Memories of A Long Time Ago

Chapter 1

Memories of a Time Long Ago

A very long time ago, I was born in Philadelphia, I understand it was a rainy day and it was after WWI in the mid 30’s.
My first memories are being with my mother and father in an apartment of sorts.
There were bunk beds, a little kitchen and some sort of a little room that my father had a table and a chair in . I can still see him working on Balsa Wood making carvings of ships and airplanes. He also was a painter of still pictures like scenery and flowers, etc.. Some of his paintings still exist and are hanging in the home of one of my daughters, even today. They have no monetary value, but they are all that is left of him.
Times were tough and my father couldn’t get a job with most other companies, so
his step father hired him at the persistent request of my grandmother. The biggest
mistake that was made was to give him access to actual funds in the business. He
was deep in debt and embezzled $1500 to cover his debt.
He was obviously caught and his step-father wanted to press charges and have him
sent to jail. My grand mother stepped in and wouldn’t allow that, so he was banished from the family forever.
He was told that if he ever set foot in Philadelphia again, he would be prosecuted
for that crime. Back in the mid 30’s $1500 was like a $150,000 today and it would have bought a very nice home. I don’t think anyone fully knows why he needed that much money .
In order to escape his total past, he joined the Canadian Army, leaving behind his wife and children. Oh, I did say that by that time I had a brother, his name is Ronnie. I never saw my father again until I was 7 years old and again when I was 15. I have never seen him since and he has obviously passed on by now.
My mother, my brother and I were homeless and moved in with her mother and her two brothers.
I can remember being in an almost baron bedroom, just a bed and chair, looking out the window on a cloudy morning and seeing an organ grinder man complete with his little monkey, begging for money. I think it was raining as I seem to recall the street was a cobble stone street and it was wet.

I wandered off one day and I was taken to the police station, where I was for quite a while before someone came to take me home. It’s obvious today. that I was a handful.

I was a very inquisitive boy as I was into everything. I can remember getting into a cigar box of ribbons (Military Type) and was severely scolded for that, and another time getting my finger caught in the re-loader of a rifle. That time I got “What For”.
At that time I was probably about three and my brother was 18 months behind me.

What happened next is a mystery and to this day I have never been able to get the straight of it. Even when I was 55 and I was trying to discuss things with my mother, I point blank, asked her to tell me what happened. I said I thought I was old enough to handle it now.

Her very words were “If you don’t drop this line of questioning, you will no longer be welcome in this house.” She died 4 years later and it all died with her.
Well, anyway – My brother and I were placed into the custody of the State and in Foster homes, separately. I forgot I even had a brother. We bounced from home to home for about a year and a half. Then one fine day we were both picked up and driven to the deepest country woods you have ever seen. There were places where hard roads didn’t exist. I was about four and one half and Ronnie was about three. I can recall, he was still in diapers. We ended up in the home of farmers that even today, I wonder about. I do recall that as a child, during that summer we were there, these people had wild parties in the back field. I can recall they tried to get me to drink beer, but I would spit it out as I did not like the taste. The time would come, later in life, that I would not spit it out.

Let’s get back to the Mystery. I still can’t figure out why we were placed in the custody of the State, then, placed in Foster homes, when we had Aunts, Uncles, Grandmothers and Grandfathers that could have easily taken us in. One set of my grandparents actually adopted 2 girls and refused to take us in, and we were blood kin. These are the things I was trying to get from my mother before she died. What was it that caused the whole family to take such a position and treat us as though we didn’t exist.

The agency that we were in was called “The Children’s Aid Society” in Philadelphia.

We were now called “Aid Kids” and in those days that was a bad name, it was as bad as calling a black man “THE - N - WORD” and in some cases, worse. I’m getting ahead of myself.

Back to the farm, whenever we went anywhere, it was in a Model “T” Ford complete with a Rumble Seat. So, even in the rain, we boys had to sit in the rumble seat (which was outside like a convertible) while everyone else was inside. Remember, they were getting paid to take care of us, so it was the money that was important, not us.

The bedroom my brother and I shared at the farm was an area in an attic, which had no stairs to get there. We were simply lifted up and placed in the attic through a kind of trap door. There was a mattress and a couple of blankets. I can remember that Ronnie was still in diapers and it would get pretty rank up there, as it was summer.

Another thing I can remember, Ronnie, being in diapers and when we were outside playing he would poop in his diaper. I had a little play truck and a little shovel. I would put the poop in the truck and pretend to drive it to the side of the porch and I would bury it.

I recall once when we going someplace, I was crying very badly, they stopped the car
along the backwoods road and placed me on the side of the road and simply drove away. Instead of staying there I decided to walk into the woods and got lost. It was hours before I was found. Right after that, we were placed on another farm about 5 miles away from that one.

The way things were done in those days were quite different than today. Visiting privileges were allowed only every 90 days at the soonest. As time went on and many nights crying myself to sleep (Where’s Mommy) we began to start to forget who Mommy was. Every now and then she would get someone to drive her up to see us, but we began to see her as a visitor rather than our mother. There were also times when she would notify the foster parents that she was coming up to visit and I would sit by the road all day waiting and she never showed – nor did she call to say she wasn’t coming.
After many times of that, I began to really forget she was my real mother and just see her as a visitor. I would still go out and wait for her, when she said she was coming, even years later, I don’t know why, instinct – I guess.

The new foster parents were in their 60’s and were very good to us. We didn’t get the parental love a child should get but we did get very good parental guidance. We were taught the values of life that I believe every child should be taught growing up.
We were only at the farm for about 6 to 7 months and the family moved to the outskirts of a small town. So, instead of a 500 acre farm, we were on a 5 to 6 acre farmette. Still, it was a farm to us. I was still at pre-school age. The grade school was within walking distance and when I was old enough, I would walk to school every day.


The End Of Chapter One.