everytime his face hit the snow.
Rose at first thought it was funny what Steve was doing to her other brothers and laughed. Then her eyes grew large with terror when she realized that now nothing stood between me and her. She screamed and tried to run away from me , dropping the snowball she was holding to the ground. With a barking Duke close behind me I took off after Rose yelling in triumph. In ever widening circles around my brothers I chased her though the snow, not throwing the snowball right away because I was having so much fun.
In fact my joy was so intense I have no clear memory of throwing it at all. All I remember is laughing madly as she ran from me , while Steve battled John and Geno in the snow.
We stayed another ten days or so before we moved. Even though the landlord said we could, I myself took nothing from the house when we left. Not even my cigar box full of G.I. Joe equipment .
When we moved to Kewanee on the night of January 7th 1974, it was still there under the floorboard in the attic, next to a Teddy Bear wrapped in a brown paper bag.

Penny
The first night we stayed at our neighbors house in Cambridge was pretty much a blur. I remember her trying to be as comforting as possible , but she didn't know us that well , and didn't really know how to deal with us. We didn't give her any trouble however. Rose had been crying off and on all night. Even Geno and John had cried a bit when we first found out. By evening we had settled down and were pretending to watch television. Geno was the most impatient of us, jumping every time the phone would ring , and asking many times where the heck Steve was.
I hadn't cried yet. I hadn't done anything yet. All I did that first evening was stare at the television and pretend to watch it. Occasionally I would glance over at John who was sitting in a chair behind me. It seemed all he did that evening was to glare at me. I wondered to myself if he remembered the glass of water I had given to Mom. I wondered if he blamed me.
Sleep never comes easy to me when I stay somewhere different , and that night I stayed awake till 2 in the morning staring at the ceiling. The next day November 29th 1973, I woke early and got out of bed. We all went downstairs to eat breakfast. Geno asked the lady whose house we were staying at if she had heard from Dad. She looked very sad as she said she had not. After breakfast Geno asked our host if he could make a quick call to our oldest brother Steve. She told him of course and he dialed Steve number. He let it ring almost 30 times before he hung up. Lack of information was starting to get on all of our nerves.
Our neighbor lady told us she wasn't sure what to do with us , so she was sending us off to school. We all thought this was a bad idea, but we didn't have any choice in the matter. When the bus pulled up we reluctantly got on it. I felt as if every eye on that bus was staring straight at me. I sat next to my friend Paul but didn't say a word to him. I spent most of the ride staring at the back of the seat in front of me. I glanced up as we passed our home to see if Dad's car was there. It was not. As I looked away I noticed John glaring at me from across the bus.
When I got to school I went straight to my classroom and sat in my chair. The teacher came in and told me she had heard the bad news. She told me how bad she felt for my family , and if there was anything she could do to please let her know. I nodded and stared down at my seat. When school began she made an announcement to the rest of the class. I felt as if all eyes were upon me for the rest of the day. I wanted to cry out, "Stop Looking At Me!" Instead I remained silent. At 3 in the afternoon the bell rang and the longest day of school I ever had ended.
On the bus ride home we all sat closer so we could talk. We were hoping that the bus would drop us off at our house , but our hopes were dashed when the bus went by the house. The first thing we asked our host as we got off the bus was if she had heard from Dad. She told us that she still hadn't, but assured us that Dad would call as soon as he could. That evening Geno, John, and Rose sat on the couch watching television while I sat on the floor right in front of them. When the phone rang we all went as a group to the kitchen to see if it was Dad.
It wasn't Dad, but to our relieve it was Steve. Geno spoke with him on the phone. When Geno hung up he still had a sad face. Geno told us that Mom hadn't had the baby yet , but the doctors were saying it didn't look good. Rose began to get emotional again , and John put his arm around her to comfort her. We all walked back into the living room to continue acting like we cared what was on the television. At 10 O'Clock that evening we went upstairs to our guest rooms and went to bed. Sleep came easier that night, but it was still troubled.
A little after 1.30 in the morning the phone rang. We all heard it and awoke immediately. The neighbor lady came to the room I was sharing with Geno and told us it was Dad. Geno being the oldest there got to talk with him. We all sat in the kitchen watching Geno on the phone with Dad. When we saw tears coming from Geno's eyes we knew the worst had happened. Rose began crying softly again. Geno hung up the phone and told us that Mom was OK, but the baby died shortly after being born. John was now crying as well. I just stood there feeling very small.
I thought of that glass of water and wanted to scream.
The next day, thank God I didn't have to go to school. We waited at our neighbors house until Steve came and got us. The hospital would not let anyone under the age of 16 in to see Mom. Even Geno had a hard time getting in as he was small for his age. So we ended up being taken even further away to stay with various relatives for the day. At some point I ended up with my Dad's mom, Grandma Aggie.
Dad meanwhile came home from the hospital to shower and put on some clean clothes. He hadn't slept in almost 3 days. He was tired and he was angry at the world. My father was not a happy man on the best of days. This day he was ready to erupt. Dad walked in the back door to find a pair of shoes torn to bits. He walked into the living room and found that there was dog shit on his chair. Dad looked around for Duke. He called out the dog's name angrily. We had a dog door in the back door. There was no reason for Duke to have to do that in the house. Dad stormed up the stairs with every intention of killing Duke. As he went into his bedroom he saw that Duke had tore his pillow to pieces. Dad was enraged even more.
He found Duke on the floor by Mom's side of the bed. Duke had gathered up Mom's pillow and other items that were hers and had made a nest of them. As Dad stood towering over the dog ready to kill him with his bare hands Duke just looked up at Dad. Dad stood there for a moment, then all the rage just left him. He slid down on the floor next to Duke and just sat there. After a little bit he started to pet Duke telling him, "I know how you feel. She'll be home soon."
I spent the day sitting in Grandma's living room with the TV on. Grandma didn't have much time to spend with me. She was on the phone making funeral arrangements for Dad, and calling other relatives. It was there that I heard the baby called by name for the first time. Grandma told someone she was talking to on the phone,"Her names Penny Sue Hernandez."
Occasionally some Uncle would stop by Grandma's house to see how everything was. After a while they would make their way into the living room and ask me, "How you doing big guy?" I would give them a little smile and say,"OK." Other than that I was left alone in her living room. That room seemed very large that day.
After it was dark Grandma and Grandpa Woody told me that we were leaving for the funeral home. Dad was there and she needed to talk to him. On the way I asked Grandma when my Mom was going to be coming home. She told me it would be a couple more days. I loved Grandma but at that moment the person I wanted more than anyone was my mother.
When we got to the funeral home Grandma told me to wait in some room while she went to talk to Dad. I was left in a very large room with soft lighting and calm soothing music playing . It neither soothed nor calmed me. I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs. I wanted to grab things in the room and throw them.
Instead I sat there.
At one point I needed to use the restroom. On my way there I saw the room that Dad and my Grandparents were in. Half the room had some sort of curtain partition going through it. I snuck into that part of the room and peeked through the curtain at My Dad.
It was the first time I had seen him since all this had happened. He had shaved off his mustache. It made him appear much older for some reason. He was sitting in a chair with his back ramrod straight staring straight ahead. Grandma sat next to him holding his hand. I could tell she was crying. Grandpa Woody sat a little off to one side.
In front of Dad was a tiny little casket. The brown casket was so small it didn't seem real. With a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach I realized that Penny must be in it. I thought to myself how scary it would be to in something like that. The longer I stared at it the further away it seemed.
Then Dad let a very loud sigh. I looked over at him and saw he had tears coming out of his eyes. For some reason this shocked me more then anything. I had never seen my Dad cry before. Not wanting to be there anymore I snuck out and went back to the waiting room. I sat there for maybe another ten minutes(it seemed longer) before my Grandparents came back out. Grandma took my hand and we walked out. As we drove away I just looked out the window into the darkness.
I have no memory of where I spent that night. My next clear memory is the next morning, Saturday December 1st. I was sitting in the back of another car. John was sitting next to me. We were headed back to the funeral home to bury Penny. Mom was still in the hospital and couldn't attend.
On the way there John slid over to me. "Why haven't you cried yet", he asked. I looked over at him. I opened my mouth as if to speak but didn't know what to say. Finally I just looked away."Why haven't you cried," he said again a little harsher. I still said nothing.
For some reason he thought it important that I cry. He hit me very hard in my left arm. I didn't make a sound. I just looked out the window. He hit me again, harder. The third time he hit me I looked back at him with a puzzled look on my face. John held my gaze and finally slid back to his side of the car.
The service was held outside in the crisp air. There was no snowfall yet, and I remember leaves blowing around. I thought to myself that it shouldn't be so sunny on such a day. The whole family was there except Mom's parents who couldn't make it up in time and Dad's dad who lived on the west coast.
I sat on a chair next to Rose. She was sitting next to Dad crying very softly. A priest stood up and talked about stuff that didn't make any sense to me. All I could focus on was the tiny little coffin in front of me. It seemed even smaller outside in the light of day. When they lowered Penny's small casket in the ground, Rose's crying got worse. I wanted to say something to comfort her, but I didn't know the words. Instead I reached out and held her hand. She gripped mine back tightly.
When the service was over everyone got up to leave. Steve told Dad that all of us brothers would stay a little bit longer by the gravesite, and that we would all come home together. Dad, Rose and Kathy left in the same car. Steve said something to some guy there and started to fill the dirt over Penny's grave himself. The guy left and soon came back with two more shovels for Geno and John. They joined in and helped Steve. I stayed in my chair watching them, not saying a word. Some other guy came up to Steve and said that he didn't have to do that. In fact nobody does that. Steve replied,"We're her brothers. We'll do it. She's had enough strangers touch her." Steve motioned for me to come over to him. He gave me the shovel and had me help a little.
Soon we were done. We stood there a little not talking before Steve handed the shovels back to some grounds keeper. On the ride home we still didn't speak that much. When we got to the house in Cambridge we saw the driveway and yard were packed with cars. Steve pulled around to the barn and parked. As we walked by the barn on the way to the house Steve stopped ,turned and punched the barn door. He then turned and walked in the backdoor holding his hand.
Inside the house I sat on the couch. Occasionally people would come by and say something to me. But mostly I just sat there alone. From where I was sitting I could see Steve and Kathy sitting next to each other at the dining room table, holding each other tightly. Dad sat at the Kitchen table with Rose as always by his side. Geno had went outside to be away from everyone. After a while I got up. I walked up the stairs towards my bedroom. At the top of the stairs I could see into John's room. He was sitting on his bed with his back against the wall with his arms folded across his chest. When he saw me looking at him he just glared.
Before I got to my room I stopped by the attic door. I opened it and slowly walked up the stairs. I went over to the spot with the loose floorboard and moved the boxes I had left sitting on top it. With very little effort I pulled the board up and took out the bag holding the Teddy Bear I had bought 3 months earlier. Kneeling on the floor, I took the bear out of the bag and held him in my hands. My fingers traced his face and eyes. I thought how lonely Penny must be in that coffin.
Holding the teddy bear close to my chest I found myself starting to shake uncontrollably. Soon tears came welling up from deep inside me. I cried with a rage and a sorrow I had never felt before. My face felt hot against the tears. I kept muttering ,"I'm sorry", over and over again. I tried to scream out but found no sound would come out. I cried so hard up in that attic that I exhausted myself.
When I was done. I carefully put the bear back in the bag. I lowered him back to the space under the floor and gently put the board back over him.
I walked down the stairs and went to my room to lay down. Soon there was a gently knock. I looked up. It was my Grandma. She held a package in her hands. For the life of me I couldn't understand why she have a present on a day like this.
"Happy Birthday ", she said and handed me my gift. She knelt down and held me tight. She kissed me on my cheek. "I'm so sorry it had to be today." She stood up and walked out of my room. I opened my present to find a toy gun and holster. A cowboy hat came with it. I stared at them for a moment then tossed them on the floor. I laid down on my bed and soon found myself fast asleep.

Skeptics and Unbelievers

If you talk to most people who know me they would tell you that I'm pretty much the most skeptical person they know of. Unlike my sister I do not believe every unexplained circumstance is a supernatural one. Whenever anyone tells me a ghost story or about a flying saucer, I treat it with the same respect as when my youngest son thinks his Elmo doll is alive.
I didn't always be so cynical. I used to be quite open minded in my youth. As a young boy I was positive that Bigfoot was lurking mere inches outside my window. The only reason he didn't come into my house to get me was that he was getting into a nightly fight with the ghost of Charles Manson over who got to kill me first. Imagine my surprise when I found out old Charlie was still alive.
When I was younger I believed firmly in UFO's and the Bermuda Triangle. To me it was a unquestioned fact that these things existed. If someone told me that their house was haunted I took them at their word. And why not? I had lived in a house that was haunted hadn't I? Why couldn't they?
Yet as I got older my world became less and less supernatural. When I heard my sister tell me of her haunted house I laughed. I looked for a natural explanation and found one. (The voices she heard came from teenagers parking at the car wash behind her house. But don't tell her. It's more fun to watch.) Whenever anyone tells me of anything the least bit odd my first reaction is that they are nuts.
I fear I've lost something as I've aged. My brother Steve was, if anything, even more open minded about these things than Rose was. He was so superstitious that he viewed his lawn gnomes with great distrust. Yet as funny as that sounds ( and it's true) I think Steve and even Rose live in a far more interesting and wonderful world than I do. I'm just too closed minded.
And yet here I am writing about a house that can only come across as haunted. It makes me somewhat conflicted. Yet I can't dismiss the events that happened there. The time my family lived in that house has become part of my family mythology. We discuss the ghost and the flying skillet and the cool spots all the time.
And initially that's all I was going to write about here. But as I wrote some stuff down and looked though the photo's I found myself thinking about things I hadn't thought of in almost 30 years. The Teddy Bear and what happened to it is among the things I haven't given a lot of thought to these many years. Just like I haven't given a lot of thought to my Mom being pregnant 30 years ago.
At first I wasn't going to even mention these things. Then I thought of Ethan and Isaac and remembered why I'm doing this. If this is going to be the story of where they came from they deserve the truth. This can't just be entry after entry of humorous things my brothers and I did to each other.
So if you only read these to get a chuckle maybe you might want to skip tomorrow's blog. After that things will get funny again.
And I promise , no more ghost stories.

Birthday Wishes


Halloween came and went in 1973 with little fanfare. It was in the middle of the school week and after the Halloween of two years previous (See the July 29th blog) it was rather sedate. Rose and I were the only the ones who went trick or treating. Another thing that threw us off a bit was we had never went trick or treating in Cambridge before. After years of living in the Quad City area we had a nice route we took every year no matter where we were living there. Another thing that was different was Geno and John thought they were now too mature to go trick or treating with us. Apparently they weren't too mature to steal our candy. Luckily Rose and I took an extra bag with us and told each house we went to that we had a sick brother at home. Rose was very good at that. She would give whoever answered the door her saddest face and tell her tale of woe. She was so good that she'd even have a tear or two roll down her cheek.
Hell, she was so good I wanted to give her an extra piece of candy every now and then. When we got home the only candy we let our two older brothers steal was the candy we had conned out of the homes we visited.
On November 1st I realized my birthday was only a month away. I hadn't given up on my dream of getting a G.I. Joe. Upstairs in the attic next to the teddy bear was a cigar box full of G.I. Joe equipment I had found all over my vast yard and house. I knew if I was going to get a Joe to go with that stuff my best chance would be on my birthday.
So I kicked into overdrive. I began to leave notes laying around the house for Mom and Dad to find. My notes would say stuff like,"Your son Tom has been a good son and deserves a G.I. Joe for his ninth birthday." Every Sunday I would cut out any adds in the newspaper that had G.I. Joe stuff and leave them on Dad's desk or on the kitchen table for Mom to find.
Mom would tell me that they would do their best but with the baby on the way they might not have the money to buy me a G.I. Joe. Not willing to give up I continued to leave my adds around the house. I even went so far as to mail my Grandma the same notes and adds. My hope that someone would take notice of my desire to have one.
With the cooling weather the chill in my room became very noticeable. Like Duke, my brother Steve would now not go in my room if he could help it. Steve was spooked easily and this was just too much for him. His girlfriend Kathy did come into my room. Her most vivid memory was holding her hand over the register vent. She could feel heat coming out , but it would just vanish about a foot away. When Steve heard that, and about Rose's ghost sighting he looked as if he wanted to leave immediately. Dad told Steve that we were looking for a new house and would be moving soon. That seemed to calm him down a little. When Steve left to go home he found in his car a note saying," Your little brother has been a good brother and deserves a G.I. Joe for his birthday." Next to it was an add from Sunday's paper for a G. I . Joe.
My thoughts were the more notes I left the greater a chance I had for getting at least one G.I. Joe. With a little luck I might even get two.
November soon began to drift away and by Thanksgiving weekend it looked as if Mom might have the baby any day. Mom still insisted on cooking the Thanksgiving Turkey anyway. She said that she was afraid that we'd blow the house up. Mom would always stay up almost all night cooking for the Thanksgiving meal. This year we made sure there was someone with her at all times, in case she went into labor. I remember sitting in the kitchen with her at during that long night. At one point before I fell asleep I remember putting my head on her belly and feeling the baby move.It was almost too exciting for a soon to be 9 year old. I came very close to running upstairs to the attic and grabbing the bear. I wanted to say, "See what I did? Now buy me a G.I. Joe!" The only reason I think I didn't was because I so tired. Geno soon relieved me and I went upstairs to my room and fell fast asleep.
The next day was like most of our holidays. Most of the family converged on our house. Besides eating we spent the day playing with cousins. I also told everyone who would listen about my birthday and my hope of getting a G.I. Joe. All in all it was as fun filled a day as I can remember. With the baby just days away everyone was very excited. No matter how much I tried to steer the conversation into the virtues of owning a G.I. Joe , everyone wanted to talk about the new baby. My Uncle Tim kept telling everyone who would listen that if Dad showed up at the hospital drunk he was under no circumstances to be allowed to name the baby. Everyone laughed when Uncle Tom offered to buy my Dad a case of beer on the day Mom went into labor.
That evening when various Uncles and cousins left they found notes in their cars saying , " Tom has been a good nephew /cousin this year and really deserves a G.I. Joe for his birthday." I was hoping that if I threw enough of these notes around one would stick.
The Sunday after Thanksgiving Geno , John , Rose , and I were sitting at the table waiting for Mom to finish cooking breakfast. Dad was sitting in the living room laughing at some Sunday morning televangelist. Mom was making bacon and eggs. Sitting on the stove were two heavy cast iron skillets. The stove and refrigerator sat on opposite sides of the kitchen directly across from each other. The kitchen table sat in between but pulled back a bit so someone could walk between the two without having to walk around the table.
Mom turned to walk to the refrigerator when the cast iron skillet that had the bacon in itfell off the stove. Half way to the floor it bounced on the air and flew towards Mom. It landed on the floor just behind her feet splashing the backs of her legs with hot grease. Mom started screaming. Rose and and I started screaming even louder. Even Geno and John were screaming a little.
Dad came running in from the living room and screamed,"What's going on? Why are you screaming?!"
I shouted ,"The skillet tried to kill Mom!"
Rose screamed,"It's the Ghost!"
Dad said very loudly and very harshly, "Are you all nuts? Just calm down!"
That it turned out was far easier said than done. Dad took Mom into the living room. The rest of us sat there for a moment before we all came to the conclusion we weren't hungry. Geno turned off the stove and we all followed Mom and Dad into the living room. We sat there a little in very uncomfortable silence. Dad finally broke it when he said that the house wasn't haunted , but we were moving anyway. He told the earliest we could break our lease would be January 7. That would give us enough time to find a nice house.
For lunch that day Dad went out and got us pizza. We all ate it in the living room.
That night I went upstairs and got ready for bed. I went in my bedroom and turned on my radio. As I sat on my bed I noticed that something was different about my room. It took me a moment to realize what it was. Then in a flash it hit me. My room wasn't cool anymore. It was odd. After almost 8 months I had gotten used to having a cool room. Now that it was gone it felt very unnatural. For some reason it made me very uneasy. A little later Rose knocked on my door. She came in and told me to come with her. I followed her across the hall to my parents room.
It was now cooler then any other room in the house. We pointed this out to Dad who told us we were nuts.
That Wednesday , November 28 1973 began like any other day. We all kissed Mom goodbye and rode the bus to school. During school all I could think of was my birthday was only 3 days away. I wondered that if the baby were born on my birthday would it ruin or increase my chances of getting my G.I. Joe. My teacher told me that I could bring my best gift in on Monday and show the class.
After school I got on the bus. As usual my brothers and sister sat as far apart from one another as we could. I was sitting next to my friend Paul, talking about G.I. Joes when we approached our house. The school bus didn't even slow down. As we passed our home Geno shouted out to the bus driver, "Hey you missed our house!"
The bus driver looked over her shoulder and said, "I'm to drop you off at one of your neighbors today."
We all looked at each with confused looks. Rose smiled and said loudly , "I bet Mom's having the baby!"
About a mile from our house and on the opposite of the road we pulled in front of a house belonging to a young married couple that had befriended Mom. We didn't know them very well , but Mom spoke very nicely about the lady who lived there. As we got off the bus she stood in her yard waiting for us.
Rose was the first to run up to her and ask if Mom was having the baby. The rest of us were close behind all asking the same thing. My last clear memory that day was the sound of the bus pulling away.
I don't remember her exact words. But standing outside in her yard on that cool November day our nieghbor told us that Mom was in the Hospital, and it looked like she was going to lose the baby.
I vaguely remember Rose crying hysterically and John holding her. Geno took two steps back and just sat on the ground with a confused look on his face.
I just stood there. I didn't cry. I didn't scream.
All I could think of was that glass of water I gave my Mom right before school started.

Over Reacting Or Under Reacting

Do you ever wonder why we act the way we do sometimes? I do.
I have an odd reaction in times of crisis. ( When I say crisis I mean a real crisis, not something that I've blown out of all proportion like a girl dumping me or something.) I seem to have a delayed reaction to what's happening. I tend to become almost detached.
For example when Ethan was born I was worried at first that I wasn't feeling the way I should. A friend once described seeing your newborn child as instant love. I wasn't quite sure what I felt for Ethan when he was first born. Everything was so hectic. Every member of my family at one time or another cried when he was being airlifted away. As the helicopter lifted into the air with my son I knew if I lost it, Angie would be even more upset then she was.
It wasn't until a week from that Friday when they told us Ethan was going to be ok that I let myself feel anything. The result as Angie and I walked though the mall was me almost dancing in the air. Angie still tells me that it's the happiest , goofiest , and silliest(is that even a word?) that she's ever seen me. I wanted to scream out to the world that my son would be ok.
On the reverse side was when we had the fire 10 days after Angie and I married. Angie lost it so bad when the fire broke out I didn't see her for hours afterwards. Later I found out she went to her Grandmothers house. She sat in her kitchen just shaking like a leaf. Meanwhile I was perfectly calm . I never cried or acted unduly emotional while I walked though the wreckage of our home. I didn't lose control during the 9 nights I stayed at my sister's house. It was only after we had a new apartment and were moved in that everything hit me. Sitting alone in my new living room I began to shake very badly. I may have even have cried a bit. I was just relieved that my family made it though everything ok. I thought to myself ,"Boy I never want to go through that shit again."
Even when I was four and in the Emergency Room for slicing my arm open I was very calm. I remember the Doctor telling me he wished all his patients were as calm as I was.
I have no idea why I do this. I wish I did.
I also wish I could have acted the same way to my own little personal crisis's when I was younger. It would have made my life a lot easier.

