Fire In The Closet - Life in a small Kansas town 1938 - 1956

(The Family:  Ralph and Vaunita, my mon and dad.  V Kay, my oldest sister, Billy, my oldest brother.  Mary Ann, another sister a year younger than Billy and some ten years older than me.  Me, I'm Jimmy, and my younger brother, Johnnie.  Plus a lot of folks we knew both friends and family.)



Pittsburg, Kansas 1938

When I was a toddler we lived in a small house at ll06 South Elm. Two bedrooms, a living room, dinning area and kitchen. I know for sure because I went back a few years ago. It was, is ... a nifty little place.

Another family living there now, just like time stood still. White, needed a little paint, but cozy. The driveway now has grass growing between the cement tire lanes. I had forgotten, but the railroad tracks ran behind the place. It was amazing to see how my memory had stored it away for all those years. For an instant it was in the late 1930's again.

Up the street, on the corner of East Quincy and South Elm, lived Ma Kit, dad’s mother and my grandfather. Next door to dad's folks, Aunt Olive, Uncle Joe and their first child, Johnny. We had a lot of John's in the family. No pun intended. All of them named after my dad's brother John. A little more about that later.

Joe and Olive, by the way Olive was dad's sister, would bring my cousin Johnnie, to our house so we could hang out. We were about the same age but he was lots bigger ... lots! It was an uneasy relationship out of the gate. Johnnie was a biter. I'm not talking about a nipper; I'm talking about a biter. He would take a bite of me, wherever he happened to think I'd taste best, and I'd cry. He was really into it... mom was always saying "Ralph, that kid bites anybody smaller that him". She was right.

As I'd scream and start to cry, Aunt Olive would finally grab him by the shoulder and pull him away. Sometimes, with his little teeth still attached, and I would be pulled toward her general direction too. It really bothers me why Olive, didn't keep a closer eye on that kid. You know, maybe put him in a mask like the guy in the movie. What the heck was the name of that movie? Man it was scary.

One For The Road

I was five when we moved into a little larger three bedroom house. It was on East Quincy, down a couple houses from Ma Kit. Olive, Joe and the little cannibal.  If you walked one direction from where we lived you would come to South Broadway, the town’s main street, about three blocks up. If you walked the other direction you would pass Joplin street, and if you keep on walking a few more blocks you get to Mt Olive, cemetery.

That house is gone now. The space in between were small houses, on small lots going toward the grave yard. In the other direction open space and the railroad crossing. Taking you to the main drag, South Broadway. Dad had started a small construction business, building roads and such, with another fellow that mom said "Had a little money".

I never knew dad to drink much, except for one time. I must have been going on six, Johnnie my younger brother was a baby and we were settled into the new place. There was a highway letting, I think in Parsons, Kansas. Dad was bidding on some road work. We always knew he was going someplace important if he got dressed up. He was a dapper dude. Dark pin stripe Hickey Freeman suit, starched white shirt, nice tie and "spit shined" great looking shoes. He had long black hair he combed slick and straight back ... topped off by a nifty tan from working outside in the summer. I liked his style. (Smile)

He was late getting home that night. Mom was uneasy, and V Kay, was trying to tell her all was well. "Mom, daddy must have got some work and was talking it over with his partner." In the summer time it stays light a long time in Pittsburg, but it had started turning dark. I think mom expected him around six and it was past eight thirty.

Do you ever get a feeling something exciting is about to happen and it does? As the clock in the kitchen crept toward 10 o'clock, mom was beside herself. Then it happened! We heard a commotion outside. We glanced out the screen door and saw dad was being "carried" up to the front porch. One guy on each side of him. It looked like it was no easy task. Daddy was sort of "passed out" but every once in a while would say something like, "And then I told them" or "Do you remember hunting last winter". Not much of it made any sense. I remember, as clearly as it was yesterday, when it was put in perspective. V Kay gasped and whispered...

"Oh my God, momma, daddy's as drunk as a skunk". And he was!

Now mom was one to say right off what was on her mind. She quickly realized V Kay had the situation nailed. In no uncertain terms she told the poor guys helping daddy ...

"You men take him down to the basement and put him down on that old couch."

It was a sump hole basement, with a coal furnace, a coal bin, and a shower stall. The scene was set. A nifty looking guy, lying on that dusty, torn sofa, passed out with his tie still looking tidy. I got to say it was almost too much.

As she walked down stairs you could hear her giving daddy a "hell fire and brimstone" bashing and lashing of Biblical portions.

"Ralph, I can't believe you would come home drunk" she hollered.

The guys dumped dad quickly in the basement and passed mom going up the stairs trying to beat it out of there. They were gone in a flash.

Then mom said, "I'm going to let all of these kids see just what you've done. Your drunk and they are going to see the result of fast living, drinking and the devils work."

I heard her call upstairs... "V Kay, you bring all those kids down her, the baby too, and let them see what your dad has done".  She was so mad I don't think she saw I was already standing there.

Dad didn't have a clue about what was going on, not a clue. He was zonked. There we all were the audience for dad's performance. V Kay, Billy, Mary Ann, me and little Johnnie. It was worth the price of admission. We all looked wide eyed at daddy. He resembled something like a neon sign in a dirty bar window. He sort of flickered, went out, flickered and went out again. He said something, but for the life of us nobody can remember what. as he vainly tried to defend his indefensible position. Mom's parting shot as we climbed back up the stairs sent fear through us all.

"I'm going to call your mother Ralph and have her walk down here and see what you've been up too."

Ma Kit, was not only a Baptist, she was a staunch Southern Baptist. She didn't allow playing cards in her house, dancing was sinful, and don't you dare go to the movies on Sunday. There would have been hell to pay if Ma Kit saw that scene. V Kay jumped right in there.

"Momma, you don't want her down here, she'll call Olive and Joe, and it will be all over town." V Kay said.

I had to hand it to V Kay; she kept Ma Kit out of it.  Finally, we all settled down for the night. Dad passed out in the basement, mom walking around with a cold wash cloth on her brow, V Kay taking care of Johnnie, Billy and Mary Ann reading. And as for me, I was just hanging out. Some days are more fun than others don't you thinks?

Very late that night, or early the next morning, I heard dad stir around, then taking a shower in the basement. After what seemed a while he trudged back upstairs. Mom, half asleep, gave him one more good going over but kept her voice down to make sure we didn't wake up. So much for an eventful night. It passed into the family history book, seldom to be spoken of again.

Tare Up My Contract

This is a side bar; I wasn't around at the time. Mary Ann must have been eight or nine. From the way I got the story there was a fly by night group of swindlers called The Heart Land Goes Hollywood. Mom, dad and my sister were in their line of fire. It was really a big time sting operation.

These con guys would arrive in a small town; take out an ad in the local paper. The ad would say "We are looking for talent and beauty in the heartland. Let this be your child's one chance to cash in on their beauty and talent.

Someone from Pittsburg is going to end up on the Silver Screen. Is it your beautiful child?" Of course, at the same time of the interviews, they would take pictures of the kids and charge big bucks.

One package of photos would cost about a half day’s wages, but that included a "wood like" frame. A full portfolio of proofs and the final prints, about a days wages, and, if by some chance Mary Ann would be picked by the talent agent to go into the Talent of the Heartland book being sent to all the Hollywood and New York movie studios, rumor had it that would cost two days wages.

Mary Ann, God love her, was forever on the bottom of the pecking order. Part of it was the way she was, and part of it was the way mom was. She was the spitting image of daddy. Dark hair, dark skin, deep brown eyes. Depending on how mom and dad were getting along, so went how mom and Mary Ann, were getting along. Mary Ann, would say...

"Mom's crazy you know".

Of course mom would say "Mary Ann's crazy you know" 

Dad would say "Six of one, Jimmy, and half a dozen of another".   When asked.

At any rate, Mary Ann, was sure she would be picked. From the way I get the story, she was convinced this was her ticket to the big time. Everyone knew she could sing a little and you put that talent with her good looks, how in the world could you miss?

Many moms in town were sure their little darling had what it took to hit the big time. In my sister’s case, she was sure but mom wasn't. Another coming issue, dad hadn't really got the news about the money. None the less mom took Mary Ann and they were off to see the talent scout. Mary Ann was spiffed up in her Sunday best. A white lace trimmed dress, black patent leather shoes and check this out ... the little white Bible with gold print on the front ... Ma Kit, gave her. Mary Ann was no dummy. That Bible was going to be held in her little hands when the flash bulbs went off. How in the world could anyone resist her? She was on her way. The big silver screen the next stop.

The next day came and all three of them were off to see the pictures. Their world was about to change. The guy presenting Mary Ann's pictures said

"Mr. and Mrs. Gore, before you look at these pictures of Mary Ann, we just want to say after seeing the proofs we can’t remember any child so photogenic. She is simply a beauty."

Can't you see the three of them? Mon stunned, dad starting to feel the bite of the con, and Mary Ann dancing on the air of fame.

"Just look at her model portfolio" he said, as he placed the various pictures of Annie on the table. Gushing with the excitement of finding a star right there, in Pittsburg, Kansas,

"Can you imagine that? They are just fabulous photo's, Mary Ann, simply fabulous” The man kept saying.

Oh boy, life in the fast lane.The man just assumed dad would pop for the whole deal. First, the great portfolio, next copies all around for family and friends, and, of course, last but not least the prize of all prizes, a listing in the Stars From The Heartland talent book. With three, that's right, three pictures of Mary Ann. Check this out, he asked if they wanted to use her real last name in the talent book or should we think of something a little bit more Hollywood. (Nice touch don't you think?) Oh, no matter, the movie studio will take care of all that.

