The Years 1951-1955 Presidents Truman and Eisenhower

 Childhood Memories 1951 to 1959

Preface  

My mother was born in a four-room house near the town of Shamrock in Wheeler County Texas  on a spot where now Route 66 runs right across the spot. The house was moved back from the road when it was constructed.

My Grandparent Johnsons were dirt land farmers who at the time lived in the small room hovel they rented,  and Mom was born in the corner bedroom. She was their second child who lived, born to my grandparents. June 3, 1929. She was their last child.

Mom has an older brother named J.W. Johnson  Jr. who was just given my grandpas initials and not his full name. My aunt Pauline his wife always called my uncle “Johnny.”

My mom’s name of Wilma was a popular one at the time and her middle name of June was because she was born in that month. Her older brother always teased her and called her “June bug.” She mainly went by the name of June until after she moved to California  and people started calling her Wilma.

My mom was a child of the “Great Depression” of the 1930’s. My grandparents moved from farm to farm , with my grandpa often working for 50 cents a day from sun up until sun down.

In 1940 my grandparents  moved to Lamb County and managed to but  165-acre farm . They put their life’s savings into irrigation wells tapping the underground aqua filters. The wells paid off with them eventually owning the farm in a short few years.

My mom was about 11 when she lived on the farm at Hart Camp where she became a teenager during World War II.  She began dating my dad whose parents were farming near the community of Spade only about 10 miles from Hart Camp.

My Dad was born at Portales, New Mexico in 1925. Grandma and Grandpa Williams moved to California from Littlefield while dad was still in the navy.

Wallace and Mattie Lee, Dad, Bonnie back row Grandpa, Milton, Grandma and Minnie in front row

My first memories are when Dad and Mom lived at 7106 Dinwiddie in the third house on Grandpa Williams’ lot in Downey, California. Dinwiddie Street stopped at the Rio Hondo River.

In 1945 Grandma and Grandpa Williams were living at 511 Davis Street in Downey but soon afterwards bought a large lot on Dinwiddie Street about an acre.

My folks moved to Downey after they were married in 1946. My oldest Charline was born in 1947 while my folks were living here. Dad worked as a steel worker.

Grandma and Grandpa Williams lived in the larger front house numbered  7102 Dinwiddie along with my uncles R.L. and Milton. My Aunts Minnie and Bonnie also were living at the house. My Uncle Wallace Williams and his wife Aunt Mattie Lee lived in the second home behind Grandpa at 7104 Dinwiddie.

The 1950 federal census for my Williams grandparents was taken the year before I was born on 11 April 1950. It showed them living at 7102 Dinwiddie Street in Downey, California. Grandpa was listed as “press punch operator for the Conveyor Manufacturing Company. Grandma was working also as a drill press operator in the “automobile industry.”

Living with them was my uncle R.L. who worked in “assembly in “farm implements.” Also in the household was Aunt Bonnie, Uncle Milton, and my great grandmother Minnie Danforth. My Aunt Minnie was not listed in the household.

My uncle Wallace and aunt Mattie Lee Williams were living in Littlefield, Texas with my older cousins Francis Ann and Marilyn. Marilyn was born in California in 1948. Wallace was working as an attendant at an auto service station.

While my mom and Dad were living in Lamb County Texas in 1950, they evidently were skipped in the 1950 census. My sister Donna was born in 1949 at Amherst as was I in 1951.  I figure I was conceived in July 1950

1951 born to Age 8 months

Dr. T.M. Slemmons held the newborn infant in his left rubber gloved hand and slapped the purplish form with his right relieved to hear the wail of new life as I inhaled life sustaining Texas air. The young woman laid nearly unconscious by the pain killing drugs administered to her and heard the doctor exclaim “Miz Williams It’s a boy!" Routinely the doctor looked at the functional clock on the delivery room wall and noted for the official records “five: thirty-Six: in the morning." It was morning even if the dawn was still a half hour away. The assisting nurse washed me and wrapped me in a sterile cotton blanket and placed a tiny plastic tag around the crying baby's wrist marked, “Williams, Boy. “

It was a Tuesday, a Spring Day; the Tenth of April 1951. Anxiously my dad waited for news. Two older sisters laid sleeping oblivious to the entry of a baby brother into the world. Soon a Nurse dressed in white,  her hair severely pulled back in a bun and covered by a  starched nurse's cap, appeared, and smiled  at my dad and said "Mr. Williams  Your wife is doing fine, and you are the dad of a five-pound baby boy!"I imagine my entry into this world was very similar to this scenario. My mom said that my dad was so proud that he went around exclaiming to everyone, "It’s a boy! It’s a boy!" My dad finally had his heir- his son whom he hoped would be created in his own image. I was to be such a disappointment to the dreams and ambitions of this young man who held such hopes for me.

My dad and I were at odds from the start. My mom told me that  I would never let my dad hold me as a baby. Whenever he attempted to hold me, I would begin to cry and fuss to such a degree that eventually my dad was reluctant to hold me at all. Thus, from the very beginning my: dad and I have been at cross roads.

Dad and Me 

Shortly after I was born, my dad had an operation to prevent me from ever having any more brothers or sisters. He had a vasectomy thus placing upon me the sum total responsibility of providing my dad with male heirs.

I really don’t know when the riff between my dad and me reached a point  of no return but the gulf between any real communication seemed unfathomable. I’ve known others who have a close loving relationship with their fathers, one in which they share and accept each other's life choices. I've never known that. I  had a dad who felt uncomfortable in the presence of his own children. In a very real sense, I never knew my father. I still don't. I know he loved me in the only way he knew how and sacrificed most of his life to provide for me and my sisters. But I've never really felt like my dad really enjoyed my company and that somehow, I was a disappointment to him. My mom tells me that this is not so,  that my dad is very proud of me but in my heart of hearts I don't feel that he was.

My parents were farming at the time of my birth near my mom's folks at Hart Camp in Lamb County, Texas. I was born about 15 miles west of Hart Camp at a small country hospital, in the town of Amherst. Amherst was a small farm community at the time with only a population of few hundred. The county seat, Littlefield  was a much larger town however my mom didn’t"  trust the doctors there declaring that they were al, "Quacks".

My cousins John Johnson, and Frances Williams, and my sister Donna  were also born at Amherst for similar reasons. My oldest sister Charline was born in Los Angeles where while my folks were living in 1947.

From my 1972 Journal

“I was born on the morning of a Tuesday in the Amherst General Hospital in the small farming town of Amherst located on the plains of West Texas. My parents were farming in the vicinity of Littlefield during the time I was conceived. My parents had two other children, both daughters which by the very nature of their sex I was conceived. My father very much wanted a son and if by some fate  one of my sisters would have be gendered a male, I would not be writing this now for after I was born and able to carry on the family name, as if there weren’t enough Williams in the worlds, my father had a vasectomy  performed  rendering him incapable of siring further off springs.

            My eldest sister is named Charline Williams, the spelling of her Christian name was part of my mother’s lack of former education. The name itself I heard was from an old girlfriend of dads.

            Charline was born the 9^th of June in Los Angeles, California while my parents were living with my father’s parents on Dinwiddie Street in Downey. About a year later they returned to West Texas and tried their hand at farming again near my mother’s parents who lived in the community of Hart Camp. There they had another girl born in the same hospital I was. Mom said there was a much closer hospital to where they were living than Amherst, located in Littlefield by she said there were too many “quacks” there.