Rose's Teaching Career Dies A Quick Death

Rose loved Gymnastics as a young girl. I believe she liked it so much because she liked feeling special. She would practice tumbling whenever she could. When she was tumbling she felt she was the center of the world. And as difficult as this is to admit for me , Rose was actually quite good at it. Before we had moved to Cambridge she had won a few ribbons and awards for it.
Geno and John felt she had taken it up because it made her a harder target to hit with the sling shots.
Whatever the case when we moved to Cambridge she stopped because there were no local tumbling meets in the area at the time. Then when I started in the Cub Scouts Rose got very jealous that I was getting all the attention. (She's irrational that way), and demanded that she get to do some tumbling. Dad told Rose he wasn't going to be driving her an hour back and forth to the nearest meets.
My sister is very persistent when she wants something and won't give up easily. She put her every thought into figuring out how to return to tumbling. Rose decided that the quickest way to start tumbling in our area was to increase demand among her classmates. Rose also thought it was a quick way to raise some easy cash. She put up some fliers offering tumbling lessons after school.
In early October of 1973 Rose got her first student.
She was a pretty girl, a year or two younger then Rose. She was taller then Rose with long brown hair and perfect white teeth. I had just gotten back from a cub scout meeting when I saw her in the backyard with Rose. I was 8. She was 10. Normally that's the kind of age difference that's hard to get past in third grade. But one smile from her and I was smitten.
I sat outside in a lawn chair and watched Rose try and teach her the basics of tumbling on a mat she had spread out in the back yard. Rose was not a nice teacher. Every time this girl would do what Rose told her Rose would yell and say, "No, no, no. That's all wrong." Then Rose would do exactly the same move. As far as I could tell with my unpracticed eye she was doing exactly what Rose was telling her. If anything the fact that she was a good student was making my sister upset. All I could make of it was Rose thought this girl was going to be competition if they ever competed.
At one point Rose went in the house to get a bottle of pop. The girl walked over to me and said, "Your sister's not very nice is she?" Wow. This girl was great. Not only was she pretty but she was a good judge of character as well.
I decided that this was the time to make a good impression. I looked over at her and tried to say something smooth. However I found I couldn't look her in the eye without giggling. She looked at me like I was insane and moved away. I felt very embarrassed. Geno could have done a better job of impressing her then I did.
Rose came back outside and the lesson began once again. I watched a few moments more and went into the house and grabbed a bottle of pop out of the fridge. I went into the living room where Mom was talking to the pretty girl's mother. Mom was now looking very pregnant. Her due date was a little over 2 months away. I asked where Dad and my brothers were at. Mom told me that Dad was work, and Geno and John were doing something after school. I walked back towards the kitchen and looked out the window at Rose's new friend. Rose was still yelling at this girl that she was doing it all wrong.
I felt very sorry for this girl and thought I'd go outside and offer her a pop. I was also hoping that I would redeem myself for laughing every time I looked at her.
I went outside holding a bottle of root beer. My plan was to wait for the next break and offer it to her. Before I could Rose told her to try another flip. Just as she was in mid flip she became off balanced and fell. Her knee impacted hard against her mouth and knocked 3 or 4 of her front teeth out. Blood poured out of her mouth.
Much screaming then commenced. The poor girl and Rose ran past me into the kitchen. Mom and her mother came running from the living room. Rose's friend was screaming incoherently. They grabbed some towels and put it over her bloody mouth. Everyone was screaming and crying except me. I just stood there holding the bottle of root beer not sure of what to do or say. We all got into the (formerly) pretty girl's mother's car and raced off for the nearest emergency room.
Mom kept telling the other mother it was going to be ok. My Mom always tried to make other people feel better in a bad situation. It's one of the things I love most about her. Rose looked at the poor girl holding a towel up to her bloody mouth. Her crying seemed to bother Rose who said, "This is why you have to pay attention. Next time pay attention." The girl sobbed even more.
Not knowing what to do I offered her some root beer. My only response was more tears.
A few minutes after we left Dad pulled into the driveway. He got out of his car and walked towards the door. As he was about to open it he noticed blood on the steps. Dad carefully opened it and stepped around the blood , only to greeted with more blood. There was a blood trail leading towards the sink. Bloody towels lay on the kitchen table.
"Good God ", he mumbled to himself , "What have they done to Tom this time?"
Dad shouted out to see if anyone was home. Only silence greeted him. He walked over to the stairs leading upstairs and shouted a second time. Still nothing. Mumbling curse words under his breath he headed for his den. He sat down at his desk and called his mother. Dad asked her if she had heard from my Mom.
"No", Grandma said."Why?"
Dad told her what he had come home to.
" What happened to Tom?"
(I still find it a source of great amusement that whenever their was any sort of accident in my house , it was always assumed I was on the losing end of it.)
Dad told his mother that he didn't know what happened but that he'd call her back as soon as he found anything out. He hung up the phone and sat in his office wondering what to do. He thought of calling the local emergency room , but decided against it.
Dad was still sitting behind his desk when he heard a noise. A creaking sound, like someone walking around upstairs. At first he didn't think anything of it. Then he thought to himself, "Someone's home." He got up from his desk and walked to the living room. Dad listened. It sounded like someone walking around in his bedroom.
"Helen , is that you?", he shouted.
Nothing.
"Who's up there?"
Still Nothing. Dad walked up the stairs . As he stood in the hallway he saw someone standing outside my bedroom. Dad later told me it was what Rose had seen in the kitchen that night a few weeks earlier. Dad said she was just standing there staring at him intently. He didn't jump or scream when he saw her. Dad didn't run away. He stood there himself looking right back at her. Dad said she didn't look ghostly or see though. Her hair wasn't blowing in some ghostly breeze, and there wasn't a weird glow surrounding her. However, Dad took one look at her and knew she was our"ghost". I later asked him how.
All Dad told me was that he walked down the hallway slowly towards her. She just stood there watching him. When Dad got close to her he carefully reached out and tried to touch her.
Before his hand reached her, she vanished.
Dad said he stood there for a couple minutes more before he turned around and walked down the stairs.
When we came home from the emergency room we found Dad sitting outside in a lawn chair. He had a very funny look on his face like he was lost deep in thought. In his hand was a beer can. Mom was still apologizing to the girl's mother when we got out of the car. With hardly a word back to us they drove away. Rose was still insistent that it was all the other girl's fault. Mom yelled at Rose to go in and clean the kitchen up. It was getting dark so Rose made me go with her.
Before we did we all went over to Dad and told him what happened. At first it seemed like Dad wasn't paying too much attention to us. When Mom told him that we were paying the emergency room bill he suddenly became very aware of what we were saying.
Dad's face lost that far away look and he shouted," Why am I always coming home to find out my kids are running up new bills?"
Not wanting to be around Dad when he was mad Rose and I ran into the kitchen . For some unknown reason I felt sorry for Rose and helped her clean it up. While we were in there, Geno and John came home. They asked what we were doing and why Dad was outside screaming. Rose told them what happened. They were upset they weren't around to see it.
During dinner that night Dad told us that he was thinking about finding another house for us. His reasoning he said was that with the baby coming we would need more room. Mom seemed happy with the idea. The rest of us were not happy. The school year had just begun and we didn't want to leave. Dad told us he would try to find a house in the Cambridge school district. We tried to protest some more but the look in Dad's face told us it was no use.
That was the end of Rose's teaching career. Dad couldn't afford anymore Emergency Room bills.
I only saw that girl a few more times. She never appeared as pretty to me as she did that first day. At eight years of age I didn't have to many rules about what sort of girls I liked. But a big one was that they didn't wear dentures.
I often wonder if somewhere that poor girl still thinks about my sister. I often picture her living in some dark apartment filled with notebooks all about Rose. Inside the notebooks are written stuff like, "Saw Rose at Walmart today. Rose must die. Watched Angel last night on TV. Rose must die. Had a headache this morning. Rose must die."

Rose Gets Spooked By A Spook


The summer of 1973 seemed to last forever. After Geno's little fiasco with the dimes it settled into a nice easy rhythm that consisted of laying in the hammock watching Geno repeatedly mowing the yard or playing with my Dog Duke. Some afternoons John and I would look at Geno and remark that good brothers would help him out. Then we'd both laugh and drink some more cold pop.
As part of Geno's punishment he was also now the one who had to bring in fresh water from the well. John and Rose told me that when I was the "Water Boy" , Geno would pour half empty water jugs down the sink. I knew that they had probably done it as well, but when they suggested I do the same to Geno I told them that I wasn't going to slink down to Geno's level.
I poured out the water jugs way before they were half full.
Geno shot me many hateful looks. He had taken to blaming me for his misfortune. I suppose he needed to blame someone and I was it. At one point I found him with my cigar box full of G.I. Joe treasure. Afraid of what he might do I yanked it out of his hands a screamed for Mom. When it was safe I snuck up to the attic and hid it under the floorboard with the little bear I had bought for my new brother or sister. Geno also tried to scare me about how my bedroom was always cool. He taunted me by saying that my room was haunted and everyone knew it, even my dog. I told him I wasn't bothered by it.
In truth I was bothered a little. I never felt afraid when I was alone in the room ,but I had noticed that it had gotten just a little cooler. Dad still refused to believe there was anything amiss , and was openly mocking us for even suggesting it. My Mom was not so cynical about it. She thought perhaps we should move. All of us including Dad thought that was a bad idea. I was 8 years old and could remember moving 6 times . As a family we were getting collectively sick of going from town to town.
Dad told Mom that we weren't going to move just because there was a cold breeze in my room.
Soon summer drifted away and we began to prepare for school. I was actually very excited about going to school that year for a couple of reasons . One was that I was starting the cub scouts that year . Mom and Dad had bought my uniform and I couldn't wait to wear it. The other reason was my new teacher, Miss Sandburg. The newspaper had her picture and a little article about her. She was straight out of college and very pretty. Dad told me if his 3rd grade teacher had been that good looking he'd still be in school. Geno and John both agreed they wished they were still in grade school.
Four nights before school started I was in my room trying to decide if I should wear a clip on tie for my first day with my new teacher, when Mom called everyone downstairs for a family meeting. As we all walked down the stairs my brothers and sister all looked at each other trying to figure out who had gotten in trouble this time. Mom and Dad told us to sit down in the living room. To our disappointment we found out it wasn't a "So and so got in trouble", meeting. We were going to talk about the baby.
With the baby only 3 months away Mom wanted to discuss what we should name it. Everyone started throwing out names each worse then the last one. At one point John suggested Muhammad Ali . Dad pointed out that since we were Catholic that might send our church the wrong idea.
I thought of a name that I hoped Mom would like. In fact I was sure she liked it because that was what my name was originally going to be.
When I was born my name was to be Timothy Hilario Hernandez. Timothy after one of Dad's twin brothers and Hilario after his Dad who went by his middle name of Leo. When I was born Dad was dead drunk. He showed up at the hospital and did the whole sitting in the waiting room thing that was popular back in the 60's. When the nurse came out and showed Dad his new son she asked him what the name was. Dad was so drunk that he couldn't remember what my name was supposed to be.
When Dad's family arrived shortly they were shocked to find Thomas Leo Hernandez , in place of Timothy Hilario Hernandez. No one was more shocked then my Uncle Tim who had arrived with a large stuffed tiger for me. He was so heartbroken that he gave the tiger to Dad and left the hospital. My Dad didn't see him for almost 3 months. My Uncle Tom , Tim's twin was very pleased.
I suggested we name the baby Tim if it was a boy to make up for what Dad did. Mom loved the idea. John thought this was a bad idea. "What if Dad's drunk again and we end up with two Tom's?", he said.
Geno agreed. "One Tom is bad enough", he said.
Dad glared at John until he got up and went back upstairs. He then looked at Mom and agreed the baby would be named Tim if it was a boy. Rose came up with the name of Penny Sue if it was a girl. I disliked the name simply because Rose came up with it. Everyone else however liked it and I was outvoted. Later I would concede to Mom that it wasn't a bad name for a girl.
After we had agreed on the name issue we settled down to watch an evening of television. When Gunsmoke came on Rose went into the kitchen to do the dishes. She had only been in there for a short while when we heard the sound of a glass breaking. Rose then started screaming hysterically. She screamed so loud that even John came running down the stairs to see what was wrong.
We got Rose into the living and after we calmed her down she told us what she saw.
While Rose was in the room off the kitchen washing the dishes she looked into the darkened kitchen and thought she saw Mom standing by the stove. She said something to the figure who just stood there. Holding a glass in her hand Rose turned on a light and saw it wasn't Mom , but some other woman wearing what appeared to be a nightgown.
This woman then turned and walked into the wall.
That's when Rose said she dropped the glass and started screaming. Dad had John clean up the broken glass and finish washing the dishes. John muttered he didn't believe her, but made sure to spend as little time as possible himself in the kitchen.
I was now seriously spooked out. When Mom later asked me to go in the kitchen and get her a glass of water I was very hesitant. I turned on all the lights and opened the fridge.
Damn. I had dumped out the last of the water.
Wanting to be out of the kitchen as fast as possible and afraid Dad would make me go outside to the well for fresh water, I went over to the sink and poured Mom a glass of water. I went in to the living room and gave Mom a drink. She took a drink and gave me funny face.
"Is this water from the faucet ?"
I looked at Mom and lied straight to her face. "No Mom."
Mom looked at me with her best ,"I'm so disappointed look". I could lie to anyone but Mom when she used that look.
"Tom , this water is bad for the baby. If I drink it , it could hurt the baby. Do you want me to drink it?"
Mom just wasn't playing fair I thought.
"No Mom."
"Will you go outside and bring in some fresh water?"
I looked into the dark kitchen. I would rather mow the yard for the next month,I thought. But this was my Mom asking. I put my shoes on and walked into the kitchen and grabbed a water jug. The hairs on the back of my neck were standing on end. I walked to the back door and opened it up. Normally I wasn't afraid of the dark , but it seemed especially dark that night. I called Duke to go out with me. My dog and I ran out to the well and I began to pump the water. The jug was almost full when I heard a menacing growl. I stopped pumping. I stood there a moment afraid to move. Then the growl came again louder this time. Duke bolted to the house with me close behind. I dropped the water jug and water began to spill out. Not wanting to have to come back out I ran back and picked it up. When I got into the house it was less then half full , but enough for Mom to have a drink.
When I got back into the house I found out what made that growl. Dad had went out the front door when I went the back door and circled around the house. He watched me at the well for a second and then growled. He thought it was so funny when I ran into the house he couldn't stop himself from laughing. Rose still shaken by what she said she saw , was even laughing. Even Mom had a smile.
I was less then amused.
From that night on Rose refused to go into the kitchen alone when it was dark. I refused to admit that Rose may have actually seen anything, but I also made sure that I didn't go into the kitchen alone at night any longer myself. I also made sure that we had plenty of fresh water before it got dark.

OK, Maybe Rose isn't Evil So Much As She's Just Nuts

The Events that I'm writing about in Cambridge that took place in 1973 are true. There are no easy answers for some of the things that I witnessed or experienced. I've had John or Geno tell me one time or another of something that happened to them there. But since I have no direct knowledge of the events that they told me about I will not include it here.
There will be two events that I didn't see that I will discuss. The first starting tomorrow involves Rose and the second involved Dad. I will include those because even though Rose was alone at the time we all saw her reaction. I will just write about what happened afterwards and let you decide.
I will include something Dad told me only once. Dad told me this years after the event and long after he quit drinking. My Dad isn't the type of person who believes in things that can't easily be explained. (For that reason he's still not sure if I exist) For Dad to tell me even once makes me lend some credibility to it.
And no. He wasn't joking or playing a prank. This is the sort of thing he would never and has never joked about. My Dad may have a perverse sense of humor but there are some places he just doesn't go.
Rose presents other problems. You see since we moved out of that house Rose likes to think she's at the center of some supernatural nexus. She once thought her daughter was the reincarnation of a deceased friend of mine. She's been convinced her house was haunted many times. One time she even hired demon hunters to drive the evil spirits away. They told her that all they could do was drive the spirits into the water bed. They told her it was an evil bed and shouldn't be used.
She sold me the bed for $20.
What's funny is that when the "demonic " activity continued the demon hunters told her it was because she drained the water bed and released the spirits again. She once again hired them to drive the spirits away.
When I was at her house late one night I discovered the source of the demonic activity. Behind Rose's house is a car wash. Late at night the local teenagers hang out there and play music and talk. When Rose has all her windows up she can't understand what's being said or where it's coming from. So Rose is nuts for believing her house is haunted.
She's also evil for selling me a demonic bed.
So Rose has credibility issues.
I will include what she saw that late summer night in 1973 because other events support it.
I've really been wrestling with the question of what to write about here. When I've told the story to my friends thoughout the years I've left out huge chunks of it. I've made it into a simple haunted house story , and it's not. I'm not sure what type of story it is , but in the end I don't believe it is a ghost story. In the end it's not a very funny story either.
There will be 1 or 2 blogs that will be devoid of humor entirely.
I'm nervous about writing them. I wish I could skip it almost entirely. During the last 30 years I've summed those 1 or 2 blogs up into 1 or 2 sentences. Almost as if they were a punchline to a joke.
My sons Ethan and Isaac deserve more the punchlines. And if they want to know their family they need to know this story is more then just a ghost story.
Whenever I've told my friends about Cambridge during the last 30 years I've made it into a ghost story because that's the easier story to tell.

