My Early Childhood

          My Early Childhood 

 The early years of my childhood is a record of stories and memories. The story told of my overhanded throw of my bottle onto a cast iron floor register and shattering it. Then too, the story of my mother dressing me in a bright red coat so that I could be seen easily in the wide, empty farm yard.  No animals to pet or play with,but a rooster that liked to chase me. But here memory kicks in. I remember breaking several eggs into a large empty barrel, and stirring with a stick. I remember too how I stood sucking my thumb while watching the giant steam engine, and the wheat chaff blowing out of the mouth of a large pipe.  It was thrashing time, and it was our turn to have the wheat thrashed, and put into gunny sacks.  I tried to make my version of what I saw before me, with wood blocks and tin cans. Orly Swift, one of the neighbors, saw me with my thumb in my mouth and said that I was too big of a boy to be doing that, and he showed me his hand with a missing thumb. I was cured of the habit instantly. The farm was one of two owned by my mother's father, and we were living there.
 But now, only memory will be employed. My parents bought, or more likely, rented a small house in Michigan Center, just outside of Jackson, Michigan. The house consisted of a kitchen, living room, and two bedrooms. There was no bathroom, but there was an outdoor toilet, and a one car, empty garage.  All of our neighbors also had outside toilets. Behind our toilet grew many wild rhubarb plants. One game played by boys in the neighborhood was called "Golden Rod." A long stick would be thrust into one of toilet holes, and stirred around. Then the stick would be stood up against the rear of a toilet, with the messy part right side up. Then a sucker would be tricked into a race, the unsuspecting kid was to run around the corner and grab the stick and throw it. Pretty crude fun, but boys would also tear off the boards of the out houses in order to watch girls pee. We also briefly chewed road tar found in large barrels. When the war began we made grenades of clay and threw them at each other. Fighting took place with rubber guns. A pine board would be cut into a sort of gun shape. An inner tube would be cut into wide bands. Then, a couple would be used to attach a clothes pin. A rubber band or inner tube would be stretched over the end of the gun, and secured by the pin. When released by the pin the rubber band would fly, and if lucky, hit the other kid. And close up, it hurt. Two bolts could be screwed together on a single nut, containing a head of a kitchen match. When slammed on a hard surface, a loud report would result. There was also the game of "Kick the Can," under the street light at night. I can still recall the sound of screen doors slamming, and softly playing dance music. Our street was gravel, which made it fun to splash in puddles after a rain. I loved lying on my stomach watching it rain while looking through the front door screen. The house had a small front porch which was seldom used. In front of the house was a wide patch of purple violets covering the hidden septic tank. 
 My father was a guard at the Michigan State Prison in Jackson. I remember one time when he returned at night from a manhunt, and put his gun on the table. We had a canary named Johnny, raised in the prison. His cage was built there also. 
 And then came the war. My father went away to the Army, leaving my mother, sister, and me. We hung a small banner in our front window. My mother had two brothers, Tom and Sam. They also went away. There were a number houses on our street also with banners containing a dark star in the center. My uncle Tom had courted a girl who married another guy. She had a baby, and Tom bought a silver baby mug with the baby's name on it, and went away to war. He went to Canada and then to England, where he enlisted in the Royal Air Force.  As I think about it, maybe he went to England before we entered the war in late December. Anyway, he already had his pilot license, and may have taken part in the Battle of Britain in 1940. He never talked to me about the war. He did try to get me interested in radio, and I built two. I still remember his call letters were W8EYU. My other uncle, Sam, joined the Navy.  My mother taught school at a town called Vandercook Lake. I remember how in the dark early morning she would walk down to the bus stop and I would take my sister on my sled and travel the two blocks to the house where a woman whose name I can't recall, would take charge of us. My mother must have had a lot of guts. A job, two kids to raise, laundry, shopping, cooking, and a coal furnace. I remember carrying buckets of dirty water up the steps from the basement,and throwing it on my Victory Garden. 
I think it was Christmas at Grandma Beal's house when my mother suddenly took my sister and I back home. I never knew why, but I remember coming home to a dark, empty,cold house. A coal fire had to be made in order to try and get warm. There was probably no ice in the ice box, and no meat for Christmas dinner. Our next door neighbor who was a hunter had just killed a racoon. He gave it to us for our dinner. Some things like that, you remember. Meat was rationed just like most everything else. My mother later in life fondly recalled when she went to the butcher shop and Mr. Doan surprised her by wrapping up three pork chops, instead of her order. 
I remember too how the kindergarten teacher, Mrs. Arnold, taught us to grow wheat in a large box outside our class room window. I was finally taught how to skip by being chased around the piano. There was also a band. I played the bass drum, as did all the boys. The girls played a triangle, or twirled batons. We all wore red and white caps and capes. The scar over my left eye is long gone, but the memory lingers. I was pushed from behind while sliding on the ice, and hit my head on the ice. I was wearing a  flat army cap with a blue border. I was bleeding, and required seven stitches. My father sent me a German helmet, and we sent him cardboard boxes filled with socks,candy, and other stuff. He also sent letters called "V Mail." These letters were printed on photo paper and measured about five by seven inches. Some sentences were blacked out by censors. We had a map of Europe, and my mother tried to find where my father was. After the war, he said that she was often right. 
I was sitting in class, looking out the window when I saw a taxi stop at our house. This was unusual, as you never saw a taxi. I knew that it was my father. I asked the teacher if I could be excused. She told me I could, and I raced home. He had brought me a box with several plastic airplanes inside. I learned later that these must have been made for German kids. He also had three pistols, Nazi arm bands, a bayonet, and some German medals. The war was then over for all of us.