Dad's Stories: Here is a recollection dad wrote in 2014

 Here is the text from an email dad wrote in 2014.

"My my, how time does fly.  I encourage all of you to enjoy every minute of every day.  This photo of me, lifted from the old family portrait, was taken in 1942, I was in the first grade in Fort Worth, TX.  My daddy was assigned to the ROTC division of Pascal High School.  We had no automobile and walked or took the bus to our various destinations.  WWII, was going full blast.  My dad was exempted from going over seas due to his age and having three children.  Looking at the photo of my family, makes me rather sorrowful, because they're all gone, but me.  Being the official "accident prone" kid of the family, it's a wonder I survived childhood.  In our neighborhood there were kids running all over the place and when putting together "kid events," it was easy to get eight or so kids involved in any activity or competition, such as, "king of the mountain or chase." 

 

One favorite story of mine is hitting an older boy, who was teasing me, with a rock as he was fleeing at top speed.  I was rather famous or infamous in the neighborhood for my rock throwing accuracy. This particular time an older kid was giving me a hard time (much to big fight), so I picked up a rock...where upon he took off like Jesse Ownes running to the tape.  I threw the rock and watched it curve slightly and then smack him right between the shoulder blades.  Instead of going down, he spun around and charged at me (bigger rock?)...discretion being the better part of valor, I hightailed it for the security of my home.  I climbed up a small flight of stairs and rushed into the kitchen with my attacker hot on my heels. 

 

Mom and dad were preparing supper as I charged into the kitchen and past my dad yelling, "He's trying to hurt me!"  Daddy spun around to the kitchen door just in time to grab the invader and asked, "What are you doing crashing in here like that?"  He whined, "He hit me with a rock!"  Daddy hustled him back outside and told him to go home, which he did.  After explaining that the rascal was teasing me, so I bopped him with a rock,  Daddy decided it was sort of funny...so I didn't get punished.  My mother didn't say a word, but I'm sure she was glad that daddy Bill was home to deal with the situation.  Here's an addendum, there have been times when throwing the football as a high school quarterback, I visualized popping that kid with a rock - distance, trajectory and velocity...it was all the same.  

 

What a beautiful throw and he must have been close to twenty feet away from me and running for dear life.  The "pep squad,"  if they'd been there, would have gone nuts. The "teaser" never bothered me again, and I heard no more about incident.  In my neighborhood, all I had to say was, "I'm getting a rock," and within seconds there wouldn't be a kid in sight.  He's the only person I remember actually hitting with a rock or clod, but still one didn't gamble with fate and a good arm.  Love, Pop"

Also included were these photos: