Two houses from where we lived was where the Daniels family lived. Their son, Bobby was my age and if his mother was in the right mood, she would let us play together. Most of the time it was at his house. I’m not sure why she was so protective. His dad worked for Gates Rubber Company, which was, located about six blocks south of Wards. My family enjoyed telling the story about an occasion when were driving past Gates in my uncle’s care and I enthusiastically said, “That’s where Daddy’s Bobby works.” At my age it sounded ok to me.
Our house only had one bathroom and since it was downstairs my brothers and I hated going down the dark stairs at night. Not only was it scary, it also took longer to get back under the warm blankets. To be honest, I suppose laziness played a part as well. I’m not sure who was first in finding the solution to our problem. Since this is my story, I think I might as well blame one of my brothers.
In the wall, at the back of the closet, there was a small hole and I guess we figured that it didn’t really go anywhere. We were only able to use this hole no more than two or three nights before my mother discovered something all over the piano downstairs, right below the closet. As I mentioned before, she had a great sense of humor, but it didn’t cover this offense. Can you believe it, she actually spanked us. This was one of the first times I learned that laziness can get you in trouble.
Sometime in my early years my dad and my grandfather owned a small café. I’m not sure what happened, but this venture must not have lasted very long because I have no memory of the place at all.
I don’t have any specific memories of when my parents decided to move. My Uncle Neville and Aunt Betty lived at 2137 S. Cherokee and my uncle found a house at 2444 S. Cherokee that he help my dad to buy. If I remember right, he paid something like $2,000 for the house. I do remember that I liked the new house because it had what I thought was a big backyard which allowed us to have a chicken pen.
So, in 1938, we moved from Lincoln to Cherokee Street. I was almost five-years-old. Shortly after we moved in was when Pal entered our lives.