Brother Can You Spare a Dime?

In mid July of 1973 tragedy struck.
Steve and Kathy were visiting for the weekend, and there was a good fight on that afternoon. So for the first time in ages all the male members of our family sat down to watch a boxing match together. John had popped a bunch of popcorn ,(I wasn't allowed anywhere near the stove any longer.) and Steve had brought plenty of black licorice with him. I don't remember who was fighting (Wasn't Ali) but I do remember it was a good fight. The better the fight was the more Steve would stand up from his seat and scream. During this fight he was on two legs shouting for almost the entire fight.
Until the television went out. One minute there was sound and a picture , the next there was just a small white dot in the middle of the screen. Steve started pounding on the top of the television so hard I was afraid he was going to break it. John franticly turned the power knob on and off.
Before the white dot had faded we were all racing up the stairs to the room I shared with Geno to watch the rest of the fight. Steve was a little hesitant. He was sure my room was haunted. But a good fight was no match for a possible ghost and Steve came in. During the break in rounds everyone but Dad raced back down the stairs grabbed our pop , popcorn , and other snacks and ran back up. When the fight ended we all walked down the stairs and looked at the poor dead television. It's always sad when a TV goes before it's time. Dad decided to try and save it.
Dad had me get the tool box , and told John and Geno to slide it out from the wall and to unplug it. I gave Dad his tools. Steve and Dad crawled behind the set and removed the back.
Televisions 30 years ago were much easier to repair at times then ones now. Other then the big picture tube , there were many other little tubes that made it work. If one of those tubes overheated or burned out the whole thing would crash. Dad took out his flashlight and he and Steve began looking for any obvious burned out tubes. After much searching they didn't see any. Dad told me to run up to the attic and grab one of the Easter baskets up there. He told me to keep the fake grass in it.
I ran up grabbed the basket and returned it to Dad. Dad and Steve began to carefully pull out the tubes and place them gently in the Easter basket. Once they had them all Dad told Steve to run into Kewanee and check them out at the Super X drug store.( I know it sounds like a huge x-rated crack house , but in the 70's it was a chain of Walgreen type stores) Super X was next door to the Grocery store that had the stuffed bears I wanted to buy for the baby. I asked Steve if I could go with him.
Steve looked at me for a moment like he wasn't quite sure what to do with me. Finally he said ok , and I ran up to my room to get my shoes. While up there I snuck up real quick to the attic and grabbed the money I had hidden up there. By this point I had a little over $3.00. I raced downstairs , grabbed the Easter basket full of tubes and went out to Steve's car. Kathy stayed behind to help Mom out in the kitchen. Mom told us to hurry back. Lunch would be ready shortly. Steve smiled and said he would. The last thing I heard Mom shout as we drove off was ,"Drive carefully!"
Steve decided to treat Mom's suggestion the same way he treated the speed limit.
I know I must have rode in a car with Steve before , but for some reason I have no clear memory of it. That 10 mile ride was the most terrifying and exhilarating experience I had up to that point in my life. I swear to God I thought that for much of the ride we were airborne. As far as Steve was concerned if a speedometer went up to 120 , then the car was meant to go to 120. Any less was a waste of car. The entire trip I held on to the Easter basket. I was afraid at any moment the tubes might fly out the window.
In less time then it takes to tell we were in Kewanee. I think it took longer to drive though the town to the Super X then it did to drive to the town. Steve growled at every red light we came to. During this time I asked Steve if I could "Borrow" a couple of dollars. Steve asked why. At first I was going to make up some story about buying a model , but realized he'd know it wasn't true when I showed up with a little teddy bear. Knowing this might be my last chance before the bears were gone I went for broke and told him the truth , that I wanted to buy the bear for mom's new baby and didn't want anyone else to get it first. Steve didn't say anything. He just looked ahead and drove.
When we got to the store Steve had me give him the basket full of tubes. After I did he handed me two dollars and told me to hurry up. Shouting ,"Thank You ! Thank You ! Thank You! ",I ran as fast as I could into the grocery store and grabbed a bear. I was so excited when the lady rang up the price , and told me the total. Smiling I put 2 dollar bills on the counter, followed by a bag full of penny , nickels, and dimes. With one quarter. With a small sigh she counted out what I owed her, and gave me back the rest. Almost jumping up and down with joy I ran into Super X to show Steve.
Steve was standing in front of a booth type machine. It had sockets where you could put a television tube into it. The machine would then power up the tube and tell you if it was good or had blown out. So far Steve had found two tubes that needed replacing. I always suspected this things of giving bad readings forcing people to buy new tubes when they didn't need it.
Steve handed me the basket with good tubes and we went over to where they sold new ones. The bigger of the two we needed was out. Steve asked someone when they'd have new ones and the guy said late next week.
Steve looked at the burnt out tube. "Dad's not going to be happy", he said with a frown. Then he smiled. "Good thing I don't have to live with him." We got in the car and drove home. I put the bear under Steve's seat, and held even tighter to the basket. If possible he drove even faster on the way home then he did to the store. I one point I thought I heard a sonic boom. When I calmed down I realized it was just Steve's car backfiring. We pulled into the driveway to my house so fast I thought Steve was going to flip the car. When he stopped the car a great cloud of dust surrounded us. All the while Steve was grinning from ear to ear.
Steve went in the house with the tubes to tell Dad , that he couldn't fix the television until next week. While Steve did that I slipped the bear out of the car and snuck it up the stairs. Wanting to keep it a secret I went up to the attic and placed it under the floorboard where I had the money . It was still in the brown paper bag that the lady in the grocery store had put it. Just to be safe I put a few old boxes over the space where the board was at. I went down stairs so happy I couldn't keep the smile of my face.
Dad was not smiling. At almost the first moment I stepped downstairs he screamed at me ,"What the hell are you smiling at!?" All during lunch he kept griping about the ,"God Damn cheap televisions", Or God Damn stores not stocking God Damn tubes". He was in such a foul mood that we almost couldn't enjoy our lemon pie that Mom had made.
Almost.
After lunch Dad had us all go outside so he could take a picture of us all together. Mom was happy the family was all together for one day and wanted something to remember it by. Even as Dad took the picture he was still mumbling under his breath about not having any television.



It got so bad that when we came back into the house Mom made an obvious suggestion. "Why don't we bring Geno's TV down until we get ours fixed?"
I thought Geno was going to die choking on his food. I have to admit I wasn't thrilled about it either. That television was one of the only things that made living with Geno bearable. Rose ,whose long dark hair was looking very nice that day, thought it was a lovely idea. Steve told Dad, "I can help bring it down while I'm here." Geno was looking at Steve shaking his back and forth.
Dad looked happier. "Let's go get it now." Dad and Steve got up and walked out of the kitchen. Geno trailed them out protesting that they could just go to Davenport and pick a tube up there. He followed them all the way upstairs. Dad told Geno to go downstairs and move the old TV to his den. Geno very reluctantly obeyed.
Geno's television was larger and heavier then the one downstairs. One end of it had a record player built into the top. So when Dad and Steve got to the stairs they had to be very careful. At one point they had to lift it up where the end with the screen was pointing straight up , and the end with the record player was pointing straight down.
It was then that dimes began to fall out of Geno's television and cascade down the stairs.
There were so many that Steve almost slipped and fell. Dad yelled, "What the hell is that?" Rose and John scooped up as many coins as they could before Dad told them to get away. Steve looked like he was about to break out laughing at any moment. Finally Dad and Steve got the TV to the living room where Geno stood waiting. Geno looked physically ill. Dad sat the set down and screamed at Geno , "What the hell is all this?"
Geno very weakly and unconvincing said ,"I don't know."
"They're not yours? You don't know where they came from?"
"No Dad", Geno said almost so quietly we almost couldn't hear him.
Dad leaned his face inches from Geno's. "Good. Then you won't mind if I take them will you?"
Geno clearly looking like he minded said again,"No Dad."
Under Dad's supervision we all picked up the dimes. Dad counted them. During this time Steve and Kathy slipped out. they wanted nothing to do with what was about to happen. There was almost $20 in dimes on the steps and living room floor. I suggested that maybe there was more still in the TV somewhere. Geno looked like he wanted to kill me. Dad took the back off the set and found hidden under the record player a bag with some more dimes in it. All told there was more dimes left in the bag then what fell out.
Dad walked over to Geno. "Well I'll have more then plenty to fix the television. Enough to buy me some new fishing equipment. Good thing no one is claiming it." He leaned even closer to Geno. "Are they?"
Geno looked like he was going to die. "No sir."
John nailed the final coffin into Geno's coffin. He let it slip to Rose that there were a bunch of suspicious "things" in the shed behind the barn , that might have something to do with all those dimes. Minutes later Rose was dragging Dad outside. It took me many years before I connected those parking meters with Geno's mysterious dimes. Dad took one look and knew where they came from.
I didn't understand what was happening when Dad burst into Geno's room and shouted,"Who the hell do you think you are? Cool Hand Luke?" (In the movie 'Cool Hand Luke', Paul Newman is sent to a chain gang for breaking open Parking Meters)
Geno tried to weakly deny it was his but it was no good. Dad gave Geno many punishments not the least was having to spend 8 hours a day for the next week repeatedly mowing the yard.
Geno thought I had something to do with all this , it made living in his room unbearable. So once again I was moved out and John moved in.
A few days later my new room cooled down again.

The First Of Many "Rose is Evil" Blogs Is Here

Lately people have noticed that I've made many comments about my sister that are less then..........Kind. It's been noted that I've never really showed her doing anything that terrible. In point of fact whenever I mention her she's usually faring worse then I am .
Rose never shot me in the back.
Rose never shut a poorly built French door on my arm.
Rose never walked me into an electric fence
Rose never convinced me Martians were invading our planet.
Rose did not blow up my model airplanes.
Rose never used me as target practice .
Yet I have constantly referred to her with such expressions as," I knew under that smile of hers lay a black heart of pure evil." A few people have asked me why I have done that without showing any reason why.
The answer is simple.
I know underneath Rose's smile is a black heart of pure evil.
Sorry. Couldn't resist.
Why do I do it? Let me tell you a story.
By the time Rose was 17 she had ran away from home over 20 times. All she was interested in was a good party. I couldn't care less if she ran away. In point of fact I had a little ritual everytime she left. I took over her room. I would move my stuff in and her stuff to my old room. She would get mad every time she came back and demanded I move her stuff back. I'd laugh in her face and tell her to just run away again.
Dad always had the police keep an eye out for Rose when she would run away. Most of the police in the area all owed Dad a favor or two and were more then willing to help him. One night they picked Rose up at a party drunk off her ass and with a pocket full of marijuana. This was very embarrassing to Dad (being a alcohol and drug counselor after all), and he became very angry. As a favor to Dad the cops didn't press any charges.
I remember Rose being brought home that night. John and I sat in the living room waiting for Rose to get yelled at. I had the old push mower from Cambridge all ready for Rose to start mowing with. (We lived at the private park at this time. It had a much larger area to mow then Cambridge ever did.) Dad had barely started to yell when Rose began crying that she couldn't help it. She told Dad she was an alcoholic and drug addict. Rose begged Dad for help.
And Dad bought it.
I was stunned. Instead of being punished Rose was signed up for A.A. meetings. Rose attended faithfully for one week before she started skipping out to go partying with friends. Rose was no more an addict then I was, but she knew that was Dad's weak point. What really got me was when she would laugh at how gullible my Dad was.
I told Dad that Rose was deceiving him. He didn't believe me and made me mow the yard for trying to get Rose in trouble. Rose was enraged that I told on her. While I was out mowing someone planted two beer cans under my bed, and arranged for Dad to find them. When I finished mowing I found out I was in more trouble then when I began.
I told Dad it wasn't my beer." I don't even drink that crap", I told him. Geno and John even backed me up. Geno told Dad I wasn't cool enough to have beer cans hidden in my room. Dad ignored them. I was punished for having the beer, and Geno and John were punished for trying to protect me.
I spent my summers swimming in the lake where we lived at. As a result my eyes were almost always bloodshot. Rose told Dad she saw me smoking marijuana. Dad of course believed her. (Just for the record I never drank until I was 20 and even then it was just mixed drinks , and I have never done any drugs. Ever.) I was punished even more.
Rose knocked on my door that night after my parents went to bed. Smiling she told me that I would never win against her. Three days later she ran away again.
Lets review. Rose runs away from home for the 20th time. She gets arrested for drug possession . The police as a favor for Dad drop it. Rose punishment ? One week of AA meetings.
I tell Dad Rose was playing him. Not only am I not believed but I'm punished for drinking and smoking pot.
A helpless little girl? Hardly. .She had us outnumbered. Rose may not have have won every battle she got into with us, but after a while she made sure that they weren't worth winning for anyone.
When Rose fought back it was with a scorched earth policy.
I wasn't even in her league.





