Page 7 - MY STORY

HOW DID IT BEGIN?

During my childhood in the 1930’s my dad was a Yellow

Cab driver in Chicago who worked the midnight shift
from late afternoon to the morning of the next day. Dad

seemed to have a bent for things mechanical, but with no
formal training of any sort. I do not believe he completed
high school. Mom was high school educated, trained as a
bookkeeper, and worked at a floral shop on Michigan

Avenue. Mom was the family disciplinarian, and also the
one that made sure I did homework, practiced piano, and

whacked me when necessary. Keep in mind this was
during the great depression, and both parents had to work
to keep a roof over our heads. As a kid that reality of

being poor never took hold. My life was going to school,
eating lunch at the local Woolworths (or home if dad was
off work), playing baseball, roller skating, games with my

friends, going to piano lessons weekly, doing homework
and listening to wild adventures on the radio after dinner.
All this happened in a 1-1/2 room apartment on N.

Kenmore Avenue.

I think what started off my interest in things mechanical

was watching dad working on our jalopy in the lot next to
our apartment, and handing him tools as requested. That