Pine Tree Road

We were taken to a farm on Pine Tree Road to live with a couple named Gaylord and Ellen W. The social worker dropped my brother and me off, along our belongings, and drove away. There we stood; my brother on one side of Mrs. W., me on the other bawling like babies. The woman who just left was a stranger, but she was more familiar to us than the people we were about to live with.

We settled our stuff in the house. We didn’t have much, just clothing. We were given the oldest son’s bedroom to sleep in. His name was Gale. His room was right out of Boy’s Life magazine. He had a collection of Straight Arrow cards that came in those boxes of Shredded Wheat and were used as dividers between the layers of the cereal biscuits. They had four boys, Gale, Terry, Jon and Hal. The three oldest boys were good to us, but I never liked Hal. He was a spoiled brat. Gale was a lot like my oldest brother, and he taught me how to played football. Terry had to endure his mother’s piano lessons. He would get frustrated, and she would get mad at him. A few years after we left there, he died on a hunting trip out West. Jon was my age, and we did a lot of things together. We became good friends.

After we went to bed that night, Mr. & Mrs. W. came up to say goodnight to us. We weren’t used to that.

Tomorrow we would start our first day on a farm. Morning comes early on a farm, especially for my brother and me because we had a lot of exploring to do. There were chickens to chase, hen’s nest to find so we could collect the eggs. They had a big fat pig kept in a pig pen; we’d never seen one before. For breakfast there was always fresh whole milk which tasted better than store-bought milk. We had French toast that morning with fresh churned butter and lots of sugar on it. While here we were to experience some of the happenings on a farm. We were amaze at how far a chicken could run after having its head chopped off. We found out that milking a cow was harder than we though. Besides, they were too darn big for me to shove around. We learned how to make corn cob darts by shoving a couple of chicken feathers in the end of the cob. We would throw these in the air and just watch them go.

I was a bed wetter. I don’t remember ever doing that at home; but every time I stayed someplace else, it happened. They say the problem is physical and very seldom physiological, but in those days they thought the kid was just plain lazy. Mrs. W. used to bribe me by saying that if I just stopped she would buy me something. I never got that "Something." I was given something else, the worse spanking I ever had in my life. I woke up that morning wet and scared. I knew what was coming. I got up and threw the sheet and blanket back over the bed to hide the wet spot, and then I went outside to play. I only went back in the house to eat breakfast and then back outside. I thought maybe she didn’t find out. That wasn’t true; she found the wet sheets and called me into the house and into the bathroom where the spanking took place. I had to take off all my clothes which made the spanking even worse. She used a leather belt. I kept yelling "No Mrs. W., No Mrs. W." but she kept hitting me. Afterward I was sore and humiliated.

We started school that fall, but I don’t remember much about it other than we rode the bus. We were given brand new lunch pails. We were used to lunch sacks. There was a tray on the top that held a peanut butter and strawberry jam sandwich (my favorite); and when we lifted the tray out, there might be fruit or a desert.

They were religious people, so we had to get used to going to church. My folks never took us to one. Winter finally arrived and we went skating for the first time in our lives. they found us some skates that their boys had grown out of. We learned to stay away from the weeds sticking out of the ice. If we didn’t, we were going down in a heap.

Christmas was coming, and we were looking forward to it. The Christmas tree was put up in the dining room, but I don’t remember helping with the decorations. Mr. and Mrs. W. probably did it themselves.

My parents and with my oldest brother came to see us just before Christmas. We were very happy to see them. They brought us their presents as well as some from our grandparents, and we put them under the tree for Christmas morning. My oldest brother and Gale played ping pong on the dining room table; it was set up just like a regular ping pong table with a net. We enjoyed seeing our parents again very much, and it was a bonus to see our oldest brother.

It was Christmas Eve; and when we were at home, we always had opened our presents at night. Sometimes we knew what we were getting because my oldest brother was very good at finding the hidden presents weeks ahead of time.

This Christmas was going to be different because we would have to wait until morning to open our presents. It was a very long night. It was so hard to get to sleep and stay asleep until morning. We eventually dozed off, and morning came. My youngest brother was up before me and went downstairs to peek through the slightly open stair door at the tree. He wanted to know if Santa had been here.

What he saw, and he still says it to this day, was that Mrs. W. had taken a present meant for us and put her boys' names on it. When we opened our presents that morning, we found a chalk board and crayon set from our grandparents. We got a bottle of Royal Crown Cola with a pair of homemade mittens from their grandma. We were jealous because the other boys got a one dollar bill with their Cola. We also got a belt kit that you had to interlock the pieces until you made the belt the length you wanted. My brother and I got a western gun and holster set. He always got two guns and holsters because he was left handed, and I always got one.

It came time for the other boys to open the gift with the switched name tags. It was an electric train.

We found out after Christmas that we would be going home. We couldn’t wait. We packed up all of our things that were going home with us. Mrs. W. kept some brand new clothes bought for my brother and me by the County. She also kept one of my brother’s cap guns because she said he broke one of Hal’s guns.

The woman from Social Services came to pick us up and take us home. We didn’t know where home was. We said our good-byes to the W. family; and although we had some bad memories while living there, we had many more good ones. This woman who always came to take us from place to place was starting to seem more like a friend.

We first stopped off at the Children’s Home somewhere in Lansing. I don’t remember why. The matron told us to take off our goulashes. My brother looked at me, and I looked at him. We didn’t know what she was talking about. The woman from Social Services told us "Take off your boots, boys". She was not only our friend, but she talked our language.

We were soon on the road and going to live with our parents again in our new home. The six of us would be going home two at a time. My brother and I would be the first ones to rejoin our parents.

Next week: Park Lake

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