Central Coast Senior

All of Madison Heights used to tremble in fear of my gang. Well maybe not everyone, but there was this one cat that we sure scared, once. Let’s face it how tough can a group of 3 – 7 year olds really be? The truth is I used to be the leader of a group of about 7-8 kids in the apartment complex we lived in and like all kids we did all the normal things one would expect. We played football, 7 on 1 with me being the one, we rode bikes, played in the fields and of course we had rock fights with the 6th graders over a hill in the field behind our apartment.

We probably averaged 1 rock fight a month over the right to play on that stupid hill. Matter of fact, if it wasn’t winter and we were going sledding, I think the only times we wanted to play on the hill was when the 6th graders were there just so we could have a fight. I can safely say we never lost. Looking back I think that was more a factor of the dinner bell or the street lights coming on, then us just chasing them off. But that’s okay; the important thing is that we won. The other thing that probably helped us is this field surrounding the hill was full of ammunition, where the dirt hill, while those on the dirt hill were a little limited in available throw able rocks. While most of the rock fights sort of run together in my memory, there was one rock fight that ended up being very personnel. One day Doug was just playing in the field right behind our apartment backdoor when all of the sudden one of the 6th graders throws a rock and hits Doug in the head. I come around back, see this and yell at Barry to go get the gang, we are going to war. So while he was off marshaling the forces, I began throwing rocks from a safe distance. Once everyone showed up we probably for the only time actually charged the hill, I was out for blood. I remember being tucked up against the side of the hill waiting for a chance to hurl my next rock, when I looked up just in time to see this kid with a really big rock getting ready to drop it on my head, fortunately I backed off threw my rock at him, don’t know if I hit him, all I remember is he staggered back and dropped his big rock so it just rolled down off the hill without hitting anyone.

I guess here is where I confess more of my criminal past. My mom used to send me to the store to get a loaf of bread or a little milk, she would let me walk to a grocery store that was located just outside the apartment complex. Well because we were a young family and my dad had to support 7 mouths and even then I and my brothers each ate for two. We never had lots of extra money. So I would always have to go and bring back all the change and turn it back over to my mom when I was done. Well one day I was hungry when I was there and there were empty lanes up front, and each lane had lots of candy, and I had lots of empty pockets, it seemed like the perfect match. So yes I shoplifted candy . I was pretty good at it too, I could fill all my pockets with candy, pay for whatever I was there to get and then devour all the candy before I made it home. A perfect system! Until the day I got greedy. My last time there was one candy, I think it was one of those cellophane packages that had a long roll of malted milk balls in them, and it was right next to the cashier’s back. It turns out that was the only aisle that had those and I had to have them. So I very carefully grabbed a package, shoved them in my coat pocket, turned around, took two steps and felt a large hand on my shoulder. Yes I was busted. This nice lady went through my jacket pockets and took back all the store’s candy that was in them and told me to never do that again or she would call my parents. I assured her it would never happen again, and it didn’t, paid for my loaf of bread and high tailed it home. Fortunately, I still had the candy in my pants pockets to hold me over until dinner.

Other memories of Madison Heights include tornados, Good Humor Ice Cream Trucks, and Comics. Now my reoccurring memory of tornados was how every time after a tornado alert, we would go outside and see that the weather was completely different. I must have believed in the Wizard of Oz, because I was convinced that these tornados were picking our apartment complex up and moving it every time. Okay so I was a little naïve. But seriously wouldn’t that have been cool?

Now Good Humor Ice Cream Trucks, oh my lord, every kids favorite. The sound of the Good Humor trucks music entering the complex excited all of us. From the Orange Dream sickles to the peanut covered chocolate bars. We could never get enough. It was way better than anything you could get today from one of the run down trucks of today. While mom and dad wouldn’t let us get ice cream every time the truck came around, we sure had plenty of it. I also think we scored more ice cream when dad was around, he like it too.

I fell in love with comics in Michigan. I could never have enough. I didn’t have favorites as long as it involved super heroes. I had a neighbor a couple of doors down that loved comics just as much and we would trade and share all of the time. I feel guilty now, but back then I thought I was really lucky. My friends mom was in the hospital for some reason and his dad would have to take him with him when he went to visit. Many times he would take me with them to keep my friend company. While 6 year olds aren’t the most patient types, so to keep us under control he would stop at a store and let us each pick out 2 or 3 comics that we could read while he left us in the lobby during his time upstairs.