            My other older sister was born June 25^th in 199 and she was originally to be named “Nellie Fay” suggested by my Grandmother Johnson, but my mother was influenced by her nurse  to name the child instead Donna Fay and that is what appears on her birth certificate.

Less than two years later I was born in April 1951 and my mom wanted to name me Edgar Paul however my father insisted I was  named after him Edgar Hugh Williams Jr. which is what is written on my birth certificate. Since August, this year I’ve gone by my true name Ben meaning son.

Charline, Me and Donna on the Farm

1952

The first year of my life was spent on the plains of West Texas in the nurturing care of my mom and the doting love of my Grandma Johnson. Because  of my grandma’s upbringing she held that boys were more special than girls and this new baby grandson was the light of her life. For my first birthday I was given a plastic model of a Palomino Horse with a removable saddle. My grandma said it was my pride and joy and would not let anyone else play with it or even touch it. It was mine and I loved it.

My  dad was farming at the time, but he didn’t particularly tike to farm. Dad was 'a natural mechanic, carpenter, and handyman. He enjoyed working with his hands and so when a hail storm destroyed his crop, my folks moved to Lubbock. Dad was so discouraged and angry over the loss that he said he’d never farm again.

Dad had a Cousin Mildred Williams who was married to a man named  Claud Kelton who worked for the Lubbock Police Department. Using this connection Dad was hired as a patrol officer in Lubbock but after his partner was shot on the job, Mom insisted that he quit, and the family then picked up stakes to move back to California where my Grandparents Williams were living. My folks left Texas in 1952 and it was nearly 45 years before they are ever moved there again.

When we were ready to move to California and were saying goodbye to Grandma and Grandpa Johnson, I took out my horse, ran up to Grandma and gave it to her to remember me by. I must have wanted Grandma to have something I loved because I loved her so much and in my little mind thought I might not ever see her again. This entrusting of my precious horse to the care of my grandma endeared me forever to her heart. She kept this old plastic horse on a knickknack shelf in her bedroom and when I was older and staying with her, she related this story to me.

Upon arriving in California my parents settled in a small two-bedroom shack behind my Grandparents at 7102 Dinwiddie Street in Downey. My Grandma and Grandpa Williams had moved to California during the Second World War and bought a large lot in Downey which had three dwellings in it, the main house, a house were my Aunt Bonnie Fagen would live, and an old shack. A 1952 directory listed Grandpa as a steel fitter for the Conveyor Company in Mayflower. My uncle R.L. and Aunts Minnie and Bonnie were all living at the same Dinwiddie address. R.L. worked as a salesman for the Standard Stations in Pasadena. My uncle Wallace was listed at 7069 Dinwiddie next door and was working as a steel fitter for the Conveyor Company. My cousin Gary Wallace Williams was born in 1952.

Dad went to work at the fabrication plant that Grandpa worked at. He worked for the Conveyor Belt Company for the next decade mostly as a welder.

My Aunt Bonnie and her husband Bill Fagen lived in the house closer to Grandma and Grandpa's and of course my Aunt Minnie actually lived with Grandma and Grandpa until their deaths.

In the back of our house, Grandpa kept his chickens and outside our side yard he raised berries and had a vegetable patch. It was a small hovel of a home and eventually it was torn down and Grandpa had nicer homes built on the site which he rented out.

My first boy cousin Gary Lynn Williams was born this year.

My 1972 Journal

            Shortly after I was born my father joined the Lubbock Police force. He didn’t especially are for the work and when his riding companion  and best friend was killed on duty, my mother forced him to quit, and they tried their hand at farming once again. However, a hail storm destroyed the fields and my parents had enough of farming and left Texas taking us out to California where Dad hoped to find more steady employment.

            My father’s Williams family  had already  settled in California during the World War II years and my Grandfather Williams was working at the Conveyor Belt lant in Los Angeles. He was able to get my father on at the plant  and he worked there during fabricating  with my grandfather. For a short period, we lived in this shack of a house behind my grandparents’ house until my parents were able to save enough money  to move out.

1953

I have very vague recollections of living in that shack behind Grandpa Williams' garage. Most of my memories are of it are from after we had moved to Garden Grove. I vaguely remember standing in a crib of some sort wanting my mom to pick me up. I do remember Grandpa going to the chicken yard where he chopped the head off a chicken and then gave it to me to hold by the legs. However, the headless chicken started flapping its wings and I dropped it scared to death seeing it run around the yard until it dropped. I had to have been traumatized by that. I remember Grandma Williams scalding and plucking the chicken feathers.

I also had the feeling that Grandpa Williams didn’t like small children unlike Grandma Williams who loved her grandchildren. There must have been a scandal going on at the time with my aunt Bonnie as she got pregnant out of wedlock and married in July the divorced brother of her girlfriend, Billy Wayne Fagen. The 1950 federal census  showed that Bill Fagen was married to a woman named Janet and had two young sons Christopher and Johnny.

Grandma and Grandpa Williams moved from Dinwiddie in 1953 to 8277 Cole Street still in Downey. Aunt Minnie and Uncle R L were still residing with them. R L was employed at the Damron Sleep-Air Company owned by a brother-in-law of his cousin Marjorie Fern Damron. Wallace had moved his family to Yucaipa. My uncle Milton at the age of 18 joined the army.

1954

I don't know how much of this is reality or just a childhood fantasy, but I have a strong impression that on my third birthday [1954] in April, Mom had planned a birthday party for me, but I came down with the measles and was unable to attend. It seems to me that mom had the party anyways and I remember looking at the little children outside have fun while I was isolated from them. Somehow, I felt like it was something because of something I had done wrong.

Many years later in college I was asked to paint my feelings of my third birthday. Only a few of my class mates were able to complete the assignment however I was able to distinctly recall my feelings. On a large sheet of paper, I drew in one corner three colored circles of red, blue, and yellow. Slashing threw the paper I then painted a red barrier and on the other side I splashed the paper with little red dots. I really don't know if this really happened, but it is a part of my childhood recollections.

In the summer of 1954, my parents purchased a new home in the central western portion of Orange County. As far as I can determine, the house my parents bought was located on land which was once part of the Old Rancho Los Alamitos land grant which was deeded to some soldier of the King of Spain. In the late 19th century, it was sold as part of a land speculators land development  known as J.W. Bixby’s Subdivision Lot 10.

When Corporal Manuel Nieto retired from the army of the King of Spain in 1784, Governor Pedro Gages granted him the use of a huge parcel land extending from the foothills above Whittier to the ocean. After grazing cattle on this broad expanse of the coastal plain for many years, the vast rancho was divided among Nieto’s children. Rancho Los Alamitos, a portion of the original grant containing about 28,000 acres, was deeded to Nieto’s son Juan Jose Nieto. The adobe ranch house built by Juan Jose in 1806 became the core of the Rancho Los Alamitos headquarters and home site, which has become a museum and historical site within the boundaries of the city of Long Beach.

In 1834 Governor Jose Figueroa acquired title to Rancho Los Alamitos for $500. Eight years later he sold it to Abel Stearns for $6,000, paid mostly with tallow and hides from the rancho’s cattle. Stearns, a native of Massachusetts, had arrived in Los Angeles area several years before and had established himself as a successful trader and shop keeper.

In order to own land in California, Stearns became a Mexican citizen and joined the Catholic Church. He married the much younger woman named Arcadia Bandini, daughter of one of Southern California’s most influential families. During the next twenty-one years, Abel Stearns became one of the wealthiest landowners in California, having acquired many ranchos from their debt-ridden owners.

