In the beginning – the First 10 Years
September 18th, 1944
My mother received the "OK TO LAUNCH" or so I was told, just before midnight and so off she went to the Truesdale Hospital in Fall River, Massachusetts.
She later told me the next five and a half hours were easy compared to the next fifty or so years that followed. Mom was always joking when the opportunity presented itself, I think.
September 19th, 1944
I was born this morning, they said the sun didn't shine.
AM 5:27 was the official announced time. This was the beginning of the extraordinary life, but I didn't know it at the time. As you will see, I didn't really realize or understand how extraordinary it would be until well after it was, like now.
We lived on the top floor of a two apartment complex at Fall River, Massachusetts. This is right across the street from Durfee High School, where my dad attended and graduated in the 1930's.
He went off to the Navy to meet his two - year military obligation to service. Back then, if you didn't volunteer, you were going to be drafted into the Army. So, he did his civic and military duty and joined, went overseas and left mom with me. You know, I really hadn't given that much thought as to why until now either. When he returned, he went to work at a mill plant office. Smith and Chase Electric, it was called and sold electrical supplies from wiring to light bulbs, to home builder companies and electrical contractors. He cleaned up, no kidding, in those early years but it was with a broom, starting at the bottom rung of the corporate ladder as an intern sweeping floors and literally cleaning up as I said. Slowly but steadily, he climbed to the top of that ladder.
He was determined to be a success at anything he did in those years. Indeed, he actually ended up buying and owning both companies several years later.
He'd take me to work occasionally to show me off and to be honest, show me what he thought should be my future in the electrical contracting business. He was determined there as well.
I can say that with surety because I remember him saying that many times. He was sure we would follow in his footsteps, if not me, my brother, who made his debut in 1946.
Those years were pretty ordinary with a few interesting exceptions. The most notable thing I guess that I remember in those days was the Coca Cola machine where one could put in a nickel and get a glass bottle of Coke. Dad also had an ample supply of candy bars in his desk. Mr. Goodbars they were called milk chocolate and salted Spanish peanuts, an absolutely delicious combination, also five cents each in stores everywhere. The good news is they are still available in some stores. The bad news is they are no longer five cents and about one-fourth the original size. But at the time they were big enough to share with at least one other person.
Another in the office memory that I cannot forget were two other warehouse employees, Eddie, the size of a longshoreman with the grip and hug of steel, and Norm, much slighter, lighter and not as able to squeeze all the breath from your body when he saw you.
Not far from the Plymouth Avenue office, were the Saturday visits, quite common, and always looked forward to after the office visits to a little store on Stafford Road in Fall River, that featured a stunning array of "penny candy" that was actually a penny.
The bad news is that little store is no longer there. Even more bad news would be that if it were, the candy would no longer be a penny. Those days as we say "the good old days," unfortunately are gone forever.
I was later told I was vaccinated from all the childhood diseases of the time and still managed to come down with I guess, mild cases of all of them and others as well.
As my father climbed the corporate ladder so to speak, each rung produced larger paychecks.
This is when the experiences outside of Fall River began in earnest. It was 1949 and at the ripe old age of FIVE, my brother had joined the family, he was three and we all went to New York City for a long weekend. We did the tours of course, everybody that went there did them I guess in those days.
Looking back, I remember more than perhaps many five year olds might. There was the trip to the UN. That was OK. Then we went to the Empire State building and I'll never forget the elevator ride from the first to the 86th floor which took exactly 43 seconds. Yes, two floors a second. When we reached the top floor, my heart, lungs, knees and feet were still on the 20th floor. That was not only impressive but scary as well. But I survived, we all did.
Next was a trip to the NBC network television studios where there was an experiment in the works with COLOR television. This was also the place where the hit children's show, Howdy Doody was broadcast every afternoon at 5 PM. Buffalo Bob Smith was the star and host with a cast of puppets and even some real people entertained daily. There was Clarabell, the clown that didn't speak, only honked, the Indian princess called Summer-Fall-Winter-Spring, on whom I had a wicked crush at five years old mind you. Dad thought we'd get to be on TV as a member of what was called the "Peanut Gallery" Come to find out, the waiting list to do that was about a month long or more. Then one morning we all rose at the crack of dawn to be a part of the window dressing, again at the NBC Studios, Today Show (still on the air today.) The star back then was a fellow by the name of Dave Garroway. For whatever reason he came outside and walked right by me, tapped me on the top of my head and said hello to dad. That I was told then was the big deal of the day. It was a great trip and as you see even at my tender age, I recall most of the highlights.
But all these things must come to an end at some point, so home we went after four very memorable days in the "big apple." I can't help but wonder at this very early stage how many of my experiences you folks my age or close to it also remember?