As Mary Ann, oozed with the excitement of being discovered for the silver screen it was a simple matter of where do I sign?

"Not so fast," said dad. "We have to think this over, Mary Ann"

Reaching in his wallet he put up the money for one portfolio set. They were going to send that to mom's folks in St Louis, and Ma Kit could would just have to settle for one 8 x 10 in a "wood like" frame of course. As for the contract it would have to wait till dad thought it over. The chances of it getting signed by daddy were two. Slim and none.

The guy took the money, told dad the finished photos would be sent along by United States Mail as he handed dad a copy of the contract. The Talent Pictures From The Heartland was going to be printed and mailed to Hollywood, and of course New York, too, in just 8 weeks. "The signed contract must be in our hands in two weeks" were the pitch man's parting words. Dad, clutching the envelope with the copy of the contract, mom still a bit stunned, and Mary Ann, ready for her name in lights headed toward the car.

I was glad, after hearing this story that I didn't have to face those next two weeks with the three of them. It was easy for mom to bail out.

"Mary Ann, your dad doesn't want to spend that kind of money. There is nothing I can do about it."

Dad told her, "Mary Ann that's nothing but a con and we are not spending money on something like that."

The final vote was a resounding two against one. Mary Ann, however, was determined to get the last word. The unsigned contract had been placed in the desk. She had one last fight left in her. Everyone was sitting around after dinner one evening. Mary Ann had been making her pitch for what everyone must have hoped was the last time. Finally, she went over to the desk, ready for the last scene.

"I'll tell you all what", she said. "I'm not going to say anything more about it, other than this. I could have made it big, but now I am going to do what you wanted to do." 

And with that the most famous line of her young life came dancing from her lips.

"Tear up my contract, and ruin my career." 

With that she ripped the contract into pieces and ran outside to sit in the front porch swing, pondering what might have been. From that time anytime she got too high handed someone in the family would always ask her... "Is this a tear up your contract, ruin your career moment Mary Ann?"

What Goes On In This House Stays In This House

I talked earlier about the fact we had a lot of "John's" in the family. I said at that time, there was no pun intended. Uncle John was dad's older brother. The guy as a piece of work. He was, up till then, the only relative I knew that had been "married and divorced. Later I made up for that.

Dad was a soft spoken guy, lots of smarts, thinking up one thing or another, and putting it to work to make a buck or two. On the other hand, Uncle John was more of a rounder in the best sense of the word. He was a salesman for the Chevrolet dealer in town and had been for years. Sometimes he sold cars, other times the pickings were slim. He worked on commission. Everyone liked Uncle John, except for, you guessed it, mom. She wasn't hot on Aunt Neil, his wife, either.

After thinking about why she didn't like him, I guess it was his personality. She thought he was a big blow hard and less than truthful. As for Aunt Neil, she was unfriendly, and downright rude, per mom. Another thing ... Uncle John, didn't manage money very well. He would ask daddy for a "see me through till payday" loan. $10, $20, whatever. When mom found out about it she would raise the roof.

"Sometimes you get that money back, Ralph, and sometimes you don't. We have all these kids, and it's just him and Neil, why should you be his banker?"

A good point don't you think? Daddy never did admit how much he did or didn't loan Uncle John over the years. Knowing Daddy, I would bet he got most of the loans paid back. There was a trust between them. Daddy liked the guy.

"Jimmy, your Uncle John, is the funniest man I know. He makes people feel better just by walking into the room".

I liked Uncle John, he smoked cigars and they smelled good and he was always nice to me unfortunately, if Uncle John, walked into the room with mom there, it was an uneasy setting. Never to be deterred, Uncle John, God bless him, would say

"Vaunita, you still are the best looking woman in Pittsburg." Mom, kind of liked that.

Now I had heard mom say so many things about Uncle John and Aunt Neil, I couldn't remember them all. But one thing that stuck with me was mom calling him a "big blow hard". Aunt Neil, was "unfriendly and that is alright with me", she would say. There was a breakdown in communication between Ma Kit, momma, and the Gore, family anyway.

Mom's folks moved from Girard to St Louis and stood her ground with all the relatives mostly on her own. Mom tended, even back then, to develop headaches that lasted for one, two or three days depending on how mad she was. Daddy just sort of took it in stride but it left a lot of the work of rising up the kids to V Kay. As for my oldest sister, it wasn't going to be long before she found a guy and got hitched. There were boys hanging around her all the time.

Many summer weekend evenings, there was a gathering for conversation on Ma Kit's front porch. It was screened and the evening cooled off nicely. Friends and family gathered. Uncle John, Aunt Neil, Joe, Olive and neighbors from around the block. Mom and dad never attended. I can't remember one time. But me, I was there, playing with my cousins and coming in to split a Pepsi or get a drink of ice water from the big jar in the refrigerator.

We kids caught fire flies in the yard; put them in bottles with air holes punched in on the top, grass in the bottom and played hide and seek. It was always like that in the summer. Not cook outs, just gatherings after supper. This one night, for what ever reason, I was hanging out on the porch, not outside, at Ma Kit's. There was never any kids should be seen not heard rules in our family. I would have been better off that night if we had that rule.

Uncle John was talking about family, and how the "Gore's" all stuck together. As the talk went along Aunt Neil, who really didn't ever say much, and frankly I don't think liked hanging out there anyway spoke up.

"Well, I know that Vaunita, has no use for me and I don't want any truck with her either."

Wow, you could have heard a pin drop. Ma Kit was the first to address the issue. "Now, Neil, I've never heard Vaunita say one bad thing about you."

"Well she has, said Neil.  I've had friends tell me and she doesn't like John, either."

Uncle John, was becoming more uneasy by the moment and Ma Kit, was gamely trying to keep the peace. Grandpa just sat there spitting his tobacco into that tin can.

"Neil, Vaunita, never says anything bad about you, or anybody as far as I know", said one of the neighbors. I think it was Clyde Crumb's wife.

Heaven help me, this was my opening. I said, "Well, I know what mom thinks about everybody here".

There was some uneasy laughter, and instead of just letting it pass, they urged me on. If you get every one's full attention at that age sometimes you dance right into the flow of the thing.

"What do you mean, Jimmy", said Uncle Joe.

"Well I've heard mom and dad talking about Uncle John and Aunt Neil, a lot".

"Really," said Neil.

"Yep, really", I said.

I was about to get myself into such big trouble.

"Well" I said, "You know mom thinks Uncle John is a blow hard"

"Really," Aunt Neil, said.

"Yep," I replied. "And she doesn't like daddy loaning Uncle John money either".

Aunt Neil, looked over at Uncle John, with a really nasty look.

"Are you borrowing money from your brother, John?"

Man the flood gates were open. If I live to be 100, I am never going to ever do anything like that again. They went at it right there and then. You should have been there. The neighbors and other guest split the scene like a covey of quail being spotted by a bird dog. Grandpa said he was tired and Ma Kit, said you know it is getting late. Olive and Joe hung in there just to see if anything else might happen between Neil and Uncle John.

I could hear Aunt Neil, talking kind of loud as they walked to their car. Uncle John, for a change, wasn't saying too much. As for me, Ma Kit sent me home.  By the time the story got back to mom and dad I was toast. I mean toast.

"What goes on in this house, Jimmy, stays in this house. Do you hear me"?   Mom said.

"Yes, mom." I'm sorry".

"Well you should be, Jimmy."

Then she asked daddy, “Ralph, what did John, say about it?" "

"Only that he wished Jimmy, would have kept his mouth shut." Daddy replied.

I remember the only cover I had was to go outside, walk down to my cousins and just hang out. Out of sight, out of mind. You know how that goes.  While Aunt Neil, and mom, were never on the same page anyway and from that time on they never spoke to each other again. Never. One good thing happened, in mom's mind anyway. She said later...

"Well, Ralph, at least he won't ask you for a loan again." I remember they both laughed together for a change.

Deep and Wide - The South Broadway Baptist Experience

When my brother, Johnnie, was 4 and I was nine, we went to church every Sunday morning. Attending the South Broadway Baptist, Sunday school at 9:30, we stayed for church service at eleven. Sunday evening, church again, and, of course, Wednesday night for the prayer meeting. Ma Kit, as an Elder of the church, went all the time, and then some. Grandpa went on Sunday morning, Mom, once in a while. Daddy, never. Mama took us to Sunday school, and brought us home after church. If mama wasn't going, Ma Kit brought us home. We just didn't miss.

Our little brother, Johnnie, was a favorite of the Congregation. They thought he was cute. His dimples, shy smile, slight speech impediment, got the job done. He got lots of attention and ate it up. He and I sang in the kid’s choir. We didn't perform on Sunday morning, mostly on Wednesday nights. There was one song that really got the fans lined up behind Johnnie. It was a song called "There's A River Flowing Deep and Wide".

We would sing the verse, then the chorus, "There's a river flowing deep and wide." When we said the word deep, we put our little arms, one about waist high, and the way up over our head. Deep, right? Then, when the wide word came along in the verse, you would stretch your arms out wide. Johnnie, God bless him, never could get the hand signals right. He was wide when it was deep, and he was deep when it was wide. The faithful went wild. They loved it!

About this time, the church went through three ministers in about four years. One thing was sure, you had better be preaching on the blood and the wages of sin are death. Hell fire and brimstone. No middle ground. Basic, Evangelical, old time religion. A lot of good people set in their beliefs.

In the summer time it got hot in that church on Sunday morning. No air conditioning. It was that still kind of Kansas summer hot. You know, where you sweat just thinking about it. There were two sides of pews with a wide aisle down the center of the rows.