During a prolonged drought in 1863-64, many of Stearns’ cattle died, forcing him to default on a $20,000 mortgage owed to Michael Reese, a money lender from San Francisco. Reese assumed ownership of Rancho Los Alamitos, but from 1866 until 1878 Rancho Los Alamitos lay fallow, until leased by John W. Bixby.

In 1881, John Bixby, jointly with Isaiah. Hellman and the J. Bixby Company bought Rancho Los Alamitos. After the death of Bixby in 1887, the rancho was divided among the partners and his widow.

In the  1880’s Hellman of San Francisco purchased the land as part of land speculation, and it remained in the family’s hands until 1943 when Lot 10 was sold to an orange Grover rancher named Jules De Pauw [1890-1953]. The De Pauw family lived off of Brookhurst and when Jules died in 1953 his son Camiel De Pauw [1923-1993] sold Lot 10 to the MacDonald Brothers who laid out a subdivision of tract homes known as Village Highlands. They offered three-bedroom homes for as little as $600 down.

One of my earliest memories is riding with my folks down Orangewood and Beach Blvd and seeing a tall sign with a Scotchman holding a Bagpipe. Of course, I could not read the sign, but I assume it was proclaiming the new housing tract Village Highlands. I remember seeing our house in its wooden frame form still without stucco. That is all I can remember.

Mom and Dad were anxious to move out of' the shack behind Grandma and Grandpa Williams and were the first to move in on their side of  Dale Street. In November we moved  from Downey to Orange County where a newly developed housing tract located in the middle of an orange grove orchard  about five miles from the small community of Garden Grove and I mile from the rural town of Stanton. We were at the time in a part of unincorporate county.

Mom said they moved in the last week in November, but their Grant Deed was dated the 3rd of December 1954.

At the time we moved to Dale Street from Downey, we were considered to be part of the community of Alamitos which was a small farming community near Magnolia and Chapman where the old Alamitos Elementary School was located.

The main roads had always been in the area since JW. Bixby first surveyed the area and Dale Street had been a country road since 1900. The street was originally called Dale Avenue and Orangewood Avenue was known as Bryant Street until the County changed street names for uniformity.

My elementary school was called Bryant named for the old name of the street. Chapman was originally Alamitos Street and Beach Boulevard was Stanton Avenue and Highway 39. It was only in the late 1950's that the names of the streets became what they are today. In the 1950s and ‘60s, several roads were developed. Katella Avenue was finally connected to Willow Street in Long Beach, making it a major east-west thoroughfare.

Our house was a brown stucco plastered single story dwelling trimmed in white with a red asphalt roof. It was built on a large lot however there were no fence in the backyard to divide property lines. One of the first things Dad did was get together with his neighbors and built a cinder block wall around the perimeters of our backyard.

The house consisted of four bedrooms, 2 bathrooms, a front room, a dining room, and a kitchen. We only had a one car garage and for many years we only had one car. The driveway was asphalt gravel.

Mom and dad’s home in 1954 was priced at $8500. Mom told me it was very difficult to come up with the down payment and the $75 monthly house payment. In 1975 I had written in another autobiography that my parent’s home was worth $30,000 and I added as to explain that outrageous amount that it was because of "inflated prices." When they sold the house in 1988, they got $145,000 for it. Today’s market it’s worth at least a quarter of a million dollars because of its location. It was a real reality shock to realize that Mom and Dad's house was worth more than Grandma and Grandpa's 165-acre farm in Texas.

Inside the house the walls were all painted gray except for the kitchen which was painted bright yellow with white metal cabinets. The house had no carpeting. Instead, it had a black variegated tile throughout the house except also for the kitchen. The kitchen had red tile with yellow and blue specks.

Our house was heated by two wall heaters at either end of the hallway. They barely took the winter chill off the front room and hallway, but my bedroom was always cold. It was not until the early 1960's that we even had air conditioning when dad put in a swamp cooler. And it did get hot with that red roof. I remember one time it was so ungodly hot that we were suffocating in the house. Donna and I had the bright idea to climb up on the roof and put a water sprinkler on top of the house. Donna on her way down slipped and fell into a bush in the corner of our porch. She didn't hurt herself and the water did cool the house off, so I guess it was worth it.

We were the first to move into side of the block although we weren't the first to move into our tract. The Raymond Barrett family was given a Grant Deed the 22nd of November 1954. They lived behind us and down towards Hopi. The house to the north of us at 11552 was the next home sold on our block. It was bought the 23rd of December 1954 by the father-in-law of Mr. and Mrs. Campbell who lived there with their two boys Ricky and Steven Charles who I knew as “Stevie”. Mom later told me that they were Mormons, but I never knew it at the time.

Ricky Campbell was older than me and I have little recollection of him, but Stevie was about my age born in September 1950. He was forever getting me in trouble and introduced me into some  very sexual behavior at a very young age.

As I recall Stevie Campbell was really a mean shit when he wasn’t using me for sex. The only person meaner than him was his brother Ricky who would beat on Stevie and then Stevie would beat on me. I never liked that arrangement. I never fought back. I never wanted to hurt anyone. I just wanted to be liked and play with Stevie in the locked bathroom.

The first I can really remember becoming sexually active was with Stevie Campbell I am not sure when he initiated me into the mysteries of my own body, but it was before kindergarten so probably in 1955. He would take me into the back blue bathroom of our house, lock the door and then we’d pull down our pants and he play with me. I loved it and enjoyed sitting on Stevie with him rubbing up against me, but I also had this tremendous feeling of guilt.

Even at this tender age I feared that somehow my parents would find out that I was doing "nasties” with Stevie and that they would not love me anymore and that they would abandon me. I use to have nightmares to this effect that my mom would discover my doing the  "nasties" and being so repelled by it she would reject me. I was frightened  I would be lost, alone, and unloved. This was a real fear I had.

I don’t know how much of this pre-kindergarten sexual activity colored my sexual preferences as an adult. It certainly taught me that boys were more fun to play with then girls because little boys had penises and little girls didn't.

I remember also about this same time the daughter of our neighbor across the street took me into our side yard and sitting under a blanket wanted me to show her my penis. I did so and asked to see hers. She showed me her Vagina and I exclaimed "Where Is your thing?" I was totally bewildered. She told me that it was inside her. She was six years older then I so surely, she knew what she was talking about.

I had a few other encounters of playing doctor with neighborhood girls, but they held little attraction for me because only little boys had a “ thing" .

The Campbells lived in our neighborhood until about 1957 when the family moved away, and the Casas Family moved in.

From my 1972 Journal

Some of my first memories as a small child are from this house located at 11562 Dale Street. I first remember seeing it not yet full completed when it was still in its wooden frame form. I must have been with my parents  who were out seeing about the progress of the construction. They had made a long and huge move form Downey out into the “sticks” of what was then provincial Orange County near Highway 39 which later was renamed Beach Boulevard. The housing development was in the middle of nowhere, but improved roads and new shopping markets were promised by developers.

My parents bought  the house new for $8500 and it contained 4 bed rooms, 32 bathrooms, a living room, dining room and kitchen with a n attached one car garage,  it had a spacious  front and back yard  that dad and mom had to plant sod, trees, and bushes in, Dd even built a six-foot-tall red cinder block fence around our back yard by himself.

The house was a reddish-brown colored stucco with a white wood trim and a red asphalt shingle roof.

