Kidhood. Adolescence?Best times? Favorite times? Photos?

[MurphOnMillerAve]

Being the tallest kid in the whole town was totally enjoyable. My mother, widowed just two years before this photo was taken in July 1957, took particular pleasure in my stature as well. Here, I have just turned 13.

[up148]

Great Photo! You were a big boy at 13 and looked like a great kid. Your mom had to be very proud of you. I remember those days well, when kids respected their parents and elders.

I can remember at about 12 years of age, measuring my height frequently against previous pencil marks on one particular door frame. Remember being so proud when I passed 5'6" and became taller than my mom.

Did your height create any issues for you with the older set?

BH

[MurphOnMillerAve]

Great Photo! You were a big boy at 13 and looked like a great kid. Your mom had to be very proud of you. I remember those days well, when kids respected their parents and elders.

...Did your height create any issues for you with the older set?
BH

Very pleasant of you to respond and to do so in such a nice way, up148. Thank you.

My mother seemed always proud of me (except when I'd forget and put elbows on the table ), but I sure was proud of her. When my father died, she took on the whole burden of keeping our house and car, calming me down from that shock, and put herself through business college, graduating, and becoming an Executive Secretary at National Tube Works, US Steel, in Pennsylvania. I had the responsibility of making sure dinner was on the table waiting for her the moment she came in the house after taking the trolley home from work. I always made sure I scheduled myself closely enough to return from school, deliver my daily paper route (78 "dailies" & 128 "Sundays"), and return home in time to cook those meals. That was my custom from age 12 to 16 (when I went to summer-work in Kennywood Amusement Park, in PA.) I theorize carrying those newspapers around in a canvas bag over my shoulder every day helped me grow strong.

Regarding "Issues" for me "with the older set," if I understand what you mean by that, I was tall (6' 1"), strong, and I believe respected enough by any older kids to have never been bullied - not once, not even challenged, except for one time. I didn't mind a good fight, though, loved wrestling with friends and playing tackle-football, and did reply-challenge a wild 20-something guy, through his miscreant friends, to meet me any time anywhere to square-off and settle any imagined-issues he may have thought he had with me due to my size. He had told my friends and his that he "was looking for me." However, he never showed up for the encounter, so I went looking for him, eagerly, but never found him. I heard he left the neighborhood In a hurry and went to live with his aunt.

If by "the older set" you mean the adults, due to my paper-route, and shoveling snow, raking leaves, and mowing lawns for all the neighbors, I got to know everybody, and they all liked me, which was demonstrated to me by the size and amount of tips I received regularly. I liked all our neighbors. They all had "authority" over me, always at-the-ready to caution me if I seemed to stray a bit from the approved norms for behavior.

Such was life for this 6' 12-year-old, back in the 50's. The house is in the middle, here, with a front porch built by-hand by my father.

[up148]

Been offline and just saw your post. You seem to be a salt of the earth individual, who grew up right and seemed to have kept that outlook on life. I wish there were more like you in our world.

Yes, my question had to do with 17-18-19 year olds picking on a large 12-13 year old, as I saw it happen in my small towns. Luckily other 17-18-19 year olds would not stand for it and it only happened one time that I was aware of. Despised bullies while growing up and still do and will do almost anything to undermine them.

BH

[MurphOnMillerAve]

Been offline and just saw your post. You seem to be a salt of the earth individual, who grew up right and seemed to have kept that outlook on life. I wish there were more like you in our world.

Yes, my question had to do with 17-18-19 year olds picking on a large 12-13 year old, as I saw it happen in my small towns. Luckily other 17-18-19 year olds would not stand for it and it only happened one time that I was aware of. Despised bullies while growing up and still do and will do almost anything to undermine them.

BH

Hi BH. I am immensely touched by that first paragraph - actually had to gulp and swallow hard upon reading it. Thank you. I appreciate hearing such a gracious viewpoint.