At five years life was pretty good. I was attending school at Sacred Heart Catholic grammar school. My brother Bill came along as I mentioned, in 1946 and a sister, Kathy late in 1949. She almost becoming the first born in Fall River on January 1st 1950. That would have been a really big deal I guess. Gifts galore from many local merchants, baby formula for life, that sort of thing, always awarded to the first born in any New Year. But I said almost. She was like 6 hours earlier than her reservation. Oh well, "stuff happens." I thought life was getting a little crowded at our house but as it turned out, mom wasn't done yet. But that's for later.
Back at grammar school, we had sisters, Catholic nuns to be exact who in those days dressed like penguins that all of us boys used to joke about. They were as tough as they needed to be, sort of like Marine drill sergeants that could get your attention with a smile and a foot - long wooden ruler or a ping-pong paddle. I know that for a fact because I was on the receiving end of a ping pong paddle, in an attitude adjustment exercise in the principal's office on at least two occasions that I remember.
Back in the late 40's and early 50's, BE, (that's before Elvis) we had two exercises on a regular basis. The first was the duck and cover exercise that the entire city participated in when one was called. This was all in case some country, like the Soviet Union, who was always mentioned as the culprit of choice, decided to drop a nuclear bomb from one of their planes that had somehow managed to find us in Fall River. They were infrequent drills but also something you can't forget. The other, far more frequent were the school fire drills and that horribly loud, ear drum piercing sound, the klaxon horn alarm that could cause hearing impairment if you didn't cover your ears when you were in the vicinity. They scared the hell out of me initially to be honest and truthful. But being a boy in whatever early grade in school, you could NEVER let that be known, for fear on instant ridicule by the other boys for sure and especially some budding young lady a row or two away that you had your eyes on more than the blackboard at the front of the room.
I just hated them later on because they all occurred without any notice, well to us students anyway.
I became fascinated by two things in these years. One was flying and of course I was determined to become a pilot for a major airline at some point in life like when I reached ten or twelve I thought, and music, especially 78 RPM records. Do they jog a memory or two? Thought so. Naturally, I was going to be a radio star and celebrity as well as a pilot.
I had a pretty fair collection of these 78 RPM 10 inch records, two of which I played incessantly to the distress of my father. One was a recording of "Once in Love with AMY, by Ray Bolger.The other was a song called the Happy Wanderer by a group called the "Wanderers." Both were "one hit wonders."
Go figure. There were others, Tennessee Ernie Ford, who started this narrative in a way with "16 tons." "Wheel of Fortune with Kay Starr, God Bless America sung by Kate Smith, who also had a TV show in those days. Finally, Doris Day with "Que Sera Sera" and Patti Page with "How much is that Doggie in the Window." Those were all my favorites.
My plane fascination was with the then New England airline, Northeast Airlines and their 19 passenger DC-3's and the 40 passenger Convair 440's that flew from New Bedford to Martha's Vineyard in 20 minutes flat at the then breakneck speed of 130 miles per hour. My grandmother lived on the island so I always had a built in excuse to go there and of course always wanted to fly.
In the later part of the first ten years, the ONE WAY fare for the flight was $9.00, (yep, NINE DOLLARS.) You don't even want to know how much it is today.
Believe it or not, I accomplished BOTH, becoming a DJ and a pilot
. That too is for later.
Dad climbed another latch or two on the ladder to now office manager, and with that came a pretty significant increase in salary.
That raise became a new single dwelling home, and shortly after that a brand new car where the well to do people lived in the city's west end. The car became the talk of the neighborhood, for a week or more. It was a Mercury Montclair all white, a convertible black roof with an encased spare tire mounted in a black metal case on the extended rear bumper with the word MONTCLAIR written on the encasement. At the time, clearly a statement, one had arrived so to speak.
Now, we had a driveway and a one car garage, but dad always parked the car on the street near the front door of the house. Even I was old enough to understand why.
I got into sales, even in the early 50's as well, collecting old magazines pretty much from anywhere on our block and around the area and attempted to resell then for at 60 to 90 percent off to the neighbors, just in case they missed that issue. My price for each was determined on the condition of the periodical and on my developing skills to let's make a deal of course and also on how fast I wanted to get rid of them. No reasonable offer was refused. I think it was about an even split between being a sales genius for the idea and a neighborhood pest for ringing doorbells in mid-day.
So it was in the years 1944 to 1954. The one other memorable thing was Hurricane Carol in 1954. Much later on, I would marry a girl named Carol, who also became a hurricane in my life. That too is for later on but I can say today I had two stormy periods in my life, one in 1954 and the other in 1974.
OK on to chapter two. Impressed yet? I hope so just from the recall. I keep thinking about that basement full of books !!