Inside the walls were painted gray with black asphalt tile floors though out the house except for the kitchen which had red.

My cousin Terrie Lynn Williams was born this year. She was the youngest daughter of my uncle Wallace.

1955

I remember our neighbors  at the beginning of my life on Dale Street were very friendly as we were all new. Directly across the street from us at 11561 Dale Street were the Horans, also Catholic but nominal. Thomas Patrick Horan  [1912-1993] was a very jolly  good-natured man who loved children and animals. His wife was Kathryn Jean Chapman  who we called Jean [1920-2011] who had been my mom’s friend ever since they moved into the subdivision until both of their deaths in 2011. She was a very extraordinary woman who gets what she wants  and had an extremely good eye for justice. She was also like a second mom to me. Their children were stepson Jim [Strobridge] Horan born 1938, Patty Horan born 1942, and Carol Horan born 1945 who were all teenagers and were more friends with Mike and Paula Battreall as they were all in high school together at Rancho Alamitos.

It was with Stevie Campbell with whom  I was playing across the street with my sisters and some older kids. When they darted across the street, I simply followed. Mom said she was doing the dishes and when she heard the car screech, she had an instinct that it was me.

I was not 3 years old so it would have been after December 1954 and before April 1955. While following Stevie Campbell as he ran across the street, I was struck down by a car and was sent to the Santa Anna Community Hospital.

I know it scared the devil out of my mom when I was hit by a car driven by a Mr. Hart. He could not stop in time, and I was rushed to the hospital. Mom saved a newspaper clipping but did not write on it the date, but it had to be before my 4th birthday in April.

 “Boy, 3 Runs in Front of Car, Injured. Garden Grove- A 3-year-old boy is in Santa Ana Community Hospital with major injuries suffered when he was struck by a car on Dale St., north of Hodie [Hopie] Dr. Edgar Hugh Williams Jr. 11562 Dale St. was taken to the hospital at 3:30 p.m. Thursday after he ran in front of a car driven by James William Hart, 45, of 2423 N. Pacific St. Santa Ana. Hospital attendants said today the youngster spent a “good night” and was doing well. Hart told California Highway Patrol officers that the child darted in front of his automobile from behind a parked car.”

I must have hurt my head in the accident as it interfered with my speech pattern and I had to relearn certain sounds, especially my S’s. Most “s’es” came out as an “f” so mom laughed when she taught me to say lollypop. Words with R’s and L’s were tough and together in a word like “girl” was even tougher. It sounded more like gerrr. For much of my elementary education I was pulled from class for speech therapy which embarrassed me to be singles out. To this day I have to often think about how to say a word before saying it.

I remember distinctly sitting in the doctor’s office asking my mom if Peter Pan which had just been shown on TV would be on again. Mom said no and probably not for ten years. I was so disappointed thinking 10 years was forever. We must have had a black and white Television set by that time. I was probably seeing the doctor was a follow up after my accident as that Mary Martin’s performance as Peter Pan was shown on 7 March 1955 just before my 4^th birthday. The show made history as the first Broadway musical adapted to TV with the entire cast and crew intact. That is why I know the date of this memory.

For much of the 1950’s the front bedroom was used as a den to watch TV as that Charline and Donna shared a room, and I had the smallest middle bedroom between them and mom and dad. Often as a little child I would crawl into bed with mom and dad probably around this time.

Dad was a western television watcher and we watched Warner Brother shows like “Cheyenne,” “Sugar Foot,” and “Maverick.” We didn’t watch comedy shows as that dad wasn’t into them and what he watched we watched.

One time Stevie Campbell talked me into riding on his handle bars all the way down to the Orange County Plaza on Chapman between Brookhurst and Gilbert about three miles from home. It had just opened as I recall, and it was a carnival atmosphere. It was at the time the “Orange County” shopping center. Across the street where Zody's department store once stood there was a huge carnival tent with colored pennants wafting in the breeze.

We went inside but I couldn't see anything that looked like fun just merchandize and grownups looking at items. However, Stevie zoomed in on the good stuff and found a table that was giving out free samples. Only thing I definitely remember is eating a cinnamon-sugar coated graham cracker. I had never eaten them before, and they were so delicious that the sensation remained with me all my life.

I was an compulsive over eater even then, but I was so young, and  active that I burned off' all the calories I consumed. When I came home with Stevie, I remember Mom really being angry with me and punished me because I went off without telling her where I was going. When I told her where I had gone, I really got a whipping then. Stevie was always getting me into trouble.

In 1955 Dale Street in front of our block was torn up to put in an underground drainage pipe. I remember following Stevie into one on these pipes at an opening at the corner of Dale and Orangewood. I really wasn’t frightened wandering around inside the maze of pipes and eventually I came up somewhere near Hopi. In the meanwhile, while laying those pipes huge mounds of dirt were placed in front of our house from digging the trenches. This was great fun. Danny Battreall and I suppose Stevie and I would play all day in these mounds building tunnels for our trucks and army men.

Give me a spoon and a pile of dirt and I was in heaven. I never needed electronic Wizardry to entertain me. Just give me some dirt! It was at this time I found a small brass bull dog figure in the dirt. It was missing a back leg, but it was a treasure for a kid. I gave it to my grandma Johnson to put on her knickknack shelf and after she passed away, I retrieved it and still have it in my possession.

Back in the neighborhood, it was growing as new families continued to move inmoved in. The house next to the one on the corner of Hopi and Dale at 11602 was sold next after us. I never knew the people who lived there because they didn't have children that I know of. The house next to them on the north at 11592  was the next to be occupied. Loyal and Anna Woodworth bought their home the 18th of Feb 1955. He had a son named Loyal Alton who we just knew as Alton. He was several years older than me born in 1948 and he also had an older sister named Martha I think born in 1944 so I never really got to know this family very well.

An incident happened to me regarding this family that I'll never forget. I must have only been four years old when I wanted to watch Walt Disney on television. For some reason that I now can't comprehend,  I walked down to Alton's house at night, walked right into their home and sat down and started watching television with them. Mrs. Woodworth, I remember laughed about this and thought it was quite funny and I guess it was. I don't know how I got back home unless they took me, or my folks came for me. I do remember sitting down and watching Walt Disney with them, however. They sure didn't seem to mind. I remember Alton as being a good kid but as I said he was several years older than I was, about my sister Charline’s age so I never had much to do with him.

Mom said that the houses north of the Campbells  were Model Homes and were open to the public and thus they weren't sold until the rest of the tract had been sold. The house on the corner of' Hopi at 11612 was sold the 11th of March 1955 and again I never knew these people but the people that bought the house south of us became dear friends.

Carl P. Battreall [1913-1995] and his wife Madeline Battreall [1917-2009] moved in their house at 11582  the 17th of March 1955 to the south of us. They were Catholics with a nine-year-old son named Mike, a 7-year-old daughter named Paula, and a five-year-old son Danny Battreall who was to become my childhood friend and playmate. Danny Battreall and Stevie Campbell were both just a year older than me.

Madeline and Carl Battreall seemed so much older than mom and dad and I suppose they were being 42 and 38 years old and Mom and dad were 30 and 26. Madeline was very gossipy,  and the family was devoted Catholic. They had a son named Danny who was but one year older than me who was my playmate for most of my childhood. He was always 1 year older than me because he was born in March 1950.He had an older brother Michael called Mike [1941-1984] and sister Paula  born about 1945 who were both teenagers, so I never knew them much. A younger brother named Timothy who was born in 1958 when his mother was 41. Since Danny was born in 1950 Timmy as I knew him basically grew up alone.

