There are certain sounds or smells that bring back childhood memories. Some of them are season specific – one of those is the ice cream truck. Everywhere we’ve ever lived, except out in the country, an ice cream truck always came down our street on summer afternoons.
Ice cream was a treat for us. It wasn’t something that you could find in the freezer any time you wanted some. The refrigerators we had in the 50’s didn’t really have a freezer compartment. All they had was a small section for the ice trays. Now there’s another relic of bygone days – the ice tray! So when the ice cream truck came down the street, all the kids lined up to buy their favorite treat. We didn’t get ice cream everyday. Money was tight, what with three kids, college, etc.
Bob especially loved ice cream. I remember him crying if it was a day that we didn’t get to buy any. One day after we had been told that there wasn’t money to buy ice cream, Bob and a couple of his little friends (they were about 3 years old) showed up happily eating their popcycles. Mother asked them who bought the ice cream for them and Bob proudly announced that he did. When Mother asked him how he paid for them, he told her he used money, which was very interesting because Bob didn’t have any money. Or so we thought.
Further investigation brought to light that the money Bob had used for the purchase was play money I had in a toy cash register. Obviously the ice cream man knew that it would be useless trying to explain to a three-year-old the difference between real and play money. So he very kindly “sold” them their ice cream. Mother tried to pay the ice cream man the next day with real money but he refused to take it.
So, thanks to Bob, we got ice cream that day! The play money disappeared after that and Mother wouldn’t let us buy any more – ever! But that was just the beginning of Bob’s wheeling and dealing – he has always gotten the best prices on things!
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
Monday, September 3, 2007
Never Returned
One of the places we lived in Roanoke, Virginia was 515 Fugate Road. I remember numbers – it’s just one of my brain quirks. Actually it’s a family trait, but that’s not what I’m writing about. There were about 6 identical houses in a row with open common back yards. I now think of them as common yards due to the fact that every house in California has a 6-foot fence around the back yard that makes them private and I prefer that. We lived in the second house from the corner.
The Leonard family lived in the corner house. All the families that lived in these houses had numerous children – four seemed to be the minimum. So the backyards were more like a playground. In the summer there was almost always a badminton net set up and there were daily games of softball and touch football. I didn’t play any of these games because I was and still am athletically handicapped. I just plain suck!
Anyway the Leonard’s had an old black car parked between their house and ours. It was a really old car from the 30’s or 40’s. Budd may remember what kind it was, I don’t. I do remember that the back doors were suicide doors and there were pop up jump seats behind the front seat in addition to the back seat. There was a lot of room in the back seat! We played and had meetings in the car until the Leonard father forbid us to play in it anymore. And then one day the car was gone – never to return.
The McWilliams’ family lived on the other side of us. They had four preschool children that I babysat occasionally. The father, Bill McWilliams, took me to school each morning. I was in the 7th grade and the school I went to was downtown near his office, so it was convenient for both of us. Plus I didn’t have to get up as early to catch a bus – I am not now and never have been a morning person.
One day, Mr. McWilliams and I left for school/work as usual. Just another day. We talked about whatever we talked about and he dropped me off at school. I came home from school at my normal time. He did not come home from work at his normal time and he has never been seen or heard from again. He never returned.
The next few days must have been awful for his family. The police questioned me, but I knew nothing. There wasn’t anything unusual to tell them about our last morning’s trip to school. His car was found several weeks later at the Richmond airport, but no sign of him was ever found. It was speculated that he chose to disappear and had it all planned. His wife said they didn’t have marriage or financial problems. It was a great mystery. I’ve always wondered what really happened to him…he never returned, no he never returned and his fate is still unknown….
The Leonard family lived in the corner house. All the families that lived in these houses had numerous children – four seemed to be the minimum. So the backyards were more like a playground. In the summer there was almost always a badminton net set up and there were daily games of softball and touch football. I didn’t play any of these games because I was and still am athletically handicapped. I just plain suck!
Anyway the Leonard’s had an old black car parked between their house and ours. It was a really old car from the 30’s or 40’s. Budd may remember what kind it was, I don’t. I do remember that the back doors were suicide doors and there were pop up jump seats behind the front seat in addition to the back seat. There was a lot of room in the back seat! We played and had meetings in the car until the Leonard father forbid us to play in it anymore. And then one day the car was gone – never to return.
The McWilliams’ family lived on the other side of us. They had four preschool children that I babysat occasionally. The father, Bill McWilliams, took me to school each morning. I was in the 7th grade and the school I went to was downtown near his office, so it was convenient for both of us. Plus I didn’t have to get up as early to catch a bus – I am not now and never have been a morning person.
One day, Mr. McWilliams and I left for school/work as usual. Just another day. We talked about whatever we talked about and he dropped me off at school. I came home from school at my normal time. He did not come home from work at his normal time and he has never been seen or heard from again. He never returned.
The next few days must have been awful for his family. The police questioned me, but I knew nothing. There wasn’t anything unusual to tell them about our last morning’s trip to school. His car was found several weeks later at the Richmond airport, but no sign of him was ever found. It was speculated that he chose to disappear and had it all planned. His wife said they didn’t have marriage or financial problems. It was a great mystery. I’ve always wondered what really happened to him…he never returned, no he never returned and his fate is still unknown….
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