Perhaps EVIL is a little strong.
Or Perhaps Not
I don't really think my sister is evil. When I say things like that please keep in mind that I'm writing from the point of view of a boy whose chief nemesis became his sister. My world view was shaped in part by the constant fight between my sister and myself. Sadly some of that still creeps into my writing today.
I don't want this blog to turn into let's run down my sister. She's human after all too.


But since I'm writing under a banner of Rose is evil here's one for the road.

Three years ago she served her dopey husband with divorce papers on ST. Valentines Day. The beautiful part was she waited until they exchanged gifts. He gave her something nice ( I don't remember what), she gave him an envelope with the divorce papers and orders to leave the house that night. He turned into a ball of crying jello.
I told him, "Man this is the best thing to ever happen to you. Really. Run while you can."
He didn't. Two weeks later he got a job making almost twice the money he was making ,while keeping him out of town for 5 nights a week. On that same day Rose remembered that her love for him was great, and she let him move back home.

Valentines Day? That's just cruel. Especially since she had it planned like that for a few weeks.
Anyway in order to make her more of a balanced person , I'll try to find something nice to say about her tomorrow.

Major Matt Mason sleeps with the birds


By late June of 1973 , it was noticeable to everyone that the temperature had fallen in the room I now shared with Geno. The remarkable thing about it was the only one spooked by this was Mom. Geno was delighted to have a nice cool room in the middle of summer. Rose was jealous over it and John was upset about his room not being cool any longer. Dad ignored it all together. Whenever it was brought up to him he just muttered under his breath that we were all nuts.
I wasn't even bothered by the coolness of my room. It wasn't as if it were so cold that you could see you're breath or anything. In point of fact I barely even noticed it after a while. My only problem was Duke was once again no longer sleeping in my room. He had taken to sleeping downstairs on the couch.
I wasn't too bothered by it because I was still very obsessed about finding those dimes. I had even broken down and asked Geno if I could "borrow" some money. He told me he didn't have any money.
"What about all those dimes?", I asked.
"What dimes?"
Not about to give up, I kept looking. My only hope of getting that bear was to find the money. John was no help. I asked him and he told me he didn't know where the money had come from. Geno had showed up with it one day ,and asked John to hide it. After I had stumbled across it , he had hidden it again. This time where even John could not find it.
While I kept looking, I kept scrounging up any loose change I could find. If I saw any money at all I would scoop it up , and hide it in the attic. By the first of July I had close to $2.75. My main worry was that by time I had all the money the last stuffed bear would be gone. My heart was set on getting one of those bears for my new baby brother or sister.
I was so desperate that during the last weekend in June, I took Dad's metal detector and looked for lost coins outside. I was taking a big risk. Dad was very protective of his "toys". If he had saw me using it, I would have ended up mowing the yard once again. So far that morning all I had found were bottle caps and some old nails.
Geno and John were still playing their swordplay game. They were now using old broom sticks for their swords. Geno and John preferred them to the sticks they had been using as they didn't break as easily. They kept offering me a chance to play with them. Not being a complete fool , I kept declining. During my hunt with Dad's detector I made sure to keep a wide distance between myself , the electric fence and my two brothers.
It was sometime around this that Billy first came over.
Billy was the grandson of the elderly couple who lived next door to us. (A mere 3 football fields away.) He had come to spend a couple weeks with his grandparents. He did this every summer , and every summer he was bored out of his mind within a few days. Billy had just arrived expecting another dull visit when he saw to his astonishment, my brothers and I. Billy was so excited when he saw us he grabbed three of the gifts he had gotten on his twelve birthday , and headed our way.
I was so focused on my hunt I didn't see Billy arrive. The first I knew he was there was when Geno and John began yelling at me. I looked up and saw our new neighbor. My brothers were waving me over to meet him. I sat the detector down and walked over to greet him.
John introduced me to him. "Tom this is Billy. Look what he brought with him." To my horror I saw that Billy had brought with him a BB Pistol , a BB Rifle, and a sling shot. I knew nothing good was going to come of this. Geno and John were smiling broadly at me. "We're going to shoot at targets," John said.
Not wanting anything to do with this mess , I backed away from them and returned to my detector. During my hunt I always kept a wary eye on my brothers and their new friend. Within just a few minutes I felt a sharp sting as Geno shot me in the back with the sling shot.
I heard Billy very earnestly tell Geno and John,"Oh no. We aren't allowed to point these at people. We might hurt someone." This poor kid had no idea just what he had stumbled into. I remember thinking why the hell couldn't this kid have G.I. Joes , or anything that wasn't destructive in nature.
Not wanting to be shot at all day , I moved my search slightly behind the barn. All the while I could hear the pops of the two weapons Billy had brought my brothers. They were shooting at some bottles Geno and John had gathered up. While I was doing my best to stay out of their way I heard John shout out my name again. Cautiously I peeked out from behind the barn.
"Hey see if you can find any cans or bottles back there for us to shoot !"
Still not trusting my brothers I nodded .I looked around but didn't see anything. About 30 feet behind the barn was an old shed. I sat down the detector and walked over towards it. There were no cans or bottles around it either. I opened the old door and glanced inside to see if there was anything for my brothers to shoot inside of it.
Inside the old shed, piled high up on the floor were the tops of parking meters. They all read "Time Expired". They didn't look old. I wondered how they all got there. I picked two up and carried them over to my brothers and Billy.
"Will these do?" ,I asked.
John and Billy walked towards me with confused looks on their faces. Geno's eyes grew very large.
"Where'd they come from?", John asked.
I pointed over towards the shed. John held one in his hands. He looked up and slowly turned to Geno. "Parking Meters?"
Geno still looking very nervous just shrugged.
"Put them back", John said. "We can't use them. They're too tough. We need things that can break."
Still confused I carried them back and tossed them in the shed. Something was going on here but I wasn't sure what. I threw them back in the shed and restarted my search for coins. It was a few minutes later when I heard John call me again. Still cautious I peeked again from the side of the barn.
Geno and John had found a new game to play.
John was standing with Billy's sling shot pulled back as far as he was could , pointed straight up in the air. Instead of using a rock or pellet , he had my Major Matt Mason in it. Geno stood a little back holding the BB Rifle. Billy stood next to him holding the BB Pistol. Before I could move Geno shouted ,"Pull!" John shot Major Matt Mason straight in the air. The force was so great his head fell off( As cool as they were, they were cheaply made.) The body flew though the air. Both Geno and Billy took aim and shot at it. I don't believe either hit it.
However the body's flight path took it towards a tree, where it got stuck on a high branch.
I ran over and shouted at the boys,"What the heck did you do that for?"
John looked at me like I had just asked an incredibly dumb question. "Target practice. Didn't mean to get it stuck though. Maybe we can shoot it down?"
For almost ten minutes the boys tried in vain to dislodge the body of Mr' Mason. I held the head of my dismembered astronaut in my hands. A growing anger began to swell up in me. Finally John looked at me. "Well we tried. He isn't coming down. Next good storm should knock him down."
I was becoming livid. "Climb up and get him!"
John laughed. "I'm not climbing up there." Geno nodded. Billy just said, "I'm afraid of heights." (Sadly this was around 6 months before I was to meet Mark. Even at that young age he probably would have climbed up that tree like a monkey and retrieved the body) Being afraid of heights myself ,I didn't press the issue.
John went over and grabbed their next target, one of Rose's Barbie dolls. He got ready to pull her back when I asked,"Can I try and shoot it?"
Thinking that if I engaged in shooting at Barbie, I very well couldn't tell on them for shooting at Major Matt Mason, they happily agreed. Geno handed me the BB Rifle. I stood about twenty feet behind and to John's left. Geno stood next to John. Billy stood next to me.
"Tell me when you're ready", John said.
I aimed at my target and shouted ,"Pull!" John released Barbie and she flew though the air. Unlike my action figure her head stayed on. I took dead aim and shot John in the back. It hit him hard. To my disappointment it didn't penetrate.
He screamed loudly and dropped the sling shot. Geno laughed until he saw me aiming at him. John and Geno both started running away from me.
All the while Billy was yelling, "You're not supposed to aim at people!"
Geno was so intent on running away from me he ran straight into the electric fence. It was only a glancing blow but it was still enough to make him scream a little. I fired a second time and missed. By this time John had gathered his wits some. Before I could pump the rifle up a third time he ran over and yanked it from me. John angrily finished pumping it up and took point blank aim at me. I just stood there glaring at him.
Before John could pull the trigger we all heard my Dad's very angry voice. " WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON OUT HERE?" Poor Billy just stood there too afraid to move. Both Geno and John looked like they saw the devil himself charging at them. I smiled.
Running over to Dad I began sobbing, "Daddy they were trying to shoot me!"
Dad reached John and yanked the rifle out of his hands. "Are you two brain dead? I haven't finished paying for the last time one of you nitwits shot him!"
John said ,"But he shot me first!"
Billy agreed with John."He did sir. Also he chased the other one there into the electric fence!" Geno nodded furiously.
Dad looked at Billy. "Who the hell are you?" At that point Billy just broke down crying. Dad looked at the rifle, and pistol. He didn't see the sling shot laying where John had dropped it. "Where the hell did these come from?"
We all pointed at Billy. Dad shouted at Billy, "Go home. And don't ever come back with anything that can shoot anyone again!" Billy ran away so fast he tripped several times. ( The remarkable thing was he came back a few times to play with us. His weapons remained at his grandparents) Dad turned to me.
"Did you really shoot at them first? Did you chase Geno into the electric fence?"
"Yes Dad. But it was after they had broke my Major Matt Mason !" I showed him Matt's severed head.
Dad gave a little sigh. "Tom you're going to be a big brother soon. You have to start acting like it. Is this how a big brother acts?"
I didn't answer right away. Was this a trick question? I stared at Dad wondering what he wanted me to say.
"No?' That appeared to be the right answer. Dad turned his attention to my brothers.
"And what the hell were you doing out here shooting with those things to begin with? You know your mother would have a fit if she saw you!" Geno and John both began trying to answer at the same time. They seemed to be trying to blame the other. Finally Dad just yelled for them to all shut up.
"I want you all to mow the yard. Maybe that'll keep you busy enough to stop trying to kill each other!"
Geno looked like he was going to cry. "But Dad, I just mowed the yard yesterday."
Dad turned to walk away. "And you're going to mow it again today. And whoever left my detector laying on the ground put it back before I get really mad!"
Between the three of us we got the mowing done pretty fast. As I went in I saw John had picked up Billy's sling shot that he had left behind. Geno tied Rose's Barbie doll to a tree branch and they were using it as a target. Naturally I went in and told Rose. Rose ran out of the house screaming.
Within minutes they were mowing the yard again. This time Dad had them mow untill the sun went down.
I put Matt's head in the cigar box that contained all the G.I. Joe stuff I had found to date. Matt's body never did come down while we lived there. As far as I know it's still sitting up there.

A special saturday blog that has nothing to do with cold rooms or mysterious dimes.

My Dad is Meaner then Your Dad

How scary is my Dad's glare?

In the summer of 1983 when my Mom was running the private park , a group of European college kids bicycling across America stopped outside the gate. They very nicely asked if they could perhaps spend the night. It was a very hot day and they were tired. I went in the house and asked Dad what he thought. He didn't think it would be a problem , but wanted to meet them first.
Dad and I walked outside and over to where the bikers were. It was a very sunny day and Dad had his arm raised up a bit to shield his eyes from the glare. When we got to the group of young men Dad lowered his arm , and smiling looked right at them. The young man who was closest to my Dad moved away just a little bit. The others looked very nervous.
Not noticing this ,Dad told them it was ok to spend the night as long as they didn't make to much noise or bother the other campers.
One of the bikers nervously thanked Dad, but said they had decided to push on a little further. They turned the bikes around , and peddled away .
Dad was perplexed. Why didn't they stay? I looked at my Dad and started laughing.
"What's so funny?", he asked.
When Dad was talking to the young men he was facing into the bright mid day sun. To protect his eyes he was kinda squinting.
Which made it look like he was glaring at them.
What was even more frightening to these young men was that my Dad was also smiling his best fake ,"Glad to meet you ", smile. The result of the glare and the smile was very (however unintentionally) unnerving.
Dad was unconvinced."I scared them off?"
"Yeah. You glared at them."
"I didn't glare at them !" Dad sounded very insulted. Which meant he thought it was funny as hell.
"They thought you did."
Dad headed back towards the house. He stopped before he went in and looked at me with an almost confused expression." They ran away because they thought I was looking at them mean?" He shook his head. "Probably French."
With that he went back in the house.