During the latter part of 1955, the homes north of the Campbells were finally sold. On the corner of Dale and Orangewood was the Strachan Family at 11502. They had older children then the rest of the people on the block. I remember in particular two girls who probably were in Junior High School however at the time they seemed so much older. One time they made a mixture of peanut butter, crackers, and water for us younger kids to eat. All the little kids ate greedily, however although I was never one to turn down food, I thought it was inedible.

South of them came Sam Porter Beaty [1920-2002] and his wife Eileen Beaty [1928-2005] who bought their house at 11512 in November 1955 bringing to the neighborhood two children 8-year-old Bryce E. [1948-2000] we pronounced ‘Breese’ and 6-year-old Robbie W. as we always called her. Mr. Beaty was a car salesman and Mrs. Beaty also worked as Breese and Robbie were left home a lot. And for good or bad Donna had herself a neighborhood girlfriend in Robbie as I had Danny Battreall as a friend. At times Robbie and Donna were inseparable. The Beatys moved away about 1963 and Bryce Beaty eventually went to Vietnam. He also was also the boy I learned to masturbate from.

Breese Beaty was at least three years older than me and only got interested in me when he was reaching puberty . He liked for me to fondle him, and I liked doing it. Breese was a strange kid. Troubled I think because his folks fought all the time and I think they drank a lot. I don’t think Breese had many friends either. When he was a young teenager before his folks moved away, he use to hang out at our house and eat supper with us because I think he wanted a normal family.

I used to spend a lot of time at the Beaty’s house in the 1950’s. I remember that Mr. Beaty would walk around a lot in his box shorts only and Mrs. Beaty often just had on a bra and slip. For some strange reason, my strongest memory of being in that house is watching the cartoon Heckle and Jeckle on their television.

Robbie Beaty taught me to shop lift when I was in 3rd grade. We would go to the Stanton Plaza, and she would show me how to do it. I got caught at the Five and Dime and they took me home to my parents. I was so mortified and scared that it cured me of any life of crime. Besides, they could tell that Robbie was the real ring leader.

What do I remember in that first year on Dale Street? I remember walking down long halls in a strange house thinking how big it all was. Mom had black drapes with big red floral patterns on it. Most of the furniture was that blond Danish modern that was so popular in the 1950’s. We had no television but did have an upright radio console. We had no phone that first year either.

One distinct memory pre-school [1955-56] I remember my older sisters dressing me in their clothes and showering me with attention. I was loving the feeling of happiness and fun until seeing my sisters stop their laughter when a dark shadow fell upon the festivities as I looked up and saw my dad standing in the door way. He had his finger clenched between his teeth, the sure sigh of his wrath,  I remember cowering as he growled  "TAKE THOSE CLOTHES OFF HIM."  I didn’t know why but I felt that my dad hated me.

We went back to Texas to visit Grandma and Grandpa Johnson probably in June. I remember riding in the backseat with my sisters and going through the desert most likely on Route 66. We passed all these interesting motel and travel lodges that were in various shapes. The one I remember distinctly was shaped like teepees. We traveled straight through and slept in the car which I remember had a water bag tied to the front of the radiator to keep the engine from overheating.

Grandpa must have met us first and took us kids to the farm to greet Grandma who was surprised to see us. Maybe we were her birthday surprise. I don’t remember much else except I have seen photographs of me holding the hand of my Great Grandpa Luke Johnson so we must have gone to Amarillo to visited him. He was born in about 1866 and was about 90 years old at the time. He always claimed 1 Jan 1866 as his birthday but he was illiterate and born out of wedlock so who knows.

Years 1956-1962 President Eisenhower and John F Kennedy

 

`    Year 1956 Ages 4-5 years old

Between Danny Battreall and me, I am sure we dug up the whole perimeter of our backyards building forts and roads and tunnels for our plastic army men in the 1950’s. Danny was great. He was just as imaginative as me and I was lucky to have him as a play mate. I don't know if it was because of his strict Catholic upbringing or what but Danny and I never experimented with each other’s bodies. He never was interested that way. I never knew him to be interested in anything but playing Army and when he got older playing sexually with girls.

Danny had an uncle who was a War Hero from the Second World War and I really think this affected a lot of Danny's personality growing up. He had an older brother Mike Battreall who had a reputation for being tough however since he was ten years older than me, I never really knew him. By the time he got out of high school he got his girlfriend pregnant, and he married her and moved away from home. Danny and I were still in grade school.

Danny attended St. Polycarp Catholic School all through grade school, so we never really went to school together until Junior High. We were only after school friends.

About the only times I ever went to school with Danny was when he was in 8th trade, and I was in 7th at Marie L. Hare Intermediate. 'Then his folks moved away to 'Tulsa, Oklahoma  for a couple of years and came back for Danny to attend his junior year at Rancho Alamitos.

I turned 5 years old in April 1956 and in September, I started Kindergarten, and I was in  the first Kindergarten class at Bryant Elementary because it was brand new school and had just been completed. The school was in the old Alamitos School District and named for the old street name of Bryant which was later changed to Orangewood to bring uniformity to street names as Orange County began to boom. Alamitos School District was formed in 1878 and merged with the Garden Grove Unified School district and only dealt with elementary schools.

Donna and Charline both started another regional school called Wakeham an elementary school across HWY 39 on Chapman. It was located behind a market called John Carters. They attended school there until Bryant opened in the fall of 1956.

I remember on the first day of school mom walked me to Bryant . My Kindergarten teacher’s name was Mrs. Crump. I soon began to play with the other children  before realizing that Mom had gone home and left me. To me she had simply disappeared, and I felt deserted and frightened. I began to cry  but my teacher “Miss Crump” scolded me, and I settled down as I thought not to mess with her. Eventually I got used to being away from mom and my sisters would walk me to school. Kindergarten was mostly naps, graham crackers, and milk.

Not only did I begin school in 1956 but that also was the year that Garden Grove incorporated as a city, and we were included in the city. Oddly across the street and the homes to the south of Bryant Elementary were given an Anaheim address. Our house as well as the others on the east side of the street were annexed into Garden Grove and we were no longer apart of the county.

Mom and Dad took us to church in the 1950’s but only really began to remember going until about now. We were members of the Church of Christ and we drove into Brea where the only meeting was held for a no Sunday School church. I was taught that that there was no authority in the New Testament for any organization but the Church of Christ. We were taught that the father instructed the wife, and the wife instructed the children. The father was instructed by the church and the Bible.

In our home I can never remember Dad ever reading to us out of the Bible or teaching us any principles or ethical instructions. We never held family prayer or showed any sign of piety outside of going to church and saying a blessing over the food. For much of my childhood until the early 1960’s dad did bless the food at supper time. The prayer was so stylized that I can still remember the part in which dad would say, “ guide, guard, and direct us. Amen.” I can’t remember to whom dad directed his prayers, but I know Grandpa Williams always prayed to the Lord as in “Dear Lord”

 I can’t remember one bit of Church of Christ theology being taught to me as a child. We were however constantly told the true church could be recognized from its conformity to the New Testament. God was very vague to me as a child although I had the standard concept of him being a white bearded male. The older I got the more abstract God became to me.

Grandma and Grandpa Williams had moved back to 7102 Dinwiddie from Cole Street. Grandpa was still a drill press operator for the Conveyor company . Minnie was listed as a babysitter. Bonnie and Bill Fagen lived at 7104 Dinwiddie behind Grandma and Grandpa. He worked as a salesman for Butler Brothers in Lakewood.