The hymnals were on the back of the pews with envelopes you could put your offering in. Also, stashed there were the hand fans provided by Smith Funeral Home. They were a light brown color, with "Smith Funeral Home ... there in time of need" printed in funny, church like letters. The ladies would flick those fans back and forth like crazy and the men would loosen their ties, trying to catch any breeze. As for Johnnie and me, we were always careful not to get rowdy. We didn't want any trouble with Ma Kit.

One Sunday, things took an interesting turn. It seemed everything was going along OK. We had listened to the minister before, always hoping that he would wind down by noon. You could sort of set your watch by how the service was going. The ushers making sure everyone was settled in, while the organ played softly in the background. The fans would be going and conversations would be muted but still taking place. "Nice to see you all again. Those boys are getting so big" someone would say to mom. Ma Kit, would look over at Grandpa, give him the don't you dare look, because when the sermon started he sometimes fell off to sleep. Everything would get quiet, the choir director would stand up and the first hymn would be sung.

The minister always started with his suit coat and tie on. As the opening song ended he would stand up, move behind the pulpit, getting set to share "the good news" of salvation. I never had any idea this Sunday morning would be one I would never forget. The preacher’s wife, a sort of plump woman, was behind Johnnie, and I, about two rows. Her two kids were not with her that day. They were smaller, and I thought someone may be watching out for them in the basement where Sunday school was held. A couple of the women always were available to baby sit down there.

The preacher cast a look at the flock and opened up a really big Bible that was always on the pulpit. Reading a little from the good book. The message, for the most part, was always related to one of the Ten Commandants. Today, it was around not bearing false witness against your brothers and sisters. Not to spread rumors, gossip, in general keep your own door step cleaned first. After his reading ... off came his coat. When this happened you knew you better hold on to your hat. He had a smaller Bible, under the pulpit. It was worn and earmarked with a slug of book marks; it looked like he slept with it. Maybe he did. Bible in hand, we were off and running.

He started walking back and forth in front of the followers, with the choir behind him. First to one side of the pulpit, then the other. Stopping, from time to time during his rapid delivery of the good word, to ask for an amen.

"You know that's the truth don't you brothers and sisters".

And someone would give a hardy "Amen, pastor." If Grandpa was still awake, he was big on that part. I loved the sound of his Amen. It just had that ring to it.

The preacher was about ten minutes into the sermon. At this point he had undone his tie, rolled up his shirt sleeves, and had this white hankie he always used to wipe the sweat from his face. As he spoke he started talking about the importance of being truthful, of being faithful to those who love you, to never being the one to hurt your loved ones, your wife, and your family. The guy was on a roll. Some of the elders were squirming in their seats a little bit ... if you catch my drift.

About then all hell broke lose. From behind Johnnie and I, two row's back, up jumped the ministers wife, yelling

"You hypocrite, Harry"

As she picked up a song book from the back of the pew seat, hurling it toward the preacher. He quickly ducked and a couple of book marks dropped from that Bible. Man was he taken by surprise. Imagine that!

"Harry, you should be making your confession to all these people rather than going on, being holier than thou" His wife yelled.

As she spoke, she grabbed two or three more hymnals and sent them sailing in Harry's direction. Harry was trying the best he could to figure a way out of this insanity. His and hers. So, he said...

 "Honey, it must be the heat. Yes, I think your having a heat stroke."

To tell you the truth, I don't think one living soul in that church believed that was the problem.  Well he had been talking about the truth, and sure enough, here it came. She clued us all in

"Listen all you good people, my husband, your pastor, has been having an affair with that blond hussy right there in the choir. Yes you, don't look so surprised." Looking at the choir, it was clear there was only one blond. And boy was she a looker. "He's been sleeping with her. She followed us here from Newton."

Without so much as taking a deep breath she went on ..

"They were doing that there and now here. She's not somebody whose husband is off to the war, no sir. She's divorced and she's been hanging around with my husband for three years. I've been afraid to say anything, but I've had enough. I'm done. They should be run out of this church on a rail"  The preachers wife was on a roll.

About that time a couple of ladies were on either side of her trying to calm her down. As for Harry, it was all but over. He tried to compose himself, as the women were leading his wife outside. The blond had disappeared from the choir. I never did see her go. That was the last time I ever saw her in church. I would have remembered.

Harry said something about life has its issues. Then he went on...

"We are all not perfect. We try, and God knows I'm trying. I only have one thing to ask of you good Christians. That is your forgiveness for any of my transgressions. I would ask you all to sing with me closing final hymn, and try and put this all behind us".

Check this out. As we were about to sing, Ma Kit, stood up and said

"Pardon me but before we close would the ushers please pass the basket".

That woman had it all together.

I Didn't Do It (this time anyway)

On our side of town was Horace Mann Elementary and College High School. It was a short walk from the house on Quincy, to both. In the grade school there were practice teachers who assisted the regular teachers. The complex of the schools and the college was nifty, the big college buildings, highlighted by Russ Hall. Including a really neat Gothic looking college library. Inside the campus area was a large walking space called the Oval. With classroom buildings all around it. A really cool location to just hang out in the summer. The College Book Store was there on the side of the street next to the elementary school.

As I walked to and from school, on one side of the street were a lot of homes, again with sort of small lots, and the other side had homes and Mrs. Fennel's Homemade Bakery. That little older woman made the best baked bread and cinnamon buns you could ever want. Lot's of times, on the way home from school if I had a nickel, I would get one. I can still smell and taste them. She would hand them to you on this sort of waxed paper. You would eat your cinnamon buns, and then lick the frosting off the waxed paper and your fingers. Pure heaven.

There are so many elementary school stories; it’s hard to pick out the best ones. At least from my point of view. When I started school, there was a big time push for everyone to bring scrap metal to the school to be collected for the war effort. As I walked by that pile of scrap there was always something that caught my attention. This one day I really made a find. Someone had tossed in this bunch of really neat keys, a whole slug of them all on this big steel ring. Skeleton keys, padlock keys, door keys, a lot of nifty stuff.

I put them in my pocket, and walked on to school. Now, at six, with a pocket full of keys, maybe 15 on a big steel ring, your pocket looks kind of funny. As I walked in, sat down in my chair, our first grade teacher, called the roll.

“Betsy Ross"

Yes we had a Betsy Ross, in fact her mom and mine gave birth to us at about same time in Mt. Carmel Hospital.

"Donnie Elliott, Larry Hines, Sharon Hagman, Dick Webb, Gaylord Swanson, Gail Poor, Jane Pittman, and Jimmy Gore"

I was trying to shift the keys in my pocket so nobody would see them and missed my name in the roll call. "Jimmy Gore, are you here Jimmy, or are you just my imagination?" she said. The room must have laughed, it got my attention, and I said here.

She walked back to where I was sitting, right behind Anthony Agers, and said...

"Jimmy, what in the world do you have in your pocket?"

Now what would you say when you have been caught putting a dent in the war effort? That day I must have been under Divine protection... I simply said...

"Oh, these are keys I found in the basement, mom said we don't use them anymore, I just forgot to put on the scrap pile this morning." (Not bad for six don't you think?)

She took them from me, said she would take care of it at recess, and the morning went on without me being arrested for treason and put away for the rest of my natural life.

Speaking of Anthony Agers, not everyday at Horace Mann went so well. At recess we would all head out of the playground. The playground bumped up to the College Book Store. There was a big iron gate going toward the back door. We all knew darn well that to open that gate.  Going in there that was off limits. Serious trouble would follow but that day those guys did it anyway. As a result the book store manager reported it to Dr. Carroll, the school principal.

The only kid the guy recognized was Anthony. The manager said there was a bunch with Anthony, and they had thrown stones into the pond and knocked some of the bird baths over. One was broken beyond repair. Oh we got trouble, trouble in River City. In this case, trouble in the first grade of Horace Mann.

Well the injustice that was about to happen to me wasn't in the epic proportions of To Kill A Mockingbird, but it wasn't a walk in the park either. Doctor Carroll called all the boys in the first grade, to come into the punishment room. No kidding, that was what it was called. If you went in there with Dr. Carroll, the chances were you would get put over her lap, and spanked with a book. In we went, single file, and were stood up in the front of the room like a police line up. Standing right beside Dr. Carroll, was, you guessed it, Anthony Agers.

"Boy's, the manager of The College Book Store, has reported a number of you went inside the back gate of the store and destroyed some property". She said.

I felt I was home free. I didn't go; I wasn't there, no problem. Then she went on ...

"Anthony, look at everyone one in this room. It's up to you to tell me who was with you. I want you to tell me everyone."

I still didn't figure there was any problem. I wondered who he would single out. I didn't have to wait very long. I don't think that kid ever did like me. She pushed for him to ID someone, and guess who? Not one other kid in that room other than me. Very quietly, he said ...

”Jimmy Gore was with me but I don't remember who else".

Can you believe that? Well I couldn't.  So there it was, right out in the open, fingered by Anthony. Dr. Carroll said you all go back to your classroom.

"Jimmy Gore, after school you report to my office. Do you understand"?   She said.

I wasn't about to do that without a fight.

"Dr. Carroll, I was never there. I know better than to do that. It's not fair. He's lying."

She looked at me sort of like I wasn't even there and said... "Jimmy, you report to my office right after school."

On the way back to the classroom, I decided to get into Anthony's face.

"Why did you tell her it was me? I wasn't even there."

That kid just kept on walking, never looking back. I reached out to grab his arm but he ran on ahead and into the classroom. Finally the bell rang. Time can go so slowly by sometimes, and other times it's just a flash. I put my stuff in my desk and started the long walk from the class room to the office.

I really can't remember what time class was over, but I think it was around three. Dr. Carroll had decided I would just sit, on that darn chair in the office, till she finished some paperwork. Then she would drive me home and talk to my mother. I find it difficult to believe, in this day and age, any teacher, let alone a school principle, would keep a six year old kid after school without telling his parents.

