The Criminal Mind of Grandpa

As I was recollecting my small life realized that at a young age I had a criminal mind as is reflected in the following 2 short stories. I can't quite visualize how old I was when I became a criminal but here goes for the world to know. I was young 3rd or 4th grade so I see in my mind I was at the Sprouse Rite Store, alone I think. There was a toy covered wagon with all the people. It must have been small enough for me to get it out of the store without being noticed. I never knew anything about having money back in those days. There was no such thing as an allowance back then. I believe my parents had all they could handle to put food on the table. The only money I had was from collecting beer bottles along the side of the road. Most of my ill gotten gains came from walking up and down Boise Ave. Well I got my wonderful new toy home and was ask by my mother where I got it I told her the store and I paid 10 cents for it. All was going well, I loved my new toy. Then came the day my mother went to Sprouse Rite to purchase something. She had see how well I liked my toy and she thought she might see if there was anything that went with the set. It was then that my goose was cooked. She saw the real price. It was then that her nice little son was nothing more than a common crook. Well a trip to the store by both of us to give back the toy and pay full price for it, ensued along with a whipping and being grounded for life. I learned from the experience that a life of crime only last for a while and that fun is short lived.
The next story goes to prove I learned nothing from the first story, so the life of crime continued. Roughly the same age I was one of the poor kids. I had to take cold lunch to school. I hated cold lunch. The same lunch every day. Peanut butter and jelly every day, some chips and an apple when we had them and occasionally a couple pieces of home made fudge. The fudge didn't count cause it was eaten on the walk to school so basically same sandwich every day. But then the criminal brain cells took over. I explain, all you needed was a lunch ticket to eat hot lunch. The tickets were pink with the # 1 through 5 on them. Its there that my mind too over. All I really needed was pink paper just like the tickets. Somehow at school I found that paper, I cut the new tickets to the same size as the real tickets. You got to stop and think where did I get the paper and what talent did I have to cut the tickets to look like the other tickets. Well the deed as done, I had my new lunch tickets. It was scary at first. I would take my fake ticket acting as if nothing was wrong and put my hand in the ticket bottle and then off to be in the hot lunch line. I did this for some time, but then as it happens, they started checking each ticket. The gig was up. I never got caught but my life of crime was over just that quickly. No more free hot lunch, back to eating my mothers cold terrible lunch again. I learned from this that you are going to get caught someday. But moreover I learned that to be successful crook you must act like the crooked thing you do. You must not act like the a crook but act as if what you do is okay. A lunch ticket thief, I was good at and I saw I must stop or be caught. There was no punishment for this I was never caught and no one has ever know about it. Now you all do. A life of crime is not a Christian thing, but you got to wonder what made Grandpa do this.
Well a wicked story should be followed by one good short story. One summer day my mother was in the middle of canning fruit. She had run out of canning supplies and sent me to the store to get those supplies. The store was on the corner of Boise Ave. and Gekler, not far from home. Well I went. Dressed in a pair of shorts and a T-shirt. I went to the store and got what was needed. I was told to hurry, she needed the stuff right away. About 3 blocks from home I notices this horse hung up by his feet in some barb wire. He was really agitated. I was worried for him, I was afraid he might get hurt. I knew he was the Bishop's horse, so I did what any child would do I hurried over to the Bishops home and reported the problem. I left and went right home. Apparently I had taken too long for thus a good spanking. But I new what I did was right. Then came Sunday the Bishop came over and thanked me for my help. He thanked me good right in front of my mother. Who says doing the Christian this is always the right thing to do. I've remembered this story all of my life it is the guide I use to live my life by.

Walking to school adventure.

I have three different stories all which are stories of a young boy's mischief.
Story 1. I started of to school with my fried Dickie Camp, a nearby neighbor of mine. The trail to school was abut 1 1/2 miles just short of my being able to ride the big yellow school bus. Before we stared our walk down the trail we wandered down to the empty irrigation ditches. Under the road was an irrigation pipe just the size for two young and inquisitive friends. We crawled through the pipes ending up on the other side of Boise Ave. There is a valley that goes to another irrigation area, down in this place there were piles of snakes, you know water snakes. We played around for a while we even picked them up. It was here that I learned to fear any type of snake. It was my luck that one would slither up my paint legs. I was terrified and couldn't get my pants off fast enough. From that day forward I have been terrified of snakes. The time seemed to disappear very quickly, we eventual make our way toward school. We were covered in dust and dirt. Arriving at school we realized we were hungry, but instead of going to lunch our teacher took us to the Principal, who gave us a great lecture, then he pulled out this extra large paddle with holes and gave us 2 hard swats each. The desire to have lunch had since been replaced by the repercussions of the fun day we had experienced.