Now that you have inspired me to think about it, bullies were not a part of life in my neighborhood in western Pennsylvania. Each age group seemed to stick to its own age range. My closest friends, a couple of which can be seen here, though shorter in stature than I, were close to me in age , being approximately a year or two younger. I also had a group of friends my age, which rarely interacted with my younger friends.

In this photo, the boy on the swing, Robert, became a top lawyer in Pennsylvania and , later, a judge. The other boy's father created the first strip-mall type shopping place in the whole Pittsburgh area, I have been told. We are in Robert's yard, which as you can see, is unobstructed in its access to my yard, behind us, as well as to all the yards behind mine, right down to that apartment building, so we could play and run around unimpeded. I don't know anybody who did not succeed in having a wholesome and productive life, from my neighborhood. Some didn't make it back from Vietnam, however. And one playmate never made it out of his new Corvette's maiden voyage.

Our 55th HS reunion is coming up in August, and I am trying to determine of I have it in me to attend. I did go to the 50th.
Murph
Thank you, so much , for the conversation on this topic.
What were some of your stronger memories from childhood, if I may ask?

[up148]

Strongest memories is a toughy, as there are so many.

(1) Going to St. Louis Union Station with my Grandfather to watch trains come in on saturday morning when I was 5-6-7 years old. I was allowed to spend 1 week a summer with my grandparents and this was one of the highlights. Also, going to Immaculate Conception church with him as he was a devout catholic and you felt religion being with him. Worked with me to teach me Latin so I could become an Altar boy and no I was never approached to do anything but serve at mass.

(2) Riding the Admiral excursion boat on the Mississippi a few times before leaving St.Louis. Lot's of train activity on the riverfront, including the High Line with trains 30ft up in the air that ran parallel to the river, trains crossing the Eads bridge from Illinois (and others), plus trains running at street level. We also used to go on drives on special saturday nights during the summer, when it was too hot to sit at home. Invariably we would wind up stopping a few minutes down by the riverfront to watch the Admiral's dinner/dance excursion pull out around 8:00PM, then on to the Soulard Farmers Market and hopefully a treat somewhere on the way home.

(3) Moving into my grandparents house in Maplewood after my grandfather died when I was 8. It sat about 1/2mi away from the Frisco Lindenwood Yard across a valley that held the River Des Pare which, was a large concrete storm drainage system for part of St. Louis. Water always ran under the concrete slab bottom and work trucks would drive on it, but it only had water in it (above the visible floor) during big storms. We lived on the 2rd floor and I can still remember lying in bed and hearing the SW's switching the yard late on summer nights when the windows were open. Especially when an engineer would really wind one up to get out of the way of a through passenger train....they would scream.

(4) Moving from Maplewood to a suburb of KCMO in 1961 when I was twelve and leaving some very good friends behind. Unlike Maplewood, which is an inner-ring suburb and whose city limits blended seamlessly with dozens of other towns, Blue Springs was 20mi east of KCMO and out in the boonies. The town had 1900 people and that classic small town feel that I don't think exists anymore. Far enough out to have small town feel, yet close enough so KCMO could be reached in 20 minutes. It was idyllic and I'm so happy we made the move. Often wonder what my life would be if we stayed in Maplewood.

Lot's more in later years but no sense starting a novel.

BH

[MurphOnMillerAve]

BH, I'll bet I'm not the only one who enjoyed that read.
Murph
And speaking of Altar boys and Mass...one of the most meaningful parts of my life. It still is.

[Rufus T. Firefly]

..... Altar boys and Mass...one of the most meaningful parts of my life. It still is.

Yes, your formative years........

[MurphOnMillerAve]

..... Altar boys and Mass...one of the most meaningful parts of my life. It still is.

Yes, your formative years........

Yes, indeed, they gave me a place to look, an anchor, when I had no answers at all.

[Mitch]

Might have both of you guys beat. I was a Choir Boy and an Altar Boy. Sister Mary Catherine thought it best for me to leave the choir, as I couldn't carry a tune in a bucket. I served in 6th, 7th, and 8th grade, then on to public school and my career was over.