Knock Knock

By early June of 1973 there was no denying that there was something very odd about my room. Outside it would be a warm day in the upper 70's or 80's. But inside my room it was always noticeably cooler. It was anywhere between 5 to 10 degrees cooler in there then anywhere else in the house. When relatives came over to visit they would be taken up to my room . Everyone would laugh and joke about how it was "haunted." It's hard to explain but I wasn't afraid or nervous at all about staying in that room.
Only my Mom seemed concerned about my room. She wasn't sure she wanted her youngest son sleeping in a potentially haunted room. It didn't bother me any. I liked having my own room. However Mom kept making a fuss over it until I was moved out and John moved in. ( I thought it was funny that she didn't mind John sleeping in there.)
Luckily for me Geno and John had been getting into more and more fights recently. So it was decided to move John out of the room he shared with Geno and to move me in. I didn't mind so much because Geno's room was large and came with a color television and record player. I also knew that somewhere in that room was a canvas bag with a ton of dimes in it. John didn't mind because he was getting away from Geno. Also he got a nice cool room in the middle of summer all to his own.
Another big bonus for me was that Duke would sleep in my bed again. Plus it was still like having my own room. Geno spent a lot of time gone once summer started. He would go visit Steve in Davenport and hang out with old friends. Even when he was there we didn't have much trouble between us. So long as I minded my own business and he minded his we got along well.
For once.
Mom seemed even happier then she was just a short while earlier. And we all profited from that happiness. Mom ,always a good and plentiful cook , had kicked into overdrive lately. Every meal she cooked far more then we could eat. Not that we didn't try, but there was just no way we could keep up with that woman's cooking. My new best friend Paul was always begging to come over and visit since there was always a pie or two on the stove and cookies in the oven. After a visit from Steve Mom would load him up with plenty of food for that long 39 minute drive home.( Actually if it was a 39 minute drive for us it would have been more like a 22 minute drive for Steve. Maybe less.)
All that cooking from Mom meant I was going out and bringing in more water from the well. It also meant that we were doing more grocery shopping. At least twice a week Mom and Dad would drive to Kewanee for food. Dad would say she needed to buy the massive amounts of food because she wanted to fatten us up and eat us.
Dad really knew how to make a pregnant woman feel good about herself.
On one such trip my parents took me with them. Usually they would let me go with them only to make me wait in the car while they went in the store to do their shopping. However since it was hot out that day they let me go in with them. In the front of the store near the checkouts was a display with some stuffed animals. Mom stopped and looked at them for a moment. She made a comment about how cute they were. Dad just grumbled something about not liking "cute" things. Mom looked at one bear in particular for a while then put it down. After my parents moved off, I looked at the bear. The price tag said $3.95 .
I stood there lost in thought. Wouldn't that be a nice gift for the baby, I thought. I remember thinking that if I gave the new baby a toy before anyone else it might like me more.
The problem was I had less then a dollar left from my bribe money. I had spent most of it on candy.
All the way home I kept thinking about that bear. I asked Dad if I could be paid to mow the lawn. All he did was laugh. I asked him if I could borrow $4. He laughed even more. Mom asked me what I wanted it for. I said I wanted to buy a model of the Enterprise. Mom said that I didn't need a model.
I was afraid if I told her, the other kids would try to buy it first. I didn't trust my siblings.( Especially Rose. She was always trying to make everyone think she was such a goody two shoes. But I knew under that smile of hers lay a black heart of pure evil.) If I was going to do this I knew I'd have to be careful. Also I knew how I was going to get the money.
Somewhere in our house there was a bag full of dimes. I knew I'd have to find it before Geno and John spent it.
When we got home I redoubled my efforts to find that bag. I looked everywhere I could think of in Geno's room. I expanded my search to John's room. As expected they had moved the bag out of the trunk. I left John's room empty handed. In between our two doors was the door to the attic. No one went up there. Maybe they had hidden it up there? While I was up there I found a loose floorboard. I lifted it up. It was empty. I sat down on the top step. I was starting to fear that they had spent it all. Then I thought to myself,"If they spent it, where's the empty bag?"
I lay in bed late that night wondering where it could be.
Two days later while Geno and John were outside I saw a pair of Geno's pants laying on the floor. I picked it up and went though the pockets. I found 60 cents in dimes. He still had some of his loot. I took the money and went up to the attic. Taking the 80 cents I had left from before and the 60 cents I just found gave me $1.40. I pried the floorboard up and hid my money there. Outside I could hear the sounds of firecrackers and bottle rockets.
I went down the stairs. The smell of Mom's newly made chocolate pies filled the air. Mom was no where in the kitchen. Outside I could now hear Rose screaming. I went out the backdoor to find Rose yelling at John while holding a Barbie doll. Mom stood there with a disappointed look on her face.
It seemed John had put the Barbie doll on a low tree branch and was using it as target practice for some bottle rockets. From it's smoking condition I'd say he had hit it a few times. During all this commotion Dad pulled into the driveway. Rose immediately ran over to Dad and showed him the Barbie doll. Tears flowed from her eyes.
"Can't I even get in the house before I have to hear this?" Dad walked over towards John. "Don't you have anything of your own to blow up?"
John looked very perplexed. "Why would I want to do that?"
"Mow the yard," Dad ordered.
"I just mowed it two days ago!"
"Mow it again." Dad walked in the house. John shot Rose a angry glance. (John's attitude seemed to be that Barbie was asking to have bottle rockets shot in her face.) Rose smiled at him and went in the house. Geno and I stayed outside for a little ,listening to John moan about mowing the yard twice in 3 days. We were all starting to hate that push mower.( This was not a motorized mower. When I say push mower I mean Push mower.) John was still whining minutes later when Dad yelled out the back door, "I don't hear any mowing out there."
Later while John was still outside mowing we were all sitting in the living room watching television. We all jumped when something started scratching on the closed door of Dad's den. At first we thought it was Duke. But a quick look showed Duke sleeping on the dining room floor. The scratching became even louder.
"What is it?", Mom asked.
Dad looked at the shaking door. "Maybe one of the wild cats got in though the window?" The scratching stopped for a moment, then started up even more intense. The door was shaking. "It could be a raccoon." The noise had woken up Duke who was now standing in front of the door growling. After a couple more moments it stopped. Dad looked over at Geno.
" Open the door. See what's in there."
Geno shook his head back and forth. "I'm not going in there."
Dad glanced my way.
"Don't even look at me," I said. I wasn't going near that door.
Just then John came in from mowing. His shirt was off and he was covered in sweat. He was about to go upstairs when Dad said,"John get me a pencil from my office." John looked like he was going to say something , but thought better of it. He walked over to door and opened it. We all got ready to get up and run.
But there was nothing in there.
John walked over to Dad's desk , grabbed a pencil , and went to give it to Dad . We were all staring into Dad's office. John stood there holding the pencil. A confused look spread over his face.
"What's everyone looking at?"
Ignoring him we all went into Dad's office. Every window was shut. All the register vents were closed. Dad looked under his desk. I looked up towards the ceiling. We couldn't find anyway to get in or out of that room.
"What is going on?", John asked again.
"Maybe it was the wind?", Mom suggested.
Geno pointed at the open door. We all stopped and stared.
The bottom of the door was covered with scratches.
We never did find out what did it. Everyone talked about it all night. I was still thinking about it when I went to bed. For the first time in days I wasn't obsessed about Geno's stash of dimes. Finally I convinced myself that somehow an animal had gotten in and out without us noticing. Tired from a long day of fruitless searching I rolled over to go to sleep.
Just before I drifted off, something occurred to me.
My new room had gotten very cool.

Freaking French

The winner is...Dave.
When I was four years old, the same day I got out of the hospital I put my arm though a French door and almost died from blood loss. I ended up with over 200 stitches in my arm alone. (Mom says closer to 300) Combine that with the scar on my side and I have well over 1000 stitches in me.
The first time I ever heard the word French was Dad screaming at the top of his lungs,"God Damn French Doors!"
Steve was my brother. He didn't mean to shoot me. I don't think a day went by that he didn't feel bad about it.
But the French? They meant to build that door. That was just shoddy workmanship. Honestly, have you ever heard of a boy almost bleeding to death after running his arm though a German door? Or a good old American solid oak door?
I didn't know anything about the French for years other then they had the singularly bad idea to build doors with cheap breakable glass.
I didn't meet anyone from France until my college days. Of course he had to come across as your typical rude Frenchman.
I don't remember what he said , but I do remember screaming as I was being carried away by friends ,"Well at least we don't fall down and play dead everytime there's a German in the room! And We Can Build Decent God Damn Doors!!"
So that started my feelings for the French.
Again as anyone who knows me can tell you , once you've gotten on my bad side it's very hard to get back on my good side. The French haven't even tried.
Plus they gave us Mimes.
Mimes?
And they talk about our culture......


Why Blog?
My friend Mark wanted me to do this. I've joked that he thinks he's going to get this all published one day and earn a standard 85% editors fee.
But that's not why I'm doing this.
I want to leave my children a sense of where they came from. So often all we know of our past are photographs that mean very little to us. Mom saying to us ,"that's Uncle so and so." I want to give my family more. 30 years from now I want my grandkids to have a sense of me as a child. I want them to know what sort of man their Great grandfather was.
I want them to hear these stories before they are gone for good.
So Yes. These stories are true. I say this because I'm going to be writing about some hard to believe stuff in a little bit. Some of it My Friends know. Some of it they don't. But it is true. Of course many times I've said,"Man this is hard to believe but...."
But this is true. I don't want to leave my children lies.
I've already said I know very little of Dad's childhood. I know much less about his Father's whole life. As to my Great Grand Father , all I know about him was that he was a gunfighter who rode with Pancho Villa.
So before this is all lost I want to save what I can. It'll take a while to write down all my misadventures and deeds. After they are done and organized ,I plan on taking this to kinko's and printing up 5 or 6 copies.
Of course if Mark can get a book deal I ain't gonna stop him.
So my question today to you is why do you blog? What do you want to get out of this? Do you want it to be another diary or do you have something else in mind? If you do what would it be?