As the clock slowly ticked by it was 3:15, then 3:35 and I didn't think I could stand it any longer. At 3:57, I got up, ran out of the office door, and run home. As soon as I got there, I told mom what had happened. That Anthony had lied, and Dr. Carroll, didn't believe me.

About that time Dr. Carroll, pulled up and parked in front of the house. Now, back then, having the principal come to your house was big time. I suspect today it would never happen, but it happened at our place. I was about to be vindicated. At least as far as I was concerned.

Dr. Carroll gave mom the run down on the issue at the book store.

"A bunch of boys, including Jimmy, went in there and destroyed property. After finding out from the manager, one of the boy's names, I got the boy to admit he was there, and Jimmy, was there too".

"How many kids were involved?" Asked, mom.

"I'm not really sure, but this one boy, identified by the manager, said Jimmy, was with him".

That hit mom's defend Jimmy, button.

"Let me get this really clear, Dr. Carroll," mom said. "You’re telling me a bunch of boys did this, and the only other kid that was picked out, was Jimmy? You’re taking his word, against Jimmy's?"

"Well, yes" said Dr. Carroll.

Mom was ready to do battle for me right then and there... Dr. Carroll was a very strong willed woman, but I really think she was outmatched. Mom, put an end to it.

"Dr. Carroll, I don't think that any of this is fair to Jimmy, he is not a fibber. (Well not often anyway) I'll talk it over with his dad, but I think that keeping him after school, having him worry about not being home, and having someone think that he isn't truthful, is enough punishment and frankly I don't think it was deserved."

Then mom said,” Jimmy, you go in the house." And I did.

I have no idea what was said after that. Mom stood by Dr. Carroll's car for about five minutes or so. Finally, she drove away. Nothing more was said till dad got home. Then mom told dad, "Jimmy had some trouble at school today, but it wasn't his fault." She went through the story, Johnnie was crawling around on the floor, the other kids got home, and we had supper. That, my friends, was that.

Throw The Ball To Billy

V Kay was now married to Harold. He was a nice guy and a very good friend of mine in later life. We’ll touch base with V Kay and Harold a bit later. Mary Ann was in high school, Billy, too. They attended College High. College High, was a lot smaller school, believe it or not, that Saint Mary’s High and of course Pittsburg High School. Billy is a tall, slim guy. One of the things he did was play basketball. He was on the College High Varsity Basketball Team. I’m not sure what position he played. We only say him in action once. There is a reason for that.

I can’t remember my mom going to any sporting event, anytime that I was home, except for this one time. Dad decided they had to see Billy, play ball. So, they packed up Johnnie and me, leaving Mary Ann to fend for herself and we were off to the College High arena. I’ll try to describe the place so you can get a better feel for what’s about to happen. Just picture a basketball court, with about 20 row’s of seats on either side of the court, the full length of the court. Then, about 10 feet behind each basket solid brick walls.

College High, played the smaller schools around the area. They had very little success. Very little. Frankly, if you were at College High, and could shoot the basket ball, you were on the team. I think there were like 25 or 30 people in Billy’s senior class. Not that Billy wasn’t a good player. He was. He could shoot, jump and defend. At least as far as I could see the one night I got the chance.

I think the night we attended they were playing Weir. That’s Weir, Kansas. Weir’s senior class was about the size of Billy’s. I’m not sure if mom even knew what basketball was. I know for a fact she had never been to a game before. Daddy, bless him, was mostly all about work. They seldom got out. As they got a little older, and so did us kids, they did go out to supper a lot. But at this point, getting out of the house was a very sometime thing.

When we got there I was surprised at how empty the place was. There must have been maybe 20 or so people from Weir, plus the ball team. I suspect there were very few more from Pittsburg. Tops, 30 or so. Here we are, in the really big gym, with ten guys on each team warming and 4 or 5 cheerleaders from each team, both across from each other. It was hard to hear what they were cheering on the other side. You could hear the yells, but barely. There was a nice echo I seem to remember.

Now most folks know when a basketball team takes to the court to get ready, and when they are playing, they simply don’t carry on a conversation with the people in the stands. So, out comes College High, Weir is ready, they toss up the ball and the game is started. Mom, sort of got adjusted to what was going on. One team had the ball, the other team tried to get it. The team with the ball wanted to put it in the basket, the team without the ball, to block shots. She just watched for about three or four minutes.

Then, it started. “You’re doing good Billy”.  Mom would yell.

Not once, but perhaps four or five times when he was down at our end of the court. He never looked up he just played ball. Then, about midway through the first half Billy, came down the court after he had stolen the ball, and as he went up for the lay up, a guy from Weir, came from behind a cleanly blocked the shot. Cleanly, mind you. Mom was really hot.

“Listen here, you’re not supposed to beat down like that on somebody” she said.

Everyone could hear her, believe me. Then she turned to daddy..

“Ralph, you better go down there and tell Billy’s coach to stand up for him.”

I swear the only thing I could hear in that entire place was mom. Then it started. Billy came down court and set up on the far right. They passed the ball around, didn’t toss it to Billy, took a shot and missed. Weir grabbed the rebound and went back up the court. Over the next few plays, Billy, seldom got the ball. Then it started big time. Momma, started yelling.
“Throw the ball to Billy, throw the ball to Billy”.

She kept at it till the half time intermission started and she headed for the rest room.  I got a coke and a hot dog. One of the guys that took care of the uniforms and equipment was a good friend of Billy’s and we had him over to our house once in a while for supper. I saw him talking to dad, just as mom was coming out of the bathroom. It seems like Billy, sent him out there to talk to dad, and see if he would take mom home. I don’t know what I was expecting, but dad said...

“You know Vaunita, I’m a little tired. Let’s go on home.

Mom, came right back with her reply. “OK," she said. "Their not throwing the ball to Billy anyway.”

1805 South Broadway

I must have been ten or so when things started picking up for dad's business. There was talk of finding a much larger house and the two of them, mom and dad, had been looking.

The main street in Pittsburg, as we have noticed before during the stories, is Broadway. There is South Broadway, anything South of First Street, which is the start of the downtown area and North Broadway, anything north.

The main intersection was 4th and Broadway. Crowell’s Rx Drug Store was on one corner, and a couple of banks on the other two corners. Down the block, heading east on 4th Street was the Besse Hotel. The building still stands but it's something else today. There were a lot of stores on the main drag, including a local family Shoe Store, Jones Department Store, JC Penny, The Five and Dime, Woolworth, The Stillwell Hotel, you get the picture. Also the pool hall was on Broadway. We will drop in there later.

Mom and dad must have looked a lot of places for a new home, but for the life of me I can’t ever remember them going out and doing that. We were living on Quincy, the next thing I remember, we were moving. Things on the financial front were getting better for daddy. The company he was with, Freeto Construction was growing by leaps and bounds. He and Frank Freeto, were getting ready to move from their downtown offices, over the bank at Fourth and Broadway, to a new building they were going to put up, way out on 20th Street As for the house at 1805 South Broadway, that would be where dad and mom would spend the rest of their life adventure.

It was a huge place compared to where we were living. Downstairs was a big living room, dinning room, sun room and kitchen and a full bath. Upstairs, four bedrooms, a large sun porch sleeping area and another full bath. I think I was turning ten when we moved there.

On one side of us was the Mallory family. Karen, their daughter was my age and we went to school together. We must have been in the 4th or 5th grade. Still at Horace Mann Elementary. By the way, Dr. Carroll was still there too. On the other side of us was a couple who rented out rooms to college kids. Their name was Owens, I think. She was Rose and he was Charles. They were a pair to draw too. Some Saturday nights they would get really snookered and the fun would start.

They didn’t hit each other but for some reason, they would turn off the lights in the place, after they had been drinking for a while, and sort of play hide and seek. It would start off with them laughing a lot, the guys upstairs seemed to always take off when it started, the renters that is, and then it got a bit out of hand.

In the pitch dark, save for a candle or two in the dinning room, and the glow from their cigarettes, they would start crawling around on their hands and knees throwing stuff at each other.. Plates, glasses, ashtrays, whatever. It would go on a while, mom would be afraid one of them would get hurt, and we would call the cops.

It must have happened every three or four months or so. The cops would come; take him away on a 24 hour hold, and she would go to bed... The next morning, Rose would be very repentant and guess what? Ma Kit would come by and pick her up for church. Charles would be back at the house later than Sunday and they would get along just ducky till the next time. Fun neighbors.

Wide Open Spaces

We had settled into the new place, V Kay was married and dad’s work was going along at a big time pace. FDR has passed, Harry Truman, was the new president. As for their ability to get along with each other, that was another matter all together. Dad bid on some road construction on Highway 96, around Moline and Howard, Kansas. Dad decided, even though we had just moved, to be at the job site for the summer.

We packed up the car and headed west. Howard is a very small town, around 800 people in Elk County. In all the time we had spent in Pittsburg, there were never any horses to ride, any cattle to round up, and very little farming done by my family. Things were going to be different in Howard.

We rented a three bedroom house, right across the street from a church, and the minister had this really nifty looking daughter about a year older than me. Her name was Romaine Mitchell. A red head, a good rider, and she helped me to learn to ride. We did a lot of stuff. Explored a lot of places. Covered a lot of ground. She on her horse, me on a painted pony one of the neighbors let me use all the time we were there.  I’m not sure what everybody else did. I went western. The summer was like nothing I had experienced before. I got tan as a berry; mom seemed to enjoy the neighbors. Mary Ann, and Billy, liked it too.