Later that year my youngest uncle Milton Williams who used to carry me on his back for piggy back rides married Marie Buehlman  in December of 1956 in Norwalk, California.

As I recall we never had but one pet during the 1950’s when we had a little chihuahua pup named Dixie. Mom loved animals but dad never carried for pets for some reason and I really don’t remember having her very long.

The Year 1957 Ages 5-6 years old 

I turned 6 years old in April and in September I began 1st grade with Mrs. Orchard as my teacher. I do remember Mrs. Orchard teaching me to read the word “look”  by drawing two eyes in the word. The best part of first grade was actually getting to have lunch in the school cafeteria. However, I remember very little about 1^st grade  except that on the first day of school I dropped my lunch tray in the cafeteria and started to cry because I thought I wouldn’t have any lunch. But the lunch ladies were so kind they just dried my tears and gave me another tray.

I did begin to meet school friends for the first time like Loyd Davis and Jerry Smith  who had the same birthday as me. Loyd became my best friend in most of Elementary school because he was my fantasy comrade during recesses. In first grade I began to develop an artistic ability  and I became quite good as a child  but as an adult I never retained the same level of creativity.

Outside of school Breese and Robbie Beaty  were my sister Donna and my self’s playmates and they were a very corrupting influence on me as a child.

My future high school Rancho Alamitos opened its doors in 1957. Its name means ranch of the little cottonwoods and is an acknowledgement of the Hispanic heritage of this area. The forty acres of the Rancho Alamitos High School campus was part of the original Rancho Los Nietos (means grandchildren), circa 1784. Later, the land was divided among many family members into smaller Ranchos.

In the 1950’s, the Garden Grove Union High School District purchased the land from the Evans family and construction began in 1956 and was nearly complete by 1957. There were two homes on the property facing Dale Street. The homes belonged to the Evans and Miller families and were located just north of the faculty parking lot. The homes were bought and used as classrooms until construction was completed in 1959.

Rancho Alamitos first opened for grades nine through eleven on the Garden Grove High School campus during the fall of 1956. In the spring of 1957, the Rancho Alamitos campus officially opened under the direction of the first principal, Mr. Don Kennedy. The first senior class graduated in the spring of 1958 under the principalship of Mr. Richard Bivin.

In 1960, Mr. Sam Chicas was principal and was succeeded by Mr. Vic McClain (1961). Rancho’s next principal was Mr. William Zogg (1964), followed by Mr. Tracy Strong (1966) who was the principal for most of the time I attended high school

The two houses between the Beaty's and the Campbell's were also eventually occupied but I never really knew who lived there until a young man and his young wife rented the house next to the Beaty's in about 1957. They were Frank and Barbara [Freare]  Welte who had two children Frankie born 1956 and Kathy born 1957. More about them later.

My uncle R.L. finally married at the age of 33 Aunt Jerrie in South Gate, California. Grandma did not approve as that Aunt Jerry was 47 years old at the time and a divorced catholic

The Year 1958 Ages 6-7 years old 

I was in Mrs. Orchard’s 1st grade class at Bryant elementary when I turned 7 years old in April. However, in September 1958 I had Mr. Smith as my 2nd Grade Teacher. He was my first and only male teacher until Junior High. He was probably in his mid-twenties but seemed old to me  and I think he was probably Gay. He was a gentle and kind man and the only thing I remember about him is  Loyd Davis and Jerry Smith got in trouble calling Mr. Smith “Smitty” and he got mad at us and said we were being disrespectful.

In Second Grade Mom was a Cub Scout den mother for a short time of which Jerry Smith and I were once ones. However, Mom couldn’t handle it anymore and gave it up and I also stopped having anything more to do with scouting.

I only once ever remember Mom and Dad going to even a parent teacher’s conference while I was in elementary school. May be they did but I don’t remember them ever taking an active part in my schooling.

Stevie Campbell’s family moved away about 1958 when I was in the 2nd Grade and there went my first “boyfriend” even if he was a mean boyfriend. The Casas family moved in next door, and they were the only Mexican family that ever lived on our block. The father was a man named George Casas who was born in Jerez, Zacatecas, Mexico in 1913 so he really seemed old to me. However, he came to California at a young age and after marrying in 1940 his family was raised more American than Mexican. I never knew them to ever speak Spanish. His wife Sophie Gamboa was born in 1920 in New Mexico. Coincidently George Casas worked in 1942 at a Dairy on Old River School Road in Downey that was near where my Grandparent Williams was living during World War II. He enlisted in the army in 1943 after he married Sophie in 1942.

They had Rosalie Casas born 1942, George Casas Jr born 1947,  Philip Casas born 1949, Mark Casas born 1953 Jimmy Casas 1958, and Ricky Casas about 1960. I remember that at first, we were afraid of the Casas boys as they were all so mean and always fighting however usually among themselves with the older ones beating up the younger ones. I didn’t really know the oldest daughter as she was so much older than me and George Jr. was friends with the older kids in the neighborhood

I remember that George Casas Jr. was often in trouble and he and Jean Horan’s son Jim were arrested and indicted in 1970 accused of selling LSD. Jean’s daughter Carol and son in law Mike were major distributors of LSD and were often on the lam.

All in all, the Casas were good neighbors and while we were not extremely close to them, we were friendly enough to each other.

I think it was in the summer of 1958 when I was 7 that Robbie Beaty got me into trouble by teaching me to shoplift. She would take me down to the Stanton Plaza on Orangewood and Highway 39 where besides Alpha Beta there was a series of stores starting with Owls Rexall Drug Store, a meat market, some other stores and a Sprouse and Ritz Five and Dime Store. I don’t think I understood what we were doing was wrong I just followed Robbie’s lead. However, one time we were caught in the Sprouse and Ritz, I think shop lifting crayons. The store manager took us home to our parents and I cried all the way not fearing punishment as much as being ashamed that my parents would not love me. The experience so traumatized my young life that even the thought of stealing something was anathema to me and never did it again.

Year 1959 Ages 7-8 years old 

I was in 2nd Grade with Mr. Smith as my only male teacher until Junior High when I turned 8 years old in April. Mr. Smith didn’t have much effect on my life noticeably as I recall, and my one strong memory is of us all sitting on this colorful rug while he tried to teach us the difference between cotton, wool, and linen. I don’t link I really comprehended it. Why that was necessary to teach us I am not sure.

In September I started 3^rd Grade with a large woman named Mrs. Delaney. She was a huge woman and dark complected. Everyone seemed to fear her but for some reason I liked her a lot because she had a vast classroom library of books which I loved to read. Also, since my own mother was obese for all of my childhood, I think Mrs. Delaney’s appearance didn’t bother me at all.

I  developed a love of reading from Mom who took us almost weekly to various libraries, the first I remember was a small one in Stanton. I was not yet able to read but insisted I have a book to take with me and the librarian gave me a cloth picture book. Later after the Chapman Library was built next to my Junior High we would go there almost weekly.

            I was fascinated with picture books of ancient Rome and Greece because of all the simi-nude men and statues although I didn’t know exactly why. I developed a love of history at an early age from seeing men seminude in Roman baths.

After mom went to work about this time, it was expected that we siblings would have household chores. My sisters were not particularly given to the domestic skills as children growing up in my parents household. Donna was the better of the two sisters, but a blind man would have been happy to see the difference between the two.