Jiffy Pop Popcorn is the Devil's Food


In all my life I had never seen my Mom so happy. Since she told us she was pregnant it seemed she never stopped smiling. Even Dad was very happy about it. He wasn't smiling but he wasn't frowning either. In our house that made all the difference. Dad and Mom were acting like lovebirds all the time lately. Dad was now sitting on the couch with Mom when we watched television instead of sitting in his own chair.
Of course no one could sit in Dad's now empty chair. Geno sat in it once while Dad was in his den. Dad saw Geno in it , got up and came into the living room and said," You're in my chair." Later on Dad saw him in it again. 5 minutes later Geno was outside mowing our huge lawn with a push mower. After that we never sat in his chair until we could hear him snoring upstairs.
Other than the Chair we found that to a certain extent we could get away with much greater range of misdeeds then before. We knew it wasn't going to last so everyone took as much advantage of it as we could. Geno and John even tried to make Dad happier by replacing his broken records.
One day in late May of 1973 Geno showed up with a box full of records. Some were replacement records for Rose , and some were for Dad. The rest were for him and John. I think that box included every Beatles album made. Dad asked where Geno got all those albums. He said that while riding around with the Pena brothers he found a yard sale and they were selling all these. Dad was suspicious of why someone would be selling all these records , especially since many were unopened. Not wanting to upset his good mood Dad decided not press the issue.
Later on that weekend John showed up with a box full of comic books. John also said he bought these at a yard sale. Dad wanted to know if it was the same sale that Geno got his records. John made a nervous laugh and said ,"Geno went to a yard sale too? I didn't see him at the one I was at." Dad was amazed his 14 and 15 year old sons were making yard sale rounds , and getting such great deals too. He gave John a prolonged stare , but again didn't press the issue.
This was seriously freaking me out. Rose was acting all nice and sweet once she had her records returned. Geno and John (Obviously hiding something) were acting like perfect angels. Mom was practically singing while she did the housework. And Dad wasn't yelling at anyone. He even was smiling every now and then. Nobody was plotting against anyone! I was beginning to wonder whose house I was living in.
During the next few days I looked in the newspaper for any clues about these strange "Yard Sales" , that my brothers had stumbled on to. I also watched the news at night. Whatever they did they hid it well. I never did find anything I could pin on them . My frustration began to grow.
One day ,shortly after school had ended for the year , I was laying on my bed reading one of the comics John had bought at his "Yard Sale". My door was open and I could see Duke sleeping in the hallway. It was a very warm spring day but my room was still nice and cool. My window was open and a nice warm breeze was blowing in. Outside I could hear Geno and John playing around the electric fence again. (I remember Dad making a comment that maybe all that Electro Shock Treatment might do them some good.)
I quietly snuck down the hallway into their room. Maybe there I'd find some clue as to what was going on. Duke woke up and followed me in to their room. I started searching their room. At first I found nothing too suspicious. There was a Playboy under John's bed , Geno had a couple cans of beer hidden in the closet, but nothing that explained their sudden good fortune.
Then I noticed John's trunk. He kept art supplies and such in it. To make sure no one wasted his oil paints or paper he always kept it locked. I looked at it for a moment then left their room. I went across the hallway and looked out Mom and Dad's bedroom window. They were still outside. I went back to their room and sat down by the trunk and studied the lock. Within 5 minutes I had picked it and the trunk was open.
I studied the contents. I had seen the inside of the trunk many times , so it didn't take long for me to notice the large canvas bag in the back corner. Opening the bag I saw it was full of dimes . Hundreds and hundreds of dimes.
The bag was so heavy I could barely lift it.
Where the heck did they get all this? If they found a way to sneak into another gas station where were all the quarters? Besides there were way too many dimes to have in a cash register. I looked over at Duke.
"You've been sleeping in here dog. Where'd they get all this?"
Duke just looked at me , keeping whatever secrets he had to himself.
Just then John opened the door and saw me by his open trunk. I got up and backed towards the window. Geno followed John into the room.
"What are you doing in here," John yelled. Geno looked like he was going to kill me. He ran over and picked up the bag of dimes. Holding it up it looked like it would fill a coffee can. John looked very nervous and shut the door. Duke got between me and my brothers.
" If you do anything I'll yell", I said. "I'll tell Mom and Dad about that money." Geno and John were looking at each other now. I hadn't seen Geno this nervous since he stole the wrong red bike. For a long moment we just looked at each other. My heart was beating very fast. I hoped they didn't notice how scared I was.
Finally Geno broke the silence. "What do you want?"
"I want a G. I. Joe!"
"We can't get you a G.I. Joe! Mom and Dad would notice that. Ask for something else."
We argued over the G.I. Joe issue for a while. Finally we reached a compromise. 5 comic books , 2 dollars , and a package of Jiffy Pop Popcorn
I had been asking Mom and Dad for Jiffy Pop Popcorn for as long as I could remember.( In 1973 we didn't have microwave popcorn. And the commercials made Jiffy Pop look so cool. You just stick it on the stove , turn on the heat and move it back and forth. Within minutes you had popcorn . All you had to do was turn off the stove and open the top.) Dad didn't want to get it because it wasn't enough for the whole family. Besides he said with my luck I'd burn the house down.
2 days later I had my books. John snuck them into the house and up to my room. There were two Werewolf by Night's, one Tomb of Dracula , one Marvel Team Up, and one Hulk comic. John also gave me 20 dimes and my Jiffy Pop.
" Ok . If you say anything now , You'll be in just as much trouble as we are."
I didn't care. I was rich ( 2 dollars went a long way back then.) and had my snack food. I planned a grand evening for myself. First I would pop my popcorn. Then I would sneak it up to my room and lay in bed ,read my books and listen to my radio.
I should have asked for root beer as well , I thought. Oh well , maybe next time.
A little later that afternoon Dad was outside with Mom . He had his metal detector out and was walking around the yard looking for lost coins. I wanted to suggest looking in John's trunk but decided to keep quiet. After a while I went back in the house and got my Jiffy Pop.
I carefully read the directions and turned on the stove. I started moving the cheap aluminum foil pan back and forth across the stove. Within seconds I could hear the corn start popping. It smelled so good. I must have been doing something wrong because it stopped popping before it was even a quarter done. I turned the stove off. I looked at the top of the package and tried to see how much popcorn had popped. I couldn't see in so I tore open I little hole ,, just to get a peak.
It looked like I hadn't even popped hardly any of it. I turned the stove back on and started again. This time I turned the flame on high. Within seconds it was popping again. This time it didn't smell so good. As more popped the aluminum foil top began to expand. And the hole I tore in the top grew bigger. A black smoke began to pore out of the top. Popcorn began to pop right out of the hole I had torn and spill out all over the stove.
I knew I had done something really wrong when it caught fire.
Panic overtook me and I turned off the stove and threw the Jiffy Pop into the trash can. A little scared I went over and opened the two kitchen windows to air out the kitchen. When I turned around from the window I saw that trash can was now on fire!
Smoke was pouring out of the can. I ran into to the sink and filled a koolaid pitcher with water. I poured it into the trash can. Even more smoke came out. Deep into panic mode now , I picked it up and carried it out the back door and threw it outside on the ground. I was coughing very loudly.
Dad ran up to me
"What the hell are you doing!"
I tried to explain that something had gone horribly wrong with the Jiffy Pop.
"Where the hell did you get Jiffy Pop?"
My first instinct was to say I got it at a yard sale. But I knew that he wouldn't buy that at all. My second and stronger instinct was to rat out my brothers. I figured that my little accident would be forgotten if I told Dad about the mysterious bag of dimes up in John's trunk.
For some reason I didn't. I lied and said that I saved up lunch money that I had at the end of the school year and bought the Jiffy Pop with it. Mom and Dad believed that and yelled at me . The money they gave me was for lunch only, they said. If I used it for something else it was the same as stealing. They sent me to my room.
I laid in bed pouting for the rest of the night. Duke sat in the hallway looking at me with almost sad eyes. Downstairs I could hear everyone laughing at me. I had never set the kitchen on fire before , but I was fairly sure I was going to get punished big time for it. Later on that night John came in and offered to buy me another Jiffy Pop for not telling on them . I said no thanks. The last thing I needed was to be caught with another one of those damn things.
Dad's good mood ended that night.
The next day for my punishment, I mowed the yard for the first time. It took me the better part of the day. When I was done Dad asked me if I had learned a lesson.
I had.
I learned that Jiffy Pop was a crappy product that started fires.
I've never bought it since.

Cheese eating surrender monkeys.
OK.
On Mondays Wednesday and Friday's I will post my .......drivel as usual. On Tuesdays and Thursdays I will open up with odd topics or whatever is on my mind.
So today's topic class ;

Why do I dislike the French?

The first person that can correctly answer this question will win a shiny new quarter. The answer is right here in this blog. I'll give you one hint however. I'm no Johnny come lately French basher. I've disliked them for a long time. Just ask anyone who knows me. (Mark that's your cue) In fact I'd like to think that my views on the French have shaped current world views on our garlic eating friends.
But even Mark doesn't know the root cause for my dislike. ( If you notice I say dislike not hate. If I truly hate someone or something They know it.) My wife doesn't even know the real cause. But it is here , buried somewhere in my blog.
So lets see how many people read this enough to glimmer out the truth.


And No , I will not award any points to answers such as ,"because they are French." While technically correct I need a better answer.


(If you are French and are offended by this please see my sincere apology of Sept 9.)





Sad fact about me 3
When I was 3 my father would always talk about our Mexican heritage ( Even though I have just enough for the last name. My Mom is almost 100% pure Irish. Dad is only around half Mexican.) He'd say stuff like ,"Tonight we'll eat like Mexicans". (Whatever the hell that's supposed to mean) My blunt reply to every Mexican comment at age three?
"I'm not Mexican .I'm German."
I told people that for years. I'm not sure where I got that , or why I said it , but I'm fairly sure my brothers had something to do with it.

I Get The Shock Of My Life


By late March or early April 1973, we had pretty much settled in to our new home. The only thing wrong with the house was that we could not drink the water. The landlord told us that something was wrong with it , and it was not fit to drink. We had to bring water in from a well that was just outside and to the side of the back door. Within a very short amount of time it was just part of the routine. When drinking water was low we took the water jugs outside and filled them back up.
Actually when I say "we" I meant "me". Being the youngest had many drawbacks one of which was having to do all the crap that the others didn't want to do. So very early on in our new home I began to hear the cries of "Water boy!". Dad even started calling me that. When I complained about it he told me that," Gunga Din started out as a water boy and look where he ended up." Not sure how to answer that I just stayed quiet and got the water. I would have complained to my Mom but she seemed very distant lately, like she had something on her mind.
We all made friends rapidly at our new school. At that point we were all used to being the "new kid" in school, so it was no big deal anymore. Even within that first month we all had new friends stop by and visit us. Very soon we were all completely at ease in new home.
The only thing to strike me odd was that my dog, Duke was sleeping more and more in Geno and John's room. I couldn't understand why. Duke didn't even particularly like Geno and John. I suspected they were hiding dog treats in his room. Mom thought that Duke wanted to be in a warmer room then mine. My room was still a little cooler then all the other rooms , but Dad said that would change soon with summer soon on it's way.
Outside however Duke would always be by my side. We spent plenty of time together checking out the farm land. There was a nice area of land that came with the house. I would pretend that we were on some great adventure together.
Our adventures were much safer now that Geno and John had been deprived of their dreaded sling shots. At last I could walk around without fear of a rocky projectile hitting me in my back. My brothers were not as happy about this as I was. Geno and John had spent the first week after Dad took the sling shots trying to figure out where he had hid them. They spent the second week trying to rig-up substitute sling shots to shoot at me. All that did was leave John with a big red welt on his face when it back fired on him.
Around the third weekend after we moved into the house, Dad and Mom left for the morning to do some errands. Dad warned everyone that if anything was broken or ruined when he got back he would kill the whole lot of us. So to be on the safe side we spent most of our time outdoors in the warm spring day where there were less things to break.
Rose was riding her bike up and down the long driveway. Geno and John , needing new ways to beat themselves senseless, had taken sticks and made a crude sort of sword out of them. They went to the far back corner of our property and began to hack away at each other.( Years later I would come up with a far more elegant version of this game with points for each hit and so forth. Geno and John's only goal it seemed was to find out who could break the sticks over the other's head first.) Since my brothers were at the back of our large yard Duke and I were exploring around the front of the house. I figured as much distance as humanly possible between me and my brothers was probably in my best interest.
Whoever had lived here before us had a boy who played with G.I. Joes . From almost the first moment we had moved in I was finding G.I. Joe equipment all over the yard and house. Since I desperately wanted a G.I. Joe for my own I was trying to collect all the things this kid had left behind. I was hoping that soon I'd get one of my own and could use all the stuff I had found with my own action figure. (Girls play with dolls. Boys play with Action Figures. ) On this day I was looking under the porch. While under there I had found a rifle and a shirt for G.I. Joe. I wondered how much G.I. Joe stuff this kid had, not to care he left all this behind. My great hope was that this bozo had left a G.I. Joe itself somewhere around here.
As I was under the porch for a second look I heard John scream very loudly. I figured Geno had knocked him over the head and had won their game. A little later as I was crawling out from under the porch I heard Geno scream, even more loudly. Good I thought. They've both been knocked silly today. Grabbing my new found treasure I went in the house and ran up to my room. Duke waited outside my door while I put the G.I. Joe shirt and rifle in a cigar box I had under my bed. I was finding so much stuff that pretty soon and I was going to need a bigger box.
As I walked out of the room I walked right into John. He was holding two tennis rackets in his hands. One was wooden, the other metal.
"Come here we want to show you something." He sounded very excited. I didn't trust him.
"You're going to hit me with those aren't you?"
John looked at the rackets in his hands as if that thought hadn't occurred to him yet. "No . No. We found something that we want to show you ..Before Rose gets it. It's something you really want. "
Rose might want this? I better get there first, I thought. Maybe it was some more G.I. Joe stuff. Maybe it was a G.I. Joe itself? If Rose found one she'd never let me have it. I followed John down the stairs and out the back door. After we got close to where Geno was waiting , John told me to close my eyes.
"Why", I asked.
"It'll make the surprise better."
I was suspicious again. "You sure you're not going to hit me?"
John smiled a big smile. "I promise you. I won't touch you with these."
I was still a little unsure but I thought to myself ,"What's the worse that could happen?" I closed my eyes and walked forward like John told me. My hand touched a wire.
.......
I've been sitting here for a few minutes trying to figure out some way to write about walking ,with my eyes closed, straight into a electric fence without using the words shocking and electrifying. I don't think it can be done.
.......
I literally had the shock of my life. I screamed and tried to let go of the fence, but I couldn't. Electricity was shooting though me. Geno finally pulled me off getting a shock himself. Geno and John were both laughing.
"Wasn't that cool", John asked. " We've been seeing who can get closest without touching it."
"Show him the rackets", Geno said.
"Yeah that's why I have these. You can touch the fence with the rackets and not get shocked." John took the wooden racket and touched the electric fence with it. 'See?" He threw me the metal racket. "Go ahead and touch it."
Carefully I lowered the racket and touched the fence , discovering the hard way that metal conducts electricity. This time after I screamed John just used the wooded racket to push me back. I landed on the ground still in shock. Geno and John laughed even harder that time. Then Geno noticed Rose over by the barn.
"Quick go get her."
John ran off and within minutes he was walking Rose towards the fence with her eyes closed. Rose thought she was going to see a litter of baby kittens. As John passed where I was sitting ,I stood up. John stopped right next to the fence.
"OK just walk ahead a couple of feet."
Before Rose could walk a step ,I shoved John as hard as I could into the fence. Rose opened her eyes and started screaming. John was screaming even more loudly. I took off running as fast as I could. Behind me Geno pulled John away from the fence and they both took off after me. Rose was following close behind. I wasn't sure whose side she was going to be on, and I wasn't sticking around to find out. I was almost to the house when Dad's car pulled into the driveway.
I turned around and stuck my tongue out at my brothers.
My parents got out of the car. They were both smiling. Mom looked at us."I want everyone in the house. I have something to say." Mom turned and walked into the house. Very curious we all followed.
Inside Mom sat at the kitchen table , still smiling. Dad stood right behind her with his hands on her shoulders.
" Tom I have bad news for you. You aren't going to be the youngest in the family much longer. I'm going to have a baby!"
We all immediately forgot the electric fence. I remember Rose literally screaming with joy. I joked that by time the baby was 18 Steve was going to be an old man with a cane. Everyone was laughing and talking all at the same time. Mom told us that the baby was due in early December , right around my birthday or John's birthday.(December 1st and December 2nd).
Dad told us that we were all going out for dinner that night , but right now he wanted to be alone with Mom. He told us to go back outside and play. We did as Dad told us. Rose got back on her bike. Geno and John headed back towards where the electric fence was. I sat on the back steps still stunned. Finally I was going to be a big brother.
I thought of how my older siblings had treated me. I looked over at Geno and John ,who were already trying to knock each other senseless with those sticks again. I promised myself I would never be the type of big brother who would walk my little brother into a electric fence.
Or shoot him.
Or run him though a glass door.
Or break all his model airplanes.
Or break his records.
I would be a good big brother.
Around that time I noticed that Geno and John were getting very close to that electric wire again. With Duke close behind me I snuck off towards them. I was fairly sure I could surprise one of them and shove him into the fence.