Now the one other thing I remember is the funeral for JFK. I can remember sitting in the living room watching our old black and white TV as the motorcade worked it’s way down the street. I didn’t understand it completely, but I knew it was important and I remember how quite we all had to be while it was on., I remember mom and dad being very sad and little did I know that this event in a strange way was linked to what would become one of my passions as I got older. Space Exploration and Astronomy. For with our JFK pushing us into the Space Race I would have never have been allowed to witness space ships and moon landings in real life.

As I finish this post one thing I am noticing is just how different the world is today. Back then, parents gave no thought to their kids walking to a grocery store, or sitting in lobbies unattended. Things really were simpler and easier and I wish my kids could have experienced a life like that. A time without fear, okay except maybe for the shoplifting thing, a time when neighbors trusted each other more and kids didn’t need to be under a watchful eye every minute. Well here’s hoping.

Yesterday, I thought I was going to die. Stomach Viruses are certainly nasty and this one was nasty. This got me to thinking. As I have said we spent the first 7 years of my life living in either Washington or Michigan what I didn’t say is that I think I spent most of my time sick. I can remember Michigan having to wear earmuffs all the time. Even indoors!! It felt like I had permanent earaches.

I also spent way too much time in hospitals. Once from the croup, and then to have my tonsils and adenoids removed. All this before I turned 5. I remember my adenoids being taken out because that was the first time that the medical community lied to me. I can still remember the doctor coming into my room and asking me if I wanted to have them operate on me to take out my adenoids or to take this magical medicine that would make them melt away. Needless to say I took the magic medicine, which turned out to be a suppository that helped to knock me out so they could then operate on me. I have to admit, I wasn’t too happy when I woke up and found out that they had lied to me. Oh well at least I had the ice cream.

Having to wear earmuffs all the time caused another problem that wouldn’t be discovered for another 22 years. It was uncovered when I started my first job at Northrop. As part of the pre-employment I had to take a hearing test. I had thought I had done okay, that is until the nurse walks up to me and yells at me “DO YOU NEED A HEARING DEVICE FOR YOUR TELEPHONE?”

When she yelled, it scared the crap out of me. I told her no, but 20 years later I began wearing hearing aides.

I have to admit the best thing that ever happened for me health wise was moving to CA. Since moving here, the good news was that I didn’t get sick nearly as often but the bad news was that now when I would get sick, it would be extra nasty. Just like last night…

Growing up I can remember only 2 different train trips with the family. One was my mom demonstrating she was a real warrior. She moved us from Washington to Michigan on a train without Dad. I have no idea how she did it, but we all made it in one piece. The real funny thing for me is that I remember sitting in the regular coach car as we pulled into the station and we were all staring out the windows to try and see our dad. Don’t remember seeing him. But I guess it worked out, after all he was around for a long time.

The second time there were more of us and our dad was with us. I remember we had a stateroom with the really cool beds that pulled down out of the wall. I remember pulling into a station, somewhere and Dad telling Mom that he would get off the train while it was stopped and pick us up some sandwiches. We were excited about that and we kept staring out the window trying to catch a glimpse of him going into the station. We failed, we were looking backwards along the train and he probably got off and on more towards the front. Well I didn’t know that, so when the train started to pull out of the station and my Dad wasn’t back, I immediately jumped to the conclusion that we had left him at the station. He was gone forever, there is no way he could catch up and he would never find us again. So I start telling Mom that Dad isn’t back and we need to stop the train. Mom looks at me like I am an idiot and tells me to hush up. Well I stopped talking and I thought I would replace it with some good ole fashion sniffling. That went over well, as you might guess, until Dad magically appeared back in the room, hurray he was saved!!!

The last time we moved was from Michigan to California, Dad had a job at an Airplane company so we had to drive out. This was in 1963 so the family station wagon was a boat, but it had that cool 3rd seat that faced the back. This is of course where my brothers and I preferred to sit. So Mom and Dad had to go cross country in a station wagon staying at cheap hotels. And the best memory of that was breakfast one morning, Dad went to the liquor store near the hotel to pick up some cereal and milk for us to eat. Unfortunately, the liquor store was out of milk, Of the white variety.

So Dad brought us Rice Crispies and Chocolate Milk.

And yes it tastes as bad as it sounds. But we were at least able to get to California in one piece. My last memory of that car is the day it pulled into the driveway of our house for the 16 years in Garden Grove.