Mom and Dad divided the housework along traditional gender lines. The girls did the inside work and I as the boy did the outside yardwork. However, I was really much better than either of the girls at cooking and keeping up the house. Charline should have been allowed to do the yardwork which I hated, and she preferred.

My endless job was to empty all the trash cans in the house and then taking the trash barrels from the back yard to the curb on trash day. I hated this job probably because it was my job. I'm reminded of' that poor fellow in Hades who after pushing a big rock up a hill saw the gods roll in back down to be pushed back up as his eternal punishment. Emptying the trash was my eternal punishment. And the worst the very worst was the trash from my sister's room. God only knew what unspeakable discards they threw in their metal trash can,  which would sit and grow and ferment and mold. To this day the pungent smell of rotting orange peels send a shiver down my spine.

Donna was the orange eater. I hated oranges. Donna loved them and what she loved even more was throwing the peelings onto the bottom of the trash can where the heat and pressure of the garbage on top  turned the peels into a fuzzy grayish green form.

It was Donna and Charline's job to clear the table and do the dishes after dinner. Dinner was usually an unimaginative event with Mom's lack of culinary skills and her general fatigue from being overweight and later on from working outside the home.

 I don't remember Dad ever actually taking any part in the preparation of dinner. It was totally my mom’s responsibility and we had to eat what Dad wanted and what dad wanted was meat and potatoes! Yuck. My childhood suppers mostly consisted of' plain mashed potatoes, fried steak or meatloaf, and some bland undistinguishable vegetable such as peas or carrots.

Donna and I always sat next to each other. She sat on my left since she was left-handed, Charline sat next to Donna facing Dad across the table. Mom faced us and sat with her back to the kitchen so she could get out easily if she had to fetch something for Dad. I sat next to Dad and thus I was the object of his scrutiny to see if I was eating everything on my plate. I hated everything on my plate, but I had to eat it all, even the broccoli!

            As if to purposely sabotage my appetite Mom placed a blue cornel glass dish containing sliced cucumbers and onions marinated in vinegar and black pepper on the table next to dad. This alone was my dad’s delight for the rest of us would not eat it and would sit aghast as we watch Dad dip his fork into the concoction and eat raw onions and cucumbers dripping with pungent smelling vinegar. I cannot open a bottle of vinegar today without the smell sending me back to my childhood supper table.

Our dinner always began with Dad saying grace, "Father Bless this food to the strength and nourishing of our bodies and guide guard and direct us in all that we do In Jesus Christ's name AMEN." Dad never varied one iota in this prayer, and he would say it slowly and deliberately as if he was creating it up in his mind for the very first time. It use to drive me nuts listening to Dad drone on over the same prayer that he had said over every meal we ate as long as I can remember. I use to silently pray that God would hurry him through it, just this once.

There was rarely any dinner conversation as I recall mostly just "Quit playing with your food and eat", "Sit in your chair right", and "Eat your vegetable". Never, "how was your day?" "What did you do in school today"? We never, to my recollection, discussed politics, religion, or current events or family problems. I believe that is why the 1950's are such a blank to me because I was isolated from the events of the world by the silence within my Parents' home.

I always knew that dinner was over by the ever-constant clue from my dad. Always at the conclusion of his meal he would belch. Down came my fork after that. Even if I had an appetite that end of the meal belch terminated anymore interest in my meal.

We had the typical 1950's dining room set of a metal table and metal chairs with gray plastic padded cushions. I think the table was gray and red if I correctly remember any ways the padded cushions became very wore after years of abuse by us kids. As they cracked over the years,  they became perfect hiding places for food left on our plates.

We came to this desperate decision to hide food in our chairs after Dad made the ultimatum that we could not get down from the table until all our dinner had been consumed. Rather than stay and watch our misery Dad would leave the table himself and then quickly came the Peas, squash, and other unspeakable vegetables off our plates into hidden crevices in our chairs.

"Mom, can we get down now?" "Have you et all your dinner?" "Yes, come see." After Mom was satisfied, we got down and the girls cleaned off the table careful to also remove the remains from the chairs.

Inevitably Donna and Charline would begin the ritual fight over who was going to wash and who was going to dry the dishes. If the fighting became too severe or if Dad was more than usually agitated, he would take the belt to the both of them. Dad did not hesitate to use the belt on us if he was upset with us. Mom didn’t like it but didn’t interfere.

In Third grade I began to open up somewhat and not be so shy but as it would happen, I was stricken with tonsillitis and appendicitis within a two-month period. I was hospitalized again,  and it took me w while to recover.

            In November I had my tonsils taken out and a few weeks later I came down with appendicitis and had my appendix removed. I had my tonsils taken out right around Thanksgiving and barely was I home when in December I had my appendix removed.

In the 1950’s it was pretty well standard practice to have tonsils removed for any throat infection in children. All I remember about it was I was given 7-Up soda and ice cream for a very sore throat.

            I remember coming home from school sometime after that with a severe stomach ache and mom took me to our family doctor, Dr. DeLille. He diagnosed that I had appendicitis and off to the hospital I went again where I had another operation. I was in a children’s ward with several other children who were in for a variety of reasons. I only remember that They used metal clamps to close the wound and I had a purple scar on my lower abdomen for years and years before it faded to pink and eventually hardly was noticeable.

I am positive that that those two operations affected my metabolism  as that before this time I was a very active skinny  child and afterwards  I became inactive and inclined to get heavy and tow my mortification started to have to wear “husky” jeans which the label they but o pants for fat kids. I have been inclined to be overweight for the weight of my life  except for a  brief time in 7^th and 8^th grades  probably because I had to walk at least a mile every day to school.

            Anyway, after third grade I became withdrawn and physically inactive and hated playing any type of sport. Instead, I strengthened my artist talents and withdrew more and more into a fantasy world of my own. I began to realize I was different from other boys, kind of a “sissy” and I disliked  any type of sport and shunned them in every incident. I hated especially running and playing baseball because I could not throw a ball.

            Once dad too me into the back yard, probably at mom’s prompting and tried to teach me to play catch and throw. He was so frustrated with me and said I wasn’t even trying. It was then I was learning what a disappointment I was to my father that I wasn’t going to be athletic. At the time I should have been strengthen athletic skills and abilities I disposed of them all together  and concentrated on reading and drawing. Being a non-athlete  plagues me for the rest of my public-school life.

The 1960’s Welcome to the Sixties

My Adolescence

 The Year 1960 ages 8 and 9 years old 

I was still in third grade at Bryant elementary school with Mrs. Delaney as my teacher when I turned 9 years old in April. In September I started 4th grade at Bryant elementary with Miss Ruth V. Righter [1901-1987] as my teacher. She loved doing art in class and I was kind of her pet because I was artistic, and she took an interest in me and taught me some techniques. Actually, being a “sissy boy,” I was fond of older women and not a ruffian like many of the other boys.

            I was the best artist in her class and Loyd Davis was my best friend. We played after school a lot on the playground but very little at his house on Poes Street. I don’t think his dad want him bringing kids to the house. We didn’t play normal games but had fantasy games like walking across the swings pretending there was hot lava below us. We played pretend a lot.

I didn’t have the usual fights and wrestling matches that most of the boys on mu block had  as fighting never interested me. I never wanted to hurt anyone or be hurt myself. I was very conscious at an early age at how tender people’s feelings are.

