Monday, April 25, 2011
The story is that Dad and Mom were swimming in the back yard and Dad wanted to skinny dip, but Mom was too bashful with the street light bright over head. With the light on, everyone on the highway (the Kennedy Expressway) could see them.
Dad went to the deck, took his service revolver and shot the streetlight. By the time he had put the pistol back and turned back to Mom, she had run back into the house.
That light was out for what I remember to be several years in my dim, early youth. I vaguely remember that after I heard that story I told people that I had always wondered why that light never worked.
Sunday, April 17, 2011
Monday, April 11, 2011
When Dad was about 12 some of his friends like to hop the freight train, hobo-style, and ride it to Gateway theater. The theater was at Jefferson Park, off Milwaukee Avenue, about two miles away from the house on Kostner.
The boys goaded Dad until he came with them one day. They jumped in an open box car, but by the time it got up to the theater it was going about 60mph. It wasn't a local like they were used to, but an express going to Milwaukee, Wisconsin.
The train didn't slow down the whole time and by the time the boys could jump off they were out of the state and good and scared. Dad was the only one brave enough to call his parents. In about an hour and a half they were picked up by his dad.
They all piled in the car and one by one my Papa dropped the boys off. He didn' say a word to my Dad the whole way. The fear built up in Dad until he could barely stand the wait for his punishment which was sure to come.
Finally they pulled up in front of the house and my grandfather said, "That was a damn stupid thing to do."
So fear was his punishment, and he got home safe and sound. I too have just gotten home so here ends the story.