Back In The Day

My older brother was my hero growing up. Five years older and much wiser, he forged the way to all adventures in my childhood. Interested in all things mechanical, he commandeered various materials from our home and neighborhood that he could retool. As far back as I can remember he took the eyes out of my dolls to see how they opened and closed. I never saw what he did with them but it was very aggravating because you can only play blind child for so long. No baby buggy, lawn mower, or any thing with wheels was safe from him. He would build go-carts that he would launch from the top of Robbins Road hill. We were familiar with inertia and perpetual motion long before our schoolbooks introduced us to the concept. Bob never lacked for a test driver even though brakes were not his strong suit. The thrill of the ride over came the pain of the crash. In retrospect I am glad that he never put a washing machine motor on one of those carts because we never wised up and quit riding. A motorcycle and a paper route probably saved us from permanent disfigurement.

My older brother always earned his own money because there was no money for momma to give us after we returned to Montgomery, minus a father. Momma was raising three children on the $150 a month child support she got from our daddy. Prior to that my brother started working around our neighborhood in Clovis, New Mexico throwing newspapers that we helped fold in to some sort of configuration that would hold the paper intact when thrown from his English bicycle. The bike had a fold down seat on the back that held the newspapers as well as our dog Rover when he slipped off to school to howl under my brother’s classroom window. He also dug through snow drifts to get people out of their houses during our exile to New Mexico and Colorado two years prior to us becoming a fatherless family. Snow shoveling was not a sought after trade in Montgomery, Alabama but the paper route experience led him into work with the Montgomery Advertiser. His English bicycle as a form of business transportation eventually gave way to a Harley motorcycle. That purchase was not without resistance from momma. She managed to work out a payment deal for a wonderful new bike with Matther's Hardware. Unfortunately for my brother, he had to make the payments. This was momma’s attempt to make sure he had his income tied up on something other than a motorcycle. Somehow he worked his way through a wide assortment of Cushman’s in various running condition to the Harley ownership. Rain or shine he was delivering those papers and helping out at home with his meager income. It was his quarter that bought our lunch at school many days.

The paper route was replaced by a job after school at Matther’s Hardware Store then the Amoco Service Station and the motorcycle soon gave way to Thunder, a 1939 Ford Coup named for the movie Thunder Road. Bob saw that movie 40 or 50 times thanks to a neighbor’s father owning the drive in movie theatre. I guess Momma never saw that the movie was about moon shinning or she would have worried about my brother’s motivation. Not to worry, it was the car that captured his imagination. The hot rod became the focus of his attention, as it always needed some work. It became a family project as Momma and grandma added the finishing touches of rolled and pleated upholstery. I guess momma was glad that my brother finally had four wheels under him instead of two. Those were the days of no money but the creation of strong family ties.

Those family ties are still strong. The problem we now encounter with Momma is that she has lots of practice worrying about us but she has not acquired a taste for us worrying about her