During the time I was in grade school we spent three summers out of Pittsburg. Wichita, Arkansas City and Howard. Wichita was alright, I was really too young to remember much of Arkansas City, but Howard takes my vote. Even though I had a great time, there were some issues too.

For one thing, when I was ridding the pony over an open field one day, there was a small ditch with a little water in it. On the far side it slopped up a bit. As the pony galloped up to the ditch, she came up a bit short to getting set to jump it. As she did, I started to noise dive over the saddle horn. I was not at all settled and was just about ready to take a fall, when she hit the other side.

She lost her footing and fell sideways and down. I was half on and half off, mostly half off. As she hit she almost at once tried to get back up on her feet. My left arm hit the ground hard and broke at my wrist. As she got up, I got my chin caught under the saddle horn. As she stood, I bit a hole in my tongue. Clean through.

The pony was up and was about 15 feet away from me. My arm hurt like heck. I had never experienced bleeding as bad as my tongue did that day. I was dazed. Not sure exactly where I was. It must have been a while because my shirt was covered in blood. Then out of the blue I heard

“You’re going to need a little help, young fellow” this guy said.

I didn’t even look up. He handed me this T shirt and said put this between your fingers, reach in you mouth, and cover up that hole. Then push on the shirt to get some pressure started.  For some reason I knew just what he was talking about.

Everything seemed so dream like, other than the pain which I was really feeling.

"Can you stand up boy?” I heard him say that but I couldn’t reply.

He reached down to pick me up. As he did my arm moved and I yelled out. It really hurt to move that arm. He looked at me, told me to put that T Shirt back where it was, I had taken it out of my mouth, and said it looks like your arm is broken.

My heart was racing, and I’m sure that wasn’t helping my bleeding. My arm hurt to move it, but if I kept it still, it was OK. Very carefully, he picked me up again and started carrying me to his pick up. I don’t know to this day how that truck got in the field, but there it was and soon I was in the front seat.

“Your going to be OK, son”, he said. We are headed for Doctor DePugh’s place. He’ll get you fixed up."

By then I was so scared it would be hard to explain how scared I was. He reached over and put his hand gently on my shoulder and he said...

“I’ve taken a spill or two off those ponies and they always patched me up alright. You’re going to be better in no time”.

We made it to town and he pulled up to Dr. DePugh’s place. The doctor was just leaving. It was about 11:00 on Saturday, and he was through, so he thought, for the day. I heard the doctor ask,

“What’s the problem, Clyde? “  As the guy took me out of the truck, and put me down on my own two feet.

“He took a spill on a horse, looks like he bit his tongue real good, and his left arm may be broken” Clyde said.

“I know him, that’s one of the kids that guy doing the roads moved here with. Do you live over by the Mitchell’s, in that white house?” The doctor asked me.

All I could do was shake my head yes. The next thing I knew, I was in the doctor’s office. He was saying to me he wanted get my tongue fixed up to stop all that bleeding.

“Two or three stitches will do the trick”, he said.

I really panicked, stitches on top of everything else, holy cow and I started to cry, and He said,

“Young fellow, here is the way it is. I know you’re scared but if we don’t stop that bleeding you might just bleed to death”.

With that kind of bed side manner, he and I got on the same page and he stitched the hole up. Three on top, three on the bottom.

About that time mom and daddy came into the office. Someone in town had given them the news.

“Oh my God Ralph,” mom said.

“Now Vaunita, just take it easy”, dad said.

“Well he’s taken a spill, on a pony I guess, and we had to stitch up a hole in his tongue. I’m just about to take an x ray of his left arm. I looks like it’s broken, but it’s not a compound fracture which is a good thing”. Reported the good doctor.

Man if you have ever had a broken bone you know it isn’t fun. But at least, for now, I wasn’t bleeding anymore. He took me into this little side room; put my arm on this plate thing, and said ...

“Don’t move.” I didn’t have to be told to not move. Every time I did my arm went nuts.  The x ray was completed, and Dr. DePugh, said

"There is a slight fracture, here, see.  I think it’s in a good position.”
As he said that he moved my arm a bit.  Lord did that hurt. The next thing I know he is mixing up this paste like stuff, putting a cast on the arm. It still hurt like crazy, but he said it would get better and I needed to take it easy for a while.

Dad said, “Jimmy, how did you get here?”

The doctor said, "Clyde Dawson found him in one of his fields and brought him in."

I later got to know Clyde. He lived with his mother and dad, older folks, and everyone said Clyde was a little off the beam. A real loaner most folks said.   In the next few weeks I spent a lot of time with Clyde, working on his place. He taught me a lot about cattle, horses, and other stuff. The first thing he did was go get this horse he had was put me on a horse again. 

He said, "Boy, let's get you back up here".

Up I went bareback and he told me to just walk her around the yard which I did.

"You always need to get right back on after a fall he said. That's enough for today but we will keep at it".  He said as he helped me down to the ground. 

His parents lived on the place; his dad had a lot of memory issues and mostly just sat inside or on the porch. His mom would get on Clyde’s case from time to time. They would bicker back and forth most of the time. Nothing heavy, just sort of the way it was. Clyde, didn’t say much, but what he said made sense to me. Man that guy was strong; I don’t think he was afraid of anything. He a few head of cattle, some hogs, and a bunch of dogs and cats, it was hard to tell how many. He would be just fine sometimes when I would visit, other times he was downright unfriendly. But every time he was unfriendly, He would say

“You better high tail it for a while, Jimmy; I feel a spell coming on”.

I’d come back in a day or two, and we would hang out and work the farm. I never felt uneasy, never. All around his place there were no trespassing signs, keep out signs, I’ve got guns signs and most folks just kept their distance. He told me the world would end next summer, the government had this plan to condemn and take his place. And that the school was teaching the kids there wasn’t any God and Jesus was so mad he wasn't coming back. It didn't matter to me. I could have bled to death in that field without him. Angels are Angels.

Boy's Find Body

Summer is hot in Pittsburg. Donnie Elliott, Larry Heinz and I would start out in the morning and go full tilt until it got so dark when we had to come in. We explored all kinds of places just outside the city limits. Between my house on South Broadway, and Donnie’s place, it was about two blocks to the railroad tracks. We would take our BB guns and work that area over big time. Walking along the tracks till we left the city limits toward the waste disposable plant outside of town. Here in an area that was really wild country was a dirt road leading to the plant and a path to a swinging bridge over cow creek.

There was a lot to explore. One of the most dangerous was a railroad trestle over the creek. Many times we played right on top of the bridge. Sometimes I worried about getting my feet stuck between the track supports with a train coming towards me. It never stopped me from walking cross that thing but the idea didn't sit well on my mind either.

This summer morning we had set up some bottles and were having a shooting contest with the BB guns. Donnie had a BB pistol. It was cool. I had a regular BB gun, and Larry, had a 4/10 over and under. Yep, he did. To tell you the truth we were all really good shots. If you practice every day all summer, and every day the summer before, you get to the point you can hit just about anything in range. We were not into shooting God’s creatures.

Dad always told me "Jimmy, if squirrels and other animals are smart enough to live in or near town, don’t shoot them”.

The three of us had no idea what we would experience that morning. I’m behind the other two. Larry in the middle of the trestle with a pocket full of stones. He liked to challenge us to see who could throw them the farthest into the creek below.

“Watch this”, he said.

“That’s not that far”, Donnie said.

By then I was standing with them about out of BB's. I shot two or three more times and realized it was time to reload. “Let me try that pistol”, I said. Handing my rifle to Donnie, giving him a tube of BB’s at the same time. Then I shoot the pistol and he poured BB's into my gun. The space out there was messy. People tossed all kinds of trash out. The up side? Plenty of bottles and cans to shoot.

“Hey, look at that car over there” Donnie said.

We knew were it was parked was a lover’s lane spot. People would come out there and make out after dark. It was a black Chevrolet coup.

Larry said "let’s go look."

I don’t know why but I was uneasy as we walked back on the tracks till we were about 100 or so yards from the car. As we started down the embankment I was thinking something seems strange about that car. For one thing we never saw anyone parked there in the daytime. Plus, there was this black round thing running from the tail pipe to the coupe’s window. As we got closer it looked like a piece of garden hose typed to the tail pipe. The tape looked all melted around the connection.

Donnie said “I think there is someone in there.”

We slowed our walk and about ten feet from the driver’s side we stopped. We could see a mans body slumped over the steering wheel.

“You think he’s asleep?” I asked.

Donnie went up and looked in. “I think he’s dead”, Donnie said.

Larry and I went around to the passenger side door to look in that way.

“Yes, he looks dead for sure” I said.

We took one more look and decided to high tail it back to town and call the police. We got to Larry’s place and told his mom.

She said, “Are you boys sure there’s a dead person down there?”

“Yes,” we all replied.

Sometimes Larry's phone worked and sometimes it didn't. It wasn't working that morning.

She said "You boys go on down the Donnie's place and call them. Hurry up now."

We ran the story by Donnie's mom, and she picked up the phone and called the police.

“Let’s go back and wait for the cop’s” Donnie said.

As we ran out the door I heard his mom say “Don’t you boys touch anything down there you just wait for the police. I’ll get dressed and come on by in the car”.

I couldn't believe she didn't tell us to stay put. Wow! Talk about excitement. We were back there in a flush. It started off with John Chester, our Robo Cop coming down the road on his Harley. The police model, white and had a star on the side. He was the biggest guy in town. As he pulled up beside us he was looking around for a place to put down the kick stand.

“Bring that flat rock over here,” he said.

Larry got it and took it over to him.

“Just put it right there” he said.

He moved the bike a bit forward till he though the kick stand would fit in the center of the rock, put down the stand and after a little adjustment, turned the bike off and dismounted. Man, was that cool or what?