Tricycle Freedom

Once upon a time I took a trip when I was about 4 years old and quite proficient riding my tricycle around the neighborhood. We lived n an old house down off 30th and State. My dad worked at a gas station just a few blocks away. I remember his bosses name was Doc. Being so young I don't remember much, I do remember though that inside the house was an old fashion water pump in the kitchen sink and that Mom and Dad got rid of the old ice box in favor of a brand new GE Refrigerator. Odd it would be that our family had that same refrigerator during the years we were raising our kids as a second refrigerator. I remember I used to ride the old trike in the house. Well as things go one day I needed an outing so off I went down State Street toward town. Now I can't remember everything but I tell you this. I was having a good time. I even stopped by some old guys house. He invited me in for a piece of pie. I made it clear down town on my trike. I must have been so happy. Golly just me and my trike and freedom. Well as freedom goes it comes with responsibility. My Mom must have missed me at some time and called "The Long Arm of the Law". Well the long and short of it the cops caught me in my new environment and new found freedom. My trike and I got hauled home on a motorcycle cops 3 wheel cycle. I must have been scolded I do not remember, what I do remember is being hooked up to the clothesline with a rope tied around me an the other end tied to the 50 feet from one end of a pole to the other pole. There I must have spent a good deal of my days. Back and forth and then forth and back. I have no memory of my trike after that day. I have a feeling it went South. All because a young boy had a desire to see the world and be FREE! This is a true story.

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Another baby story and update on the fall

My dear children, another story more or less, and updates on my eye and leg.

Once upon a time 64 years ago there was this mother who didn't know any better and thus cause what could now be concered abuse. I was rushed to the doctors office my whole body in one big rash from head to toe. You see my mother wanted to keep me warm. Born July 9, 1945 she had wrapped me in a big wool blanket on the hottest week of the year. My life has never been the same. To this day I don't like covers on the bed. Weird as this ma seem my mother had an interesting hobby when I was very young. Mom bless her soul would enter me in Beauty Shows. Yes, it's true my flesh was pedaled, and yeas I won a couple trophies and framed certificates that proclaimed I was the Most Beautiful Baby.

These pictures are of me as Most Beautiful Baby. I often wondered what caused me to become the way I have become. I guess these two stories have something to do with it.

Now on to the present. Fall is definitely here all our bushes and trees are all orange and red. Everyones' leaves are all over our yard. I have tired to do the yard, but due to leg & eye turning its colors, I can't invest much time. in clean up. It is all I can do to do my shift at the cannery. I am in much pain by the time I get home. I pray daily for a large wind to remove my leaf problem. I have to not get to excited about things. Days at the cannery come to and end Nov. 5th. The supply of pears fell some what short, we were supposed to work till Nov. 30. I guess I can live with that. I got a deal at the cannery 120 cans of cream of mushroom soup for .30 cents a can. I hoping to get a deal on tomato soup when it is produced.
Darlene is sending pictures of my eye and leg. The leg part is not doing so well. Well I've written all I know for now. These phots are one week after the fall we didn't know about the knee until three days after the fall. We appreciate all your blogs, keep it up.

Overalls and Schools

Please refer to picture. This is my first day of school so many years ago. Notice my parents spared no expense in outfitting me for the first day of the res of my life. Also notice my old reliable Radio Flyer wagon in the background. it was often that it was a 3 wheel wagon. I could only imagine that I was the only kid wearing farmer coveralls. I remember that I wore this style clothes when I was 2 or 3 years old. We lived on Woodvine Street. off Boise Ave. in a new subdivision for returning Vets from World War II. It was a 2 bedroom home converted to a 3 bedroom soon thereafter. We planted weeping willows from Grandpa Wood's farm down on Sunny Slope. My father took the missionary discussions and was baptized while we lived on Woodvine. A year later we were sealed at the Idaho Falls Temple. I have fond memories of going down on Broadway helping to build the new 6th ward building. that was back in the days when members participated in a building program to help with service as well as donations. So much for the beginning years of my life. Next time a story about people in the 6th ward that made a difference in our families life.

A side note Judy asked for more stories from your Dad youth, he said he couldn't remember anything. I started mentioning different stories he had told me and now you may have enough for a book!

The Right Hook

Grandpa wanted to send a photo of what a quick right hook can do to you. This happened to him Friday about 1:15 p.m. He loves to tell everyone that I hit him, but of course he did it to himself. Friday he was walking from the cannery to catch the bus home. The walk way goes from pavement or cement to dirt and back the entire walk and he trip on the dirt part and hit the cement part with his head. He broke his glasses (frames) and was bleeding a LOT. He had to take off his shirt to put on his cut to slow down the bleeding. He got to the bus took it down town to trade to the other bus and got home, there he had a neighbor look at it and them he call me a school to say he had fallen and might need stitches, but don't come home early, because I was bringing Pizza home for dinner. I asked if he was bleeding? He said kind of and his head hurt real bad but he was afraid to take anything for the pain. I left school, didn't get the pizza, and got home in time to see him walking home from the Dollar Store with a Coke in hand. I took him into the house to clean up the mess on his face. He had a lot of dried blood and when I cleaned it off it of course started to bleed again. There were a couple of little gashes that we debated about going for stitches or not. We opted to not get stitches and I put on neosporin and a large bandage. In the middle of the night he woke me up because there was blood running down his face (he take a blood thinner). I cleaned him up again and this time just used a dry bandage to try and close it up. The next day we got the butterfly strips to hold everything tight and we woke up to the SHINER.