Page 19 - Gary's Book - Final Copy 7.9.2017_Active

us a story. Instead, she tended to us. She gave us Castor oil regularly and bathed us
continuously. Somehow, I don’t know how, but all of us kids got “worms” – you
know, those little white ones that look like maggots. Every night it was a ritual that
we would get on the bed, stick our butts into the air, and Mom would pick them out

of our rectums. I remember how much they itched.
Living on a policeman’s income, our family of seven had a difficult time paying
the bills. We never had any soda, candy, gum or fruit unless we stole it from the

corner confectionary, which I did. I never had any decent dental work either.
Unfortunately, I’ve had to pay for it all my life by needing crowns, root canals,
bridges, and partials. I have figured that if I had not had these dental expenses, then
I could have purchased a brand-new car.

We had no school supplies or new clothes either. I never had a football, a baseball,

a bat or a glove. I bought my first bike after my own kids got one, so I could ride
with them. Now and then we would get a box of used clothing and shoes dropped
off at our house. I don’t know who left them there. I always needed shoes, but I
usually got the holey ones, so I placed cardboard inside. Doug and I wore these
“knicker” pants like George Washington wore; no one else in our school had them,

so I always felt like a total misfit.

I decided one school year that I needed an art gum eraser, so I stole one from S. S.
Kresge. One night I placed my pants over the chair, and it fell out of the pocket. I
thought I was going to black out from the beating that I got from Dad. That was a
zinger! I remember that I was so beaten that I didn’t even know where I was.

If I got into a fight at school or if a guy chased me home after school (I only lived
one city block from school) and beat me up on my front porch and I lost the fight
and my Dad saw it, he would give me a beating. To this day, I have a high
tolerance for forgiving, but when I have met my threshold, I have limited

boundaries. Once I had a kid persistently teasing me in the school yard during
recess. He tripped me, hit me and pushed me. One day we were playing dodge ball,
and as I was running, he tripped me. I fell next to the building where there was a
bottom of a broken glass milk bottle. I picked it up and sailed it at him hitting him
on his forehead, and he really bled. I got kicked out of school, but one thing’s for

sure, that kid never bothered me again.

14