Chester said, “You boys stay here”.

We were about 20 feet or so from the driver’s side window. As he started over toward the body I noticed he looked a little uneasy. But he went right up and looked inside. One more police car arrived and the ambulance pulled up. Donnie's mom was there by that time and a guy from the Headlight and Sun newspaper. He interviewed all of us. He did, he really did.

One of the officers tried to open the passenger side door. It was locked. Everyone was looking into the car when someone said

“I think this guy just got tired of living and gassed himself from the looks of that tail pipe.”

“Yep”, said one of the guys from the funeral home. “Looks like he killed himself. We are going to have to get the doors unlocked to get him out in this heat its going to stink to high heaven in there”.

Someone brought over this long, flat tin thing and Chester slid it down the passenger’s side window. The lock popped up and the door was open. He reached over the body and unlocked the driver’s side. Then walked around and opened the door sort of slowly. The body was a bit against the door and started to fall out. As he held the body in place, he said,

"Well let's not just stand around. You guys from Smith's get the gurney and help me get him out of here."

My dad always said "John Chester is one of the best cops you'll ever find, Jimmy".

As I watched him take control of that mess it was easy to see why dad thought that way.  After a few questions from the Chief of Police and the interview with the reporter, Donnie’s mom put us in her car and we headed back to town. It was a peek into a reality of life and death. We got our introduction on that hot August morning. "Boy's find body by the Swinging Bridge person's name being withheld pending notification of kin" the paper reported. Dad, read us the story two or three times and we called everybody we knew... which was about everybody.

A Small Town Sidebar

Until you experience Kansas weather it’s difficult to explain how rough it can get. I remember ice storms that would just make time stand still.

One New Years Eve we had one to top all of them. The guys from Kansas Gas and Electric were so busy everywhere in town it was nuts. No elect heat, no lights, thank heaven we had a gas furnace. We lit candles all over the house. It was fun.

Around midnight Dad looked out the window and told us to come see. A crew was working right in front of our house.

“Vaunita, go get those shot glasses down from the cabinet”, he said.

Momma went into the kitchen and called Johnnie and me.

“Jimmy, look up on the top shelf and get those little glasses down. Hand them to Johnnie”

As I looked I saw the bags of sugar and some other stuff. Lord the sugar had to have been there for a long time. Mom tended to hoard sugar when the war was on. Then I saw this crystal pitcher, some nifty glasses and there they were the shot glasses dad was talking about.

As we went back into the living room dad went outside. He had to be careful not to slip on the ice. Coming back in he put the shot glasses in his coat pockets and a bottle of whisky in his right hand. Dad handed all the gang a shot glass and the grateful crew had a wee nip. Dad helped himself while he was at it. He asked them to come in and get warm but they declined.

“We better get back to it Ralph, thanks for the warm up” the foreman said as they headed back out to fix the wires.

That was the kind of place Pittsburg was. A nifty place to grow up.

Number Please

Things change so fast. One day your 7 and the next day your 70. It's so important to stop for a moment and just take it easy. Think of all the things that have happened in your life time. Even if you’re under ten.

When I was growing up you walked over to the telephone, picked it up and this voice would come over the line "Number please". You would say the number you wanted and you would be "put through" to that persons home or business.

There were two types of lines. One, private lines. Private lines served only your house or your business. And two, party lines, where 2, 3, 4 or more homes were on the same line. So, as an example, if you picked up the phone you would know the line was busy because you could hear what someone else was saying. That's right! Not only could you hear what they were saying you could put in your two cents worth as well. An example,

"How long are you going to be on this line I need to make a call?"

Then you might get any response based on what the other two people were talking about and how willing they were to give up the phone.

"We just started talking you'll have to just hold your horses. Now please get off the line."

Other times you might call someone who had a party line and start talking about the latest gossip around this or that. Just as you would start one of you would remember you were on a party line and you would ask "Do you think anyone is listing?” Most of the time you could hear when someone picked up but once in a while they were sneaky. So telling tails on a party line had its fair share of risk.

I think we went from operator calling to dialing sometime in the early 50's. I remember the phone company was the only place you could get a phone. Ma Bell had the business covered like a blanket. Wires were everywhere. Wireless was only for the radio. The only numbers I still remember are Ma Kits, which was 728, and the cab company, which was 802.

Television Arrives

Radio was a big time thing. People use to sit around in the living room and listen to all kinds of programs. You might be surprised how much fun that was. With the sound effects, the comedy, the suspense. Then folks started talking about television. You had this set that looked like a large radio but had a screen in front. On the screen you would see all the folks you use to be able to only hear.

We didn't have a television station in town yet but dad wanted to get a set. There were two ways to get television reception from places like Kansas City or Springfield, Missouri. One was rabbit ears. That's right, they were called rabbit ears. You put them on the top of your television set and turned them this direction or that to try and get a station. Most of the time you would get a picture that was grainy and had a lot of white flakes which were called, sure enough, snow.

Dad would have none of that. He wanted an outside antenna. This thing was attached to the house and shot up in the air at least two or three feet over the roof. We got one you could "dial in". You turned this knob on the antenna box inside which was connected to the TV and hope to pick up a station. It worked best at night but it was still a hit and miss thing. Everything was black and white. No color. As time went on we got really good and dialing in stations.

Finally we were all ready to hit the big time. KOAM-TV was going to locate a station right between Joplin and Pittsburg. As they got ready to go on the air they ran a test pattern. You couldn't believe how clear it was. "Just like a picture Jimmy," dad would say as we looked at the test pattern on channel seven. When they started regular programs wow!

I don't remember much but on the radio station, KOAM and on the television station, their were a lot of ads for A J Cripe's Town Talk Bread

Howdy-do everybody, Howdy-do.

Howdy-do everybody, Howdy-do

If you eat Town Talk today

Everything with be OK

Howdy-do everybody, Howdy-do

AJ and the boys had this country band on TV around noon. It was interesting to see what they all looked like. We had heard them on radio now, right their in our living room, as plan as day, there they were.

Who Wears Short .. Shorts?

My last year in junior high my perception of what's going on in the world changed. Now mind you I was aware there were a lot of girls in this world but I just didn't know how much fun they could be. It was a girl named Jackie that set me on the pathway to savor the flavor of making out.

Jackie was a junior in high school and about six inches taller than me. She had this long dark hair and in the summer time, in Lakeside Park, she showed up most every Friday evening. She always brought a blanket and spread it on the ground with some books.

My friend John Castellani and I along with some other buddies would meet up and just hang out. The only problem was getting home at ten. That was my deadline. We always hopped Jackie would be there. She would swing on the swings and talk to us about this and that. One night, I'm not sure why, it ended up just being Jackie, and I.

She said, "Jimmy, have you ever kissed a girl?"

I said "Yes a few times".

"Have you ever French kissed anyone?"

Now I had heard what a French kiss was but I had never done it.

"I didn't think so" she said. "Come over here and let's sit on the blanket together."

From that moment on it was clear to me why there were girls and boys. Wow!  As I walked home dancing in the joy of the afterglow it never occurred to me that it was well past ten. When I walked in mom said,

"Where have you been its past ten thirty? You’re grounded for a week, Jimmy." So what, I thought. (Smile)

High School

My dad started me driving when I was twelve. I would drive him around to his various road jobs in the summer. When I turned 14 he had me working on one of his construction crews. I started out shoving hot mix asphalt and worked my way up to flagman.

It was a ways from our house on South Broadway, to Pittsburg High School a little north of downtown. You may not know it but back then you could get a drivers license when you turned 14 in Kansas. Yep, for sure. It was a beginners license and you could drive on errands for your parents and too and from school.

Taking the money I made working on the road crew the summer before I purchased my first car. A 1938 Cheviot.  I was so short I had to have two big books and a pillow to sit on to see out. It must have been a sight to behold. This skinny, short, young looking kid driving a car.

However, that being shared, my friend Dean and his friend Allen topped the charts with their car. It was '32 Chevy they bought and "improved".

Talk about creative expression. The improvements included spray painting the car in a glossy black using an attachment from Allen's mom's vacuum cleaner.  The car featured a bright red hand panted dashboard. Yes it did and they shortened the old-fashioned long floor length gearshift giving a speedy and snappy feel to the slick little car.   Top this off with a tailored red felt interior and away they would go.

What makes me remember the car is some of the stuff they did driving it around town.  It can get well over 100 degrees in Pittsburg, in July and August. In the mid 1950's some cars were just starting to come from the factory with air conditioning.  If you wanted there were other car air conditioners you could purchase and install.  However, the boy's 32 Chevy didn't have air believe me.

Back then if you purchased a car with air or had one installed you would see this small sticker on the driver’s side window that said Air Conditioned. Dean and Allen got hold of a sticker, placed in on the window of the 32 Chevy and drove the car, in the dead of summer, up and down Broadway. Stopping at all the stop lights in animated conversation with the windows rolled up tight as a drum. Pretending they were basking in air conditioned comfort.

After cursing downtown. Drawing attention to how "cool" it was inside the 32 Chevy, they would quickly turn onto a shaded side street.  In a flash throw open the doors and exit the car to keep from passing out from heat stroke.

Bushwhacking

One of the favorite things we would do on the weekend was go "bushwhacking". It all started with one of my friends who drove this old jeep. We would pile in and head for the state park or out on the back roads around the strip pits.

After dark we would enter the park or hunt the pits driving slowly with the jeeps night lights on. (You could hardly see anything if there was no moon) We were trying to find someone making out. If we found them we would slowly pull up behind them, honk the horn on the jeep full blast. And flash our light in their back and side windows. Yelling something cool like ...