The Day The Music Died

According to Dad , the nicest thing about moving to a house in the country was getting away from all those "Peanut Heads" we had for neighbors. Mom on the other hand was the type of lady who wanted to get to know all the people around us. She would invite all our neighbors over one at a time for dinner. If they had kids Mom would volunteer to babysit if they needed. At the end of the dinner Mom would make sure our new neighbors felt welcome to visit at anytime.
Dad would make it clear by his attitude that "anytime" meant whenever he wasn't home. Dad would tell me that just because you lived next to someone it didn't mean you automatically had to like them. He had no problem letting everyone know how he felt.
This is another thing that I inherited from Dad.
One time one of our neighbors stopped Dad as he was coming home. The clueless bozo said, "Hey Gene you've never stopped by my house for dinner or drinks. Don't you like us?"
Dad glared at the man until he went away. He never bothered Dad again.
(When I say glare , I mean the stare from hell. Dad's glare was all eye. He never frowned or changed facial expression. One moment Dad was looking at you , the next the eyes changed and you would feel great fear. Mark once said of my Dad's glare ,"If he could turn his eyeballs around he would melt his brain to mush .")
Even with Dad actively sabotaging her efforts , Mom always managed to make friends where ever she went. She was truly yin to his yang.
So on March 8 , 1973 as we moved into this old farm house outside Cambridge , Illinois , Dad was as happy as I'd ever seen him. The nearest neighbor was more then 300 yards away. After that it was half a mile in any direction.
As Dad got out of the moving van we had rented he joked," Now I can whip all you kids and no one will ever hear."
Mom playfully slapped Dad in back of the head."Be nice Gene" she said.
The first time I went into that house was though the back door. I found myself in a nice large Kitchen. Behind the kitchen was a room that just had the cabinets and sink. In front of the Kitchen was an even bigger dining room. Off to that was a huge living room . In the living room was two doors. One led to the stairs upstairs and the other was a den.
Immediately at the top of the stairs to the left was a bedroom. Another larger bedroom was straight across from the top of the stairs. After that bedroom the hallway took a turn to the right and at that end were 2 more bedrooms( one small ,one Master) and a bathroom. In the middle of the hallway was another door that went to the attic.
Everyroom in the house had the most beautiful hardwood floors I had ever seen to that point in my life. What was even cooler was that whoever had lived there before had left many things behind. Dad said the landlord said we could use anything in the house we wanted to . The dining room came complete with a big table and chairs. The den came with a large desk and chair. One of the bedrooms came with a nice sized console television. In that same room were some built in bookshelves. It was loaded with many 50's detective novels among them were a bunch of Ellery Queen books.
But the greatest treasure was the attic.
Walking up the stairs and into the full attic was like walking into an antique store. There was everything from radios straight out of the 40's to an old box of magazines full of old monster books and newer Creepy and Eerie books. ( These had by far the coolest covers I had ever seen.) In one corner there was an old brass bed , complete with mattress and springs. There was a collection of records , next to a set of books about the old west. There was even an old Victrola , that was taller then me. The one item that was coveted by all the kids ( cept me) was an old Motorola Portable Record Player.
Rose immediately began fighting over who got to keep it. John and Geno insisted that they had the more records so therefore they should get to keep it. Besides Rose listened to all that girlie stuff. Who wanted to listen to that? Rose started pouting .
"But Daddy, I was going to listen to some of your records too."
Rose got the record player. She also got the first room just to the left of the stairway. Geno and John got the bigger bedroom(with the TV) next to that. I got the bedroom right across from Mom and Dads room.
I was thrilled. I had never before had my own room. At one time all 4 of us boys shared a room. Now I had a bedroom of my very own. The reason I ended up with it was because it was a bit colder then the other rooms. Dad thought it was because it was a corner room that took all the wind. He messed with the window a bit, then told me I'd live.
I didn't care. I had a room all to myself. That room could have been 20 degrees cooler and it wouldn't have mattered to me. Finally the only one I was sharing a room with was my dog. And he slept on the floor.
Once we all unloaded the moving van I started to fix my room up. At last ,I had room for all my toys. I even had room for some of the Doc Savage books, I had stolen from John. Dad grabbed one of the old radios from the attic so I could have something to listen to at night.
For me life was sweet.
During that first weekend in our new home, Rose took every chance she had to rub it in to Geno and John that she had a record player and they didn't. Geno would retort that they had a color TV and that they didn't want her stupid old record player anyway. The Rose would go into her room and slam the door shut. Within seconds her record player would be blaring at full volume. Geno would bang on the door and tell her to turn it down. Then he would go into his room and turn the TV up full blast. They would do this until Mom or Dad would scream at them to turn it all down.
Dad would yell," Stop crying about Rose's record player you Goddamn Idiots!" Moments after he would storm away both the record player and television sets were turned to full blast again.
Looking back at it, I'm fairly sure the only reason they wanted that record player anymore was that Rose had it.
Within just 3 days of moving in to our new home resentment had built to a fever pitch over the record player. Evertime John or Geno would bring it up Dad just told them ,"You're idiots."
I didn't care. I was laying on my bed , in my own room reading my stolen Doc Savage book . Occasionally I would sneak out and steal one of the Creepy or Eerie books that my brothers had brought down from the attic. Duke unsure of his new surroundings followed me wherever I went.
We had moved in on a Thursday. That Sunday Dad took Mom and Rose into Kewanee ( the nearest "big" town) to get some groceries . Dad left Geno , John and myself at home. He figured that they would only be gone for a couple of hours . He didn't think that we could get into any trouble in that short of time span.
He was wrong.
Almost as soon as they left, Geno began to talk about how he didn't care about that dumb record player. A little later we all went outside and Geno and John were shooting old pop bottles with their sling shots , while I watched.
"Daddy's little girl always getting what she wants" ,Geno kept saying. John would just nod and say ,"Yeah she gets anything she wants."
Geno began to speak in a mimic of a girls voice,"Oh Daddy I want to listen to my records."
"She's got dumb records. All girl crap", John muttered." They should all be broken."
Geno and John both lowered their sling shots and looked at each other. A wicked smile spread over Geno's face. He looked at me and said,"Go in the house and grab all her records. Hurry!"
I ran into the house and up to Rose's room. On her dresser was a stack of records. There was a smaller stack of records on the nightstand next to her portable player. I looked at those and smiled. I scooped them all up and brought them outside. Geno had found some rope or string and tied one end to a tree branch.
"Ok you tie a record to the other end of the rope. Once we break it you tie another one. John and I will see who can break the most."
All their practice of shooting at me had paid off it seemed. Rose's records would only last 2 or 3 shots before it shattered. Geno was laughing hysterically ( he was ahead) and John just had a smile. After they had broke the first ten or so records that I had put up ,I told them I was tired of stringing them up and that could do it themselves. Geno and John then took turns stringing up Rose's records. While one would tie up a record the other would "accidentally" shoot the other with the sling shot. I eventually went in and watched TV. (I knew I was going to need an alibi) Soon they had broken all of the records. The last few they played Frisbee with.
I heard Dad's car pull into the driveway. I was still sitting in the living room when Rose came in and went up to her room. She was only there for a few moments when she came back down screaming ,"Where are my records!"
"I don't know. I think maybe Geno borrowed them."
Rose tore out the backdoor and confronted my older brothers. It didn't take long for Geno to gleefully point out the pile of shattered records under one of the trees. Looking out the back window in Dad's den I thought Rose was going to attack him. Her screaming intensified until Mom and Dad came out to see what was wrong.
"What the hell is going on!" My Dad seemed to scream that whenever he was around his kids.
"They destroyed all my records" , Rose sobbed kneeling over the pile of broken vinyl disks.
" Damnit ! Can't I leave you people alone for 2 minutes with out you trying to kill each other. I don't want to hear anything from any of you!' Dad started to walk back to the house.
"But my records?!" Rose was as furious as I'd ever saw her. Dad ignored her and kept walking to the house. Rose was going to say something else until she noticed one of the broken records.
Rose screamed out,"They broke one of your Hank Williams records!"
Dad stopped in his tracks.
Rose was digging though the rubble. "Here's a Jimmy Rodgers! And Here's a Johnny Cash! They broke all the ones I borrowed from you!"
Now how did those get there, I thought smiling to myself.
The only ones more shocked by this then Dad were Geno and John. They both had that deer in the headlights look. Geno appeared as if he might bolt any second. They started to try and blame the other for what happened. In all the confusion my name was never brought up. In fact I don't think they ever understood what had happened.
Dad came in dragging my brothers up the steps to their room. He was screaming so loudly the only thing I could understand was "Goddamn waste of air!"
Geno was 15. John was 14. They both learned that they weren't too old to spanked by their father that night.
I never did see those sling shots again.
And Dad was right. He could whip us and no one would hear.


Oh I forgot to add. The big console television in my brothers room? If those two Einstein's had bothered to lift the top they would have noticed it was one that came with a built in record player.

.

Kathy



When my brother Steve was 14 he met Kathy in a class they had together as freshmen in high school. From the moment he saw her he was head over heels in love with her. Steve would do anything to be with her. If that meant sneaking out at night to see her, and risking Dad's wrath later , it was a fair price as far as Steve was concerned. Steve lost all semblance of rationality when it came to Kathy. ( And let's be honest. Rationality was not Steve's strong point. He was the type of guy who went on gut instincts and feeling his whole life.)
When men in my family fall in love , they fall in love. Grandpa Leo was in a traveling circus when he met my Grandma.( He was a wrestler and roustabout) When the circus left, Grandpa stayed behind to marry her. My Dad fell in love with my Mom very quickly. She dumped him before he went into the Marines. Even when he came back years later engaged to another woman, he still looked my Mom up.( Thank God for that.) When he found out she had his child he broke up with that woman ( I call her Almost Mom) and married Mom. Nothing would have stopped him. In 1992 Steve's 17 year old son Kris introduced me to his new girlfriend Heidi. One look at Kris is all it took me to know they would be together for a very long time.
Steve was no different. In fact he was so in love with Kathy , that Mom and Dad thought it wasn't healthy. They believed that Steve was too young to have that steady of a girlfriend. So Dad tried to get Steve to stop seeing her. If there was one thing guaranteed to push Steve closer to Kathy it was Dad trying to pull them apart.
There is a family legend about when Steve first brought Kathy over to meet Dad. Dad stood there glaring at Kathy. Finally he looked at Steve and remarked, " So this is what you've been smelling around?" Kathy left in tears.
I've said Dad was a mean drunk before, but perhaps I should have mentioned he was a pretty mean sober as well.
All this did was reinforce in Steve's mind the depth of the love he felt for Kathy.
How did I feel about all this? I thought it would be best for all concerned if Kathy would break up with Steve.
Not because I didn't like her, but because I wanted to marry her. I pointed out to her every chance I would get that in just 10 short years I would be Steve's age. So if she would be kind enough to just stop aging for he next decade everything would work out. Kathy would smile and laugh , and I would grow very angry at my oldest brother. First he shoots me in the back , and now he was making time with the woman I was planning to marry in 15 short years. I did everything I could to make Kathy see the error of her ways. She could find a man (or boy) with the charm and class she deserved. To show her what a classy guy I was, I would run upstairs and put my clip on tie and dress jacket on whenever she came over.
( Little piece of trivia here, I am the only man who ever openly hit on Kathy in front of Steve and walked away in one piece. Being Steve's brother helped I'm sure. Plus the fact I was 10 years younger then him probably saved me as well.)
But no matter how well dressed I was Kathy only had eyes for Steve. Eventually Mom and Dad realized that their every effort to break Steve and Kathy apart was simply driving them closer. It took me awhile longer to come around. Finally it hit me that if I did succeed in breaking them up , Kathy would have no reason to come around anymore. So I came to the conclusion that having Kathy with Steve was better then having No Kathy ( And a very disgruntled Steve). Besides I thought that during the next 10 years Steve would screw up some how , and I could move in.
That's what made me different then my family. I planned in the long term. ( It never got me anywhere , but at least I had long term plans for going no where.)
Years passed. Soon Kathy was as much a part of the family as if she'd always been.
After New Years 1973 ,just after Steve turned 18, Dad told us we were going to move. Dad's drinking had gotten him in trouble at work. So instead of waiting to get fired he took a transfer. At the time we lived in Davenport ,Iowa. Dad's transfer was taking him to Illinois. After a few weeks of talking , and driving with Mom to look for houses they settled on a farm house outside a small town called Cambridge. Our parents took us to drive by the house. The house was at least twice as big as the place we were living in. There was a big barn and a small shed and plenty of yard for my dog Duke to run and play in. Just down the road from us was a big barn with "Green Acres", in huge white letters painted on the roof.
This proposed a huge problem for Steve. He could move with the rest of the family to our new home. Or he could stay behind, find a place to live on his own, and be with Kathy.
Anyone who knew Steve , would know that for Steve this wasn't a choice at all.
In March 1973 when my family left Davenport for our new home , Steve did not come along. Steve had many faults in his life. But his strong point was a fierce loyalty to family.
And before the year was out Steve would marry Kathy and make her his family.
First he shoots me.
Then he married Kathy.
I'm not sure what bothered me more.