[MurphOnMillerAve]

Might have both of you guys beat. I was a Choir Boy and an Altar Boy. Sister Mary Catherine thought it best for me to leave the choir, as I couldn't carry a tune in a bucket. I served in 6th, 7th, and 8th grade, then on to public school and my career was over.

So interesting to have much of that in common with you, Mitch. A nice surprise.
We were not allowed to be both choir and Altar boys, so I opted for the one that felt the most intimately involved with the Mass, assisting the priest right at the Altar. Technically, I am still an Altarboy, since I never resigned and occasionally served at Mass while in high school and even made a few guest appearances when in college. Being as tall as I was as a boy, and as serious as I was about the whole privilege, I used to enjoy when several of the older ladies, after Mass, would ask me, often once I had removed my surplice but still had the cassock on, to light votive candles for them; they'd call out to me, " Oh, father..." I'd smile and thank them for the compliment, and then lit their candles after assuring them I was just an Altarboy.
Again, what a pleasant discovery to learn we were both Altarboys.

Here is my Eighth Grade classroom, and a few of the nuns-in-charge.

[up148]

I wanted to be a priest until it was time to enter high school. My Mom, grandparents and other catholics in the family supported this. But, once I reached high school age I realized it took a calling I didn't possess.

Great photos of the nuns Murph and that is one constant that never changed. They all looked the same regardless of the school you attended. I can't remember ever having a bad teacher among them and had some that were truly exceptional. Sister Carmelita comes to mind, who taught me in both 7th and 8th grade.

I'm afraid photos from this period of my life either went to my sisters or don't exist any more. Fortunately, I got a box of 35mm slides and 8mm movies that no one wanted, as we all lacked the equipment to view them. This year my wife and I had them all put on a thumb drive and transferred to our computer. Still putting them in chronological order and hoping to surprise my sisters and brother later this year. No one has seen them except my wife and I and it is truly humbling to see grandparents, parents very young and friends and family when I was young. Found much that was unexpected like movies of Germany (terrible destruction) after the war and before my Dad was shipped home.

I was fortunate to have some good mentors growing up. Immediate family taught respect and right from wrong, but there was always consternation, so I learned a lot from others adults, teachers and groups. Dad wasn't catholic and Mom was, so every Sunday we'd go through the same routine of arguments and BS. In fact, arguments and verbal abuse was the norm, not the exception at our house. But, there were many good times too and the consternation is only a faint memory; obviously I choose to remember the good times.

BH

[Mitch]

Sister Mary Catherine was the 5th grade teacher and the music teacher. She was the tallest nun I've ever seen; about 6'3". She had a pretty face and I always wondered what she'd look like in full without the headgear. She'd reach down into those deep pockets in her habit to pull out her tuning harmonica, and Gibby Beale asked her how deep was her pockets. She replied "deep enough to put you in and carry you around"!

[MurphOnMillerAve]

I always wondered, even as a boy, how the nuns and Sisters ever managed to suffer through every minute of every summer's day in those multi-layered, heavy fabric habits, including those tight wimple head-coverings. Sleeve inside sleeve. Skirt down to the tops of shoes. Torture. But I never heard one sound or word of complaint, and this was far before (1950s) air conditioning was invented and widespread.
The only time I ever saw them even roll-up sleeves was when my father gave a picnic (1958) for them, the Altarboys and Choir, and they played softball, running and cheering and having the happiest time I ever witnessed them experiencing.

[Roy]

I always wondered, even as a boy, how the nuns and Sisters ever managed to suffer through every minute of every summer's day in those multi-layered, heavy fabric habits, including those tight wimple head-coverings. Sleeve inside sleeve. Skirt down to the tops of shoes. Torture. But I never heard one sound or word of complaint, and this was far before (1950s) air conditioning was invented and widespread.
The only time I ever saw them even roll-up sleeves was when my father gave a picnic (1958) for them, the Altarboys and Choir, and they played softball, running and cheering and having the happiest time I ever witnessed them experiencing.

I remember a summer where I was forced to play baseball. It sucked. It's memories like this that make me so glad my God damned parents are DEAD!

And now, back to happy childhood memories...