"How far to the Old Log Inn?". You might have to think about that a while. 

We must have done that on Friday and Saturday more times than I can remember.  Then we would transfer the bunch of us to an enclosed car and keep up the good work when it was really cold.  It was mostly the guys but when it was my car we often took my friend Margaret.  She was a friend of mine and a real cutie and as crazy as the rest of us with nerves of steel when we were beating the bushes.

One evening, I think it was on a Friday night, we were out looking on the back roads around the strip pits.  We had our lights off and it was freaky dark.  Then things got into gear.  We spotted this care parked on the side of the gravel road.   The windows were all steamed up.   They had not spotted us and were very busy in the back seat.

On cue we turned on the bright lights and blasted the horn.  After about 10 seconds two heads popped up from the back seat.  A boy and a girl.  Imagine that.  We could clearly see with our head lights both were wearing less clothing that you might expect on such a cold night. 

We would have been well advised to put my car in gear and high tail it out of there right then.  But no we didn't do that we kept leaning on the horn and flashing our lights.  I think I half expected the guy, whose bare bottom we could see as he climbed from the back seat to the driver’s seat, to put his pants back on before taking off after us.  Not this guy or his girl friend either who was pulling on her sweater her arms as she climbed over the back seat yelling at the driver and slapping him on the shoulder. 

Somebody said "Lets get out of here that guy is big." 

I was laughing so hard I stripped the gears as I put the car in first, pealing out leaving a cloud of gravel dust and downshifting into second gear.  I thought we were going to get away clean.  I couldn't believe it.  Just as I hit third gear this guys lights came on and I could see he was coming after us big time. 

He had a newer car and was on my bumper like a bolt of lightning.  He wasn't playing around.  He came up behind us and rammed right into my back bumper.  The jolt was so hard it pushed my head back against the seat.  He was flashing his lights, honking and ready to clean our clock.  Somebody said the girl was screaming at us and giving us the middle finger.  Bushwhacking those two was a big time mistake.

"I'm heading for town you guys" and I took the first asphalt road I saw. 

I knew it would take us back to Highway 69, there we could turn left and in two or three miles be on the outskirts of Pittsburg.  For some reason the guy had dropped back a ways. 

"He's driving and trying to put his pants on at the same time" someone said. 

We all laughed but it was a nervous laugh.  I had that Chevy wide open.  About that time I heard a clunk and the sound of the muffler hitting the ground.  I knew what it was because I had the tail pipe hanging from a wire.  When the guy hit my bumper he must have knocked it loses. 

We were now going over sixty five and we sounded like an airplane.  The guy was about fifty yards behind us determined to kick our butts.  It was times like this when I wish I would have been bigger.  We figured the guy was in his thirties, must have weighed 225 pounds of more; well over six feet tall and ready for anything.  Holy cow!

There it was the city limits sign.  Perhaps we would be safe after all.  Still, like a chain on our leg, that guy with his girlfriend were right behind us.  I'm talking right behind us.  With his bright lights in the rear view mirror we couldn't see anything. 

Somebody said, "I think he has a gun." 

"You can't tell he has a gun, you can't even see his car with those bright in our face."  Jimmy Allen replied. 

I wasn't about to find out.  That guy chased up all the way to downtown.  Finally I made a decision ..

"Here's what we are going to do" I said.  "I'm going to pull right in behind city hall where the police station is.  "He won't dare chase us there." 

I pulled in and he didn't.  Thank God at last we were safe.  We watched him turn down a side street and disappear.  It was just us in front of the police station and the car sounding like an airplane about to take off.  We needed to make sure he wasn't out there laying in wait.  We pulled out of the parking lot and started to look around down town.  Making sure he was gone before we headed home.  Not one time did we look behind us for some reason.  Then, out of the blue, these red lights came on.  In our back window was a police car all lit up. 

I thought to myself, "Where were they when we need them?"

I pulled over and rolled down the window.  It was officer Slago.  A heave set guy and some rookie he had ridding with him. 

"What were you boys doing pulling into the police station and then pulling out again?"  He asked. 

"We were just checking the car, I think my muffler fell off."  Am I quick or what?  (Smile) 

He said "It’s not off your dragging it.  Sparks are flying from it every time you hit a bump." 

I got out of the car, so did the guys and we all looked under the Chevy.  Sure enough the muffler was hanging about an inch from the ground and the tail pipe was not to be found.  (That sort of rhymes)  While I was out there I looked at my back bumper.  That guy chasing us had banged that bumper right up into the trunk.

"Get that muffler fixed" Slago said "Or the next time I catch you like that you’re going to get a ticket." 

You know times were really different back then.  That guy didn't even ask to see my driver’s license.  If he had I would have been in big trouble.  I don't think bushwhacking has much to do with Driving only to and from school and on errands for your parents.

Pull On The Steering Wheel - Push On The Brakes

My friend Darrell and I debated together through high school. We did really well.  He often said, "Jimmy sounds just like a radio.  You just turn him on and stand back."

Darrell was more into the evidence of our presentations and I was more into the show and tell part.  We went all over the state and out of the state as well.  One of the interesting parts of joining the debate team was the travel.  Parents would drive the kids, taking us where we needed to go.  We would stay mostly Friday night and Saturday 

Back in 1955 mom and dad got a new car.  A 1955 Buick Century.  That car was fast, believe me.  It also had some new stuff that was just coming on the market.  Power steering and power brakes.  Power everything to tell you the truth, including the windows.  Mom, God love her, was always just a little bit confused about new finagled stuff.  So there was going to be a learning curve as she adjusted to driving the Century. 

We are on our way to Winfield, mom driving, and four of us in the car.  As we drove along Darrell said ...

"Jim, why is your mom doing pulling back on the wheel?"  

"What do you mean?"  I said,

"Just watch her as she stops next time.  She's pulling back on the steering wheel". 

Sure enough as we came to the road junction where we needed to stop she did it.  You could see her apply a little pulling back motion on the wheel and then she stopped.  She pulled so hard the steering wheel looked like it bent a quarter inch or so.  It was amazing. 

"Mom, why are you pulling back on the steering wheel?"  I asked. 

"The guy at the Buick place told your dad and me what we had to do to make the power steering and the power brakes work together." 

"Really" Said Darrell. 

"Yes, he did".  Mom shared.  :)

Darrell was going to get to the bottom of this and I thought better him than me. 

"Vaunita", He called mom by her first name, "What did the guy tell you about the power steering?"

By this time all of us in the car with mom were starting to realize this story had to be good.  The two of them had our full attention. 

"Well Darrell,"   She said "With these new power brakes you have to be really careful how quickly you put your foot on the brake pedal.  If you do it too hard they lock up and could send us all through the windshield.  So if you gently pull back on the steering wheel as you break it makes for a safer stop." 

That is what she said, it really was.  Darrell looked a little dumbfounded but he had been around mom a lot and I suspect he wasn't all that surprised.  Here we all were driving down the highway going over 75 (mom drove fast)  in this new Buick Century with a lady driving who thought to way to stop the thing was to pull back on the steering wheel as she put her foot on the brakes.  It was that way for the next three hours as we made our way to Winfield, Kansas.

Now our debate coach was a real rounder.   He kept it under control but everyone realized he wasn't your "normal" high school teacher.  You could find him almost any evening drinking beer with his buddies at this dingy little neon lit bar about five blocks down from fourth and Broadway.  He and his wife had some issues and from time to time she locked him out of the house for coming home late.  Often he had to sleep in the car.  The way his suits and ties looked gave those rumors a stronger ring of truth.

We got to Winfield and checked into the hotel.  The debates would start in the morning and the winners would be paired down to the quarter finals, the semi finals and then the championship debate.  You would, have four one hour debates to see if you went on or were eliminated. 

We all got settled in and it was time to go out to supper.  There was a little restaurant by the hotel and a we decided to eat there.  Mom, Darrell and myself along with a couple of the girls ordered off the menu.  About that time Coach and the rest of the gang come in.

"I hear you have that new power steering and power brakes on that Buick, Vaunita" The coach said. 

"Yes, it's a little hard to get use to.  It doesn't take much to turn or stop it."

Darrell looked at me, I looked at mom, and both of the tables were fixed on hearing what was coming next.  To his credit coach handled it perfectly. 

"You know, Vaunita, after the first 100 miles, after you get use to the power stuff,  you don't have to pull back on the steering wheel while when stopping anymore.  The car gets adjusted to the driver and it’s automatic from there".  He said.

 "Really, I didn't know that."  Mom said.  Problem solved.

Fire In The Closet

My younger brother Johnnie was a very bright kid.  Among other talents it was said he had "a blackboard in his head".  Yep, that's what they said.  You could ask him what 597 X 14 was and within no time at all he would tell you the answer.  Add, subtract, multiply, divide.. it made no difference.  Ask him and math question, using the "blackboard in his head" up comes the right total.  As for me, I was lucky to get through Algeria. He still has his hair too and I'm bald as a bat.  Go figure.

The house where we spent most of our lives, 1805 South Broadway, isn't there anymore.  The college has slowly crept over anything close to it but back in 1955 house was right there.  As dad was in the paving business the alley running beside the house was nifty looking asphalt. 

"The only paved alley in town", dad use to say.

After years of trying to get dad to do it, mom had brand new drapes downstairs and wall to wall carpeting everywhere.  It had cost big time bucks and was all "custom".  She was in high heaven. Mostly earth tones on the drapes and carpets and new furniture in the kitchen, dinning and living rooms.  It looked good, it really did. 