            Once while playing tether ball after school with Loyd Davis this bully older kid came over and wanted us to leave. I stood up to him and said we were here first, and he started hitting me. I didn’t fight back but felt humiliated to have been beat up in front of my friend and I left and cried all the way home.

One of the highlights of 4^th grade was when we had an earthquake that shook the school, and we had several aftershocks. I remember the overhead lights swinging back and forth and we were evacuated into the school yard. As that aftershocks continued, we were all just sent home early. Back in those days most kids had a mother at home.

I remember once when Charline was in the 8th grade [ 1960] she wanted to make some popcorn balls. The recipe called for 4 cups of popped popcorn, but Charline thought it said 4 cups of Popcorn and had five huge pots on the stove popping popcorn. After the corn started to pop it finally occurred to her that something was wrong but by now it was too late. Yelling for Donna and me to come to the kitchen, we saw her shaking five different overflowing pots filled with popcorn. Grabbing bowls from every cupboard we managed to fill them all with popcorn. We had popcorn everywhere. On the floor, in pots and bowls,  just all over the kitchen. This was typical of Charline's cooking attempts.

The Year 1961 ages 9 and 10 years old

We all thought 1961 was a cool year because you could flip the date over and it would still be 1961I was in 4th grade with Mrs. Righter as my elementary school teacher when I turned 10 years old in April. I entered 5th grade in September with Mrs. O’Reilly as my teacher. She was quite a bit younger than Mrs. Richter probably in her early 30’s if not younger and unfortunately, I did not have any of my friends like Jerry Smith or Loyd Davis in my class. Most of the kids in her class I never really knew.

            Mrs. O’Reilly often wore a skirt and a tight white blouse, and he was my first view of the “opposite sex.”  Up until this time my friends and I were too young, or the teachers were too old  for us to even think of them as such. I was veery fat in 5^th grade and the Irish Mrs. O’Reilly  was a sports nut and she would make us go outside constantly to play soft ball or run around the field. She was probably trying to burn off our energies, but I hated it because I was teased for being a lousy player and always coming in last when running.

            Once I remember her calling up the kids one by one and accusing us of cheating on our spelling tests that she allowed us to self-correct. I don’t think I purposely would have done that but none the less I was humiliated by being censored by the first time by a teacher.

In the early sixties Dad installed a dishwasher and Charline and Donna would then fight over who was going to load and unload the dishes.

I really don't remember when I started to experiment in the kitchen, but I think it was after the third grade when Mom went back to work for good. I had a sweet tooth that was rarely satisfied, and Mom and Dad never had extra money for snacks, so we had to make our own. I was making cookies from scratch and cakes from box mixes at an early age because I craved sweets, but my sisters would never bake for me. In fact, they rarely cooked at all that I can remember and usually when they did it didn't turn out. Donna and Charline eventually went on to become good cooks, but I don't think they had the interest in it as I did.

It wasn't until the early sixties [1962] that we finally got to start eating in a typical California style. Mom's best friend Jean Horan finally convinced Mom to grind her left over pot roast into taco meat filling and we began to eat Tacos. Jean also introduced us to burritos made from refried beans and ground hamburger meat and Ortega chiles. I also think that mom and Dad's friendship with Frank and Barb Welte had a lot with changing our style of eating. They introduced  us to pizza and spaghetti and other new delights. Thus changed our eating habits from the bland fifties to the exciting sixties.

In the 1960' s as mom and dad began to make a little more money, we began to eat out more. We would go to this pizza joint on Beach Blvd called “Me and Ed's Pizza,” and order two large Pepperoni and Mushroom Pizzas. I really enjoyed these times. Dad seemed more relaxed and less uptight. Probably the pitcher of beer he was  drinking didn't hurt either. But it was fun being with my family listening to the jukebox and eating pizza.

Often on Friday nights Mom and Dad use to take us to the Drive-in movies usually at the Highway 39 Drive-in near Trask and Beach Blvd. These were fun times too especially before the show would begin and we would go up to the playground at the front of the screen. We'd play there until the show would begin and we' d find our way back to the car and sit in the back seat peering over Mom and Dad’s shoulders. They would usually buy us treats at the snack bar or would bring some along in the car. Back then all the shows had cartoon features before the movie and that usually was my favorite part. I remember seeing "North to Alaska” with John Wayne and Stewart Granger with my folks at the Drive-In. I remember laughing and having a good time. This feeling has always made that movie special to me because of seeing my parents so happy then. I seldom saw my parents really enjoying each other's company so this special to me.

            Grandma and Grandpa Williams moved from Dinwiddie back to 8277 Cole Street still working as a Press operator for Conveyors.

The Year 1962 Ages 10 and 11 years old 

I was in 5th grade and had  Mrs. O’Reilly as my teacher when I turned 11 years old in April. She was  the youngest teacher I had to that time as she was probably in her late 20’s or early 30’s. She often wore tight skirts with sweater blouses that was fashionable at the time which accented her figure. It was in 5^th grade that I actually noticed my teachers as being people. Mrs. Riley was not interested in art, was very sports minded making us run all the time and play softball which I learned to hate. I also didn’t have any of my long time friends like Loyd Davis or Jerry Smith in my class and I remember being bullied and teased a lot by other boys in the class. I don’t think Mrs. Reilly particularly liked me if she gave me any thought at all.

During Summer vacation the family went back to Texas to see Grandma and Grandpa Johnson in a camper shell that dad had built from scratch. It was the first time we returned to Texas since the mid 1950’s.

            I remember later back in California while I was playing a pretend game in Jerry Smith’s backyard, I heard the news that Marilyn Monroe having died on August 4^th. Her death really hit me hard because it was the first time that someone who was larger than life had died. It kind of shook me up that someone that famous could die.

I started 6th grade at Bryant Elementary School in September. Mrs. Vanderpool was my teacher and she became my favorite elementary school teacher. She was a tall woman and stout and had been a former police woman. She made up for Mrs. O’Reilly as that all of my childhood friends were in her class.

I remember distinctly how all the adults were worried about the Cuban Crisis in October when there was a possibility of a nuclear war between the Soviet Union and the United States. We had  nuclear war drills where we were told to hide below our school desks. The threat of war hung over us from October to November and I remember adults talking about bomb shelters and knew we didn’t have one. 

Frank and Barb Welte had moved to Fullerton probably in 1962 where they bought a new home. When they had lived on Dale Street, they became Mom and Dad’s best friends although they were at least 10 years younger. I think they actually had a surprise birthday party for me when I was eight as I remember being in their house and they told me to go down the hall and there was a birthday cake for me.

Mom and Dad went fishing in the Pacific Ocean with Frank and Barb and we took several camping trips with them. Dad actually for a short period after quitting the Conveyor Company became partners with Frank in an Appliance Repair Business. It didn’t last as that dad was too insecure to be his own businessman. However, Dad and Frank were drinking buddies and I think Frank allowed dad to have a bit of youthful freedom as he was in his late thirties. 

When Frank poured a concrete patio in their back yard, Dad prepared to build one in our back yard and laid down the gravel and frame, but he never got around to putting in the cement. I am not sure why. It may have been he ran out of money, or he lost interest in it after the Weltes moved away.

Dad’s next big project was building a camper shell to fit over the cab of the Ford Truck and in the bed. Dad built the entire thing which had a refrigerator, sink, a bed for us kids over the cab, and a bed for Mom and dad that went over the dinner table. It really was kind of remarkable that he had that skill. I know we took a trip back to Texas in 1962 in the camper.