Royalton – Part 2

I remember – we had a big iron coal furnace(?) that sat in the middle of the room. At least it seemed big to me. You had to shake the embers down from the top into the bottom to cool off before they could be scooped into a bucket to be taken outside. There was a coal bin outside that miraculously was filled from time to time. (BFO – blinding flash of the obvious – we lived in a coal mining town what else would we use to heat a house.)

I remember – from time to time we spent the night at my grandmothers house. I sometimes see flashes of the interior of the house. I do recall that we had to use an outhouse that was some distance from the back porch. I remember having to pee in the middle of the night in the winter time. I didn’t want to walk all the way to the outhouse in the cold and dark so I just peed off porch. I kind of think about that whenever I water the bushes on the golf course.

I remember – being bullied as a kid. Mostly just teasing because I was somewhat of a big, clumbsy kid. One day, during school, I was walking down an aisle between the desks. One of the guys, I don’t remember his name, stepped in front of me and I hopped over the desk to another aisle. He jumped over their too apparently wanting to just mess with me so I jumped over to another aisle and he did too. He then poked me in the chest. The next thing I remember my hands we around his throat and I was trying to stuff his head into a bookcase at the back of the room. I seem to remember that most of the bullying stopped after that. I didn’t get into fights. I try to avoid them if at all possible. The only other one I recall was many years later in my 20s. Someone with beer muscles was playing tough guy and wanted to fight someone and picked me for some reason. I asked him as he was getting ready to throw a punch if he was willing to die. That made him stop. He wanted to know why. I told him that I was dead serious. One of was going to die that day and it wasn’t going to be me. He changed his mind about fighting.

I remember – playing cowboys and indians with friends. We would pretend to be Tom Mix, Roy Rodgers, Gene Autry, Lash LaRue (using long, thin willow tree branches as whips), etc. We would emulate some of the singing cowboys and gallop around on pretend horses making up nonsense lyrics as songs. Looking back, that was probably something that influence me later on when I went through a phase of writing doo wop lyrics in the late 1950s and early 1960s.

I remember – a neighbor coming home with a huge catfish they caught logging in one of the rivers. They hung it from a large tree branch. Us kids would hang from the branch along side of it to see just how big it was. It must have been at least five feet long. They cleaned it and had a big fish fry for the neighborhood. I think of it every I smell catfish in a restaurant.

I remember – playing after a rain. Water would be standing in between the houses and we would run and do belly flops to slide through the grass. Now, people have to go out and buy a special, long piece of plastic to do the same thing.

I remember – having treasure hunts. We would put some items in a small box and bury it somewhere. We then drew maps to the location with spots marked along the way that supposedly gave clues to where the treasure was buried. We always seemed to be surprised when we finally discovered it and wondered who buried it.

I remember – my father taking me up to the miner’s locker room and letting me take a shower with them. The showers was a large area (seemed large to me) that had concrete floors and walls and a seemingly endless supply of hot water. That’s probably why I like to take showers today and not baths.

I remember – well, not really. My mother told me a story of her taking me to a department store when I was probably about five years old. Apparently, I disappeared and they had to look all over the store for me. They finally found me standing in front of an aquarium. When they tried to take me away, I said “No! I want to watch the damn fish!” I find it difficult to believe I was ever that bratty. I know I was always a perfect child. Yeah, right! Even today, I can’t walk past an aquarium display in an office or store without stopping to look at the fish. There’s just something mesmerizing about the critters.

I remember – moving to California in 1954. My father had gone out there before us looking for work because there was nothing to be had in Royalton. After a while, we took a train to join him. I don’t recall much about preparing for the trip and saying goodbye to friends and family other than being less than thrilled about leaving Royalton. Mom told me I had to look after my brothers and sisters during the trip and I was probably a little bossy. I remember there were observation cars where you could watch to scenery go by. I admit some of it was interesting. Thinking back, I’m amazed that my mother was able to make it. She had to take care of a baby and four other kids (13, 10, 9, 7). I’m surprised that we all made it without her throwing one or more of us from the train along the way. I think she must have had a lot of the pioneer woman spirit to make that trip with virtually no help.