V Kay, was in New Mexico with her husband Harold.  Billy, and his wife Wilma, were in Arizona, Bill was in the Air Force or maybe they were back in town by then I can't remember.  Mary Ann, and her husband Jim, lived on the other side of town.  It was just mom, dad, Johnnie and me at home.  Mom had one and dad the other upstairs bedroom in the front of the house.  Johnnie and I each had one down the hall cross from one another.  In between were a master bathroom and the stairs.

It was winter and the weather that morning was a dark dingy grey outside.  It had spit a bit of snow the night before.  In the mornings Johnny always seemed to get up a little earlier than me.  I was still in bed deciding if I was ready to get up.  Dad was in his bedroom talking to one of the guys on the phone about work. Mom was downstairs fixing breakfast.  For all intent and purposes it started out just like any cold winter day.   That was about to change!  I was sitting on the side of my bed when I noticed Johnnie standing in my doorway. 

"Jimmy, Jimmy I think I have a fire in my closet".  I looked at him like he was nuts. 

"What do you mean; you have a fire in your closet?"  I asked. 

"Darn it, Jimmy, I do!" 

I could see he wasn't kidding.  Even in that dim light he looked a little pale and out of sorts.  I stood up. 

"Come on and see", he said

Very seldom was I ever in his room.  He had a chest of drawers, a bed, and that was about it.  He did have a fairly big closet and when I went in that morning the closet door was shut.  At first all looked normal till I glanced down at the space between the bottom of the closet door and the floor.  There was just a little wisp of smoke drifting out under the opening.  Holy cow!

"Look, Jimmy, just look at this!" 

When he opened the door I could see smoldering stuff in his dirty cloths basket.  He quickly shut the door.  Sort of like out of sight out of mind.

"Dang, Johnnie, we have got to tell dad.  That could start the whole house on fire." 

Johnnie looked at me in a panic and said.. "No we can't tell dad, you and I have to put it out". 

"No, Johnnie, we have to tell dad.  You are busted for sure.  That fire is getting a good start in there". 

I ran out of the bedroom towards dad’s door.  I knocked ... then opened it.  He was standing in his PJ's, bare foot with his hair messed up.  He stood 5'6" but, as I have shared before, was a wiry and tough guy.  I don't think I ever saw him afraid of anything other than when he built a bomb shelter in the basement during the cold war.  He was afraid of an A Bomb attack but that's another story.

"What’s all the ruckus going on in Johnnie's room", he asked. 

I knew no matter what happened I was safe.  I didn't start the fire, it was all Johnnies doing, so I just let it all out. 

"Johnnie started a fire in his closet". 

"What?"  "He did what?"  I could see his dark eyes getting wider with each "what?” 

"Let me see what's going on.  How could he have started a fire in his closet?  Johnnie what did you do?" 

All were good questions as far as I was concerned, and one's I didn't have to worry about answering. 

"I don't know, daddy, it just started".

"Fires don't just start, Johnnie, somebody has to start them. How bad is it?' 

A couple of minutes had gone by and the fire has been completely unattended.  As dad went in the room I could see more dark smoke coming out under the closet door. The whole room had that "fire" smell.

"Holy "S---", dad said, as he opened the door. "It looks like smoke coming from the dirty clothes basket.  Jimmy, run downstairs and get a bucket of water.   No matter what you do, don't you tell your mother what's going on up here.  Now get going." 

Like she wasn't going to notice me getting a pan of water and running back upstairs.  Right?  The only big pans I knew of in the kitchen were hanging on the wrack with the rest of mom's Revere Ware.  If I took the big one it was sure to get her attention.  She guarded those pans like money in a bank vault. 

"Don't let me ever catch you boys using my pans to wash the car or anything else.  It took me years to get those pans and I don't want them taken outside ever."  That kind of thing.

As I came down the stairs mom standing by the stove, I reached up for the big pan and headed for the sink.  I had no more than started to put the water in when she said ...

"Jimmy, what are you up too and why are you putting water in my pan?" 

I wasn't sure exactly what to say, but I was in a hurry, so as the pan filled up to about the top I said, "Daddy wants it upstairs". 

"Ralph, why do you want that pan upstairs?"  She yelled up to dad. 

"Get your butt up here Jimmy, and be quick about it."  He yelled back.

Mom for sure knew something was amiss.  Up the stairs I ran with the water slashing back in forth, some of it spilling out on the carpet. 

"Jimmy, your spilling that water on the new carpet", she said, as she trailed me up. 

My goal was to just get the water in dad's hands, what happened after that was in his court.  He was standing at the top of the stairs, Johnnie with him, as dad grabbed the pan and headed for the bedroom closet. 

"Johnnie, when I tell you open the door and stand back", dad said.

More than three or four minutes had gone by since that door had been opened.  We were about to see what can happen during that time frame to a closet fire.  Dad was standing directly in front of the door, Johnnie, was to the right ready to grab the door knob and open it up.  I think it might have been best if he had opened it up slowly, but in the "heat" of the moment (pardon the pun) he flung that door open full tilt.

Dad was standing directly in front of the door.  Poof!   The smoke and a few flames leaped out like they were going to shake hands with him.  Almost at once you could smell his hair singe and the room were filled with more smoke.

"Oh my God, Ralph.  Jimmy, call the fire department and hurry.  Mom said.

"I think we can get it out without calling the fire department, Vaunita" Dad said.

You could tell he really didn't mean it and I was on the phone in a flash.  The nearest fire station was the at the college just three blocks away.

"This is Jimmy Gore, our house is on fire."

"Your house on Broadway?" the voice responded. 

Later when the fire trucks got there I knew why the guy knew our house.  The Fire Chief was a cousin of my moms.

"Yes, 1805 South Broadway, hurry up!"

I had no more that put down the phone when I heard the sirens in the distance.  They must have hit those sirens the moment they opened the big door at the station. 

"There on the way, mama."  I said.

"Oh Lord Ralph, this is terrible.  The entire house could catch fire.  All my new things.  Johnnie, how did that fire get started", mom asked.  I don't think I remember Johnnie saying much back.

By now the smoke in the bedroom was really thick.  You could see his bed and the double windows looking outside but it was clear the fire was growing.  The paint on the closet door was starting to bubble in a couple of spots.  Just about then you could hear the fire trucks pulling into the alley.

"Go let them in, Jimmy".  Dad said. 

As I headed down the stairs mom was right behind me.  I could see Elmer, the Chef, coming up the front porch steps.  Two guys behind him were taking a hose off the truck and a couple more were heading for the hydrant.  Elmer looked ready for anything.  He had this hand held fire extinguisher, his helmet, a heavy fire proof coat and big rubber boots. 

As I opened the door for him, he yelled ... "Jimmy, where's it at?

"Upstairs, Elmer, in Johnnies closet."

By this time mom was standing on the landing going upstairs.  When she saw Elmer, the very first thing she said to him was ..

"Elmer, don't let those men track muck and snow in here.  We just got this carpet down." 

"Boys bring that hose right behind me and up the stairs", he said. 

Then, without much fan fair, he ran past mom and on upstairs saying "Stand aside, Vaunity.  We have to get that fire out!"

Dad pointed the guys to Johnnie's bedroom, not that it took much pointing, and the smoke was starting to drift out into the hallway.  Elmer opened the closet door and by then it was a full tilt fire.   Dad later said that when Elmer opened the door you could see the top of the closet was catching fire and it was going into the attic.  The hand held extinguisher wasn't going to get it.  They needed the hose and big time.

"Open up those windows over there", Elmer said. 

"We have to toss this basket out." he yelled as he shot the basket with the extinguisher. 

One of the guys grabbed the rim of the basket while another one tried to open the windows.  There were storm windows on the outside and they were having a problem getting them open. 

"Ax them out", Elmer said. 

And the guys did.  Including the middle frame supports.  Holy cow, you don't see that too often.  I couldn't believe how fast they did it.  Man the sound of that glass braking was something I won't forget.

By this time the hose was going and the fire guys were dousing the closet.  Someone brought up a ladder and was up into the attic. 

"It's singed up here, shoot the water through that hole.  OK, that's got it."  Said one of the fire fighters.

"Hold on boys, that mattress is burning, toss it out the window.  If we put it out in here we will have to get our smoke masks"   Said Elmer. 

Talk about an interesting morning.  Without so much as a "Hi, how are ya" the mattress went out the two broker windows and down into the side of the yard. 

"Get some water on that mattress down there, boys", Elmer called.

The upshot of all this was not as bad as it could have been.  Yes, their was a lot of damage to Johnnies room, and a little bit in the attic.  Nothing that couldn't be fixed while we were still living in the house.  Downstairs there was some water damage in the kitchen and dinning room.  All could be fixed with some new plaster.  It would be messy but all told it wasn't that bad.

So how did the fire start?  Here's the scoop.  No matter where you were in our house, there was always a light without a bulb in it someplace.  I don't know why be we never had enough light bulbs.  We robbed Peter to pay Paul, all the time.  Taking a light bulb from someone’s room and using it in ours.

In the winter mornings around 7 AM, it is still kinda dark.  Each of our closets had a light.  You pulled down on a string and the overhead light came on.  In Johnnie’s case, he did that all the time. 

However, over the past weeks, Johnnie’s light bulb had burned out.  He had the solution.  No, not to get a new light bulb but instead get a box of kitchen matches ...  that's right the big ones.  He put the matches in the closet.  In the morning he would go into the dark closet, strike a kitchen match to see what to pick out, and then blow the match out.  He tossed the used match in the basket.  Yep, he did.

Jesus Meets The Press

Thanks for your visit.  Hope you enjoyed our stories.  If your up for it, your invited to share an experience of a spiritual nature.

Simply click here for one of my other books ..
Jesus Meets The Press.  This book is based on my experience with The Twelve Steps, A Course In Miracles, and the communication of revelation. 

In love and light ..

Jim