This is sort of a grab bag of memories, none of which is quite substantial enough for its own post.

I remember being perfectly happy living on the farm.

Well, most of the time, that is.

One of the meadows where the cows grazed during the day was surrounded by barbed wire, but I guess in an effort to modernize, my grandfather electrified the barbed wire fence. At first I was fascinated by the controls, which were located in the shed next to the barn.

This photo looks pretty much like the controller that I recall except the box was blue.

But that all changed one day when I must have forgot about the electrification and happened to back into the live barbed wire.

You could probably hear my scream clear over into the next county. 

Of course, there wasn’t enough current to do any harm, but I can still feel that jolt as it went through me, and I’ve had a genuine respect and a bit of fear of electricity ever since.

I remember telling my grandfather that I didn’t think he needed the electrified fence, that the barbed wire was enough, but he didn’t pay me no mind.

Other than that I did enjoy my time on the farm.

But I believe my mother had other ideas. I can’t say for certain, but I think the decision to move from the farm must have come from her, as I suspect that left to his own devices my father would have been content to work for his father and stay on the farm.

In any case, sometime when I was in second grade my mother started going to beautician’s school in Reading. I think she got the idea from Betts Fortna who ran a beauty shop out of her home in Lebanon, PA. For the complicated relationship of Betts Fortna to us, check out Betts and Barney–A Detective Story.

Many years later my mother told us that she decided she wanted to be a beautician so that she could work from home so she could look after my sister and me. I assume that she and my father had decided to move from the farm into Richland at some point when I was in second grade.

But as she was going to beautician’s school in Reading, that meant that she could no longer take me to school in Womelsdorf, so she would drop me off early in the morning at her aunt Ruby’s house in Womelsdorf. I assume that my grandmother was taking care of my sister.

Anyway, this meant that Ruby’s sons, the fraternal twins Joel and George, who were in seventh grade at the time, had the distinct pleasure of walking their seven year old cousin (once removed) to school every morning. I’m sure they were thrilled.

About the only thing I remember from that period was the twins (everyone always referred to Joel and George as “the twins”) would play some 45 rpm records while we were waiting to go to school. In particular I recall them playing “The Yellow Rose of Texas” by Mitch Miller. Did you know that that had been a number one hit record in the mid 50s? My how times have changed.

I don’t know how long I was going to Ruby and the twins before school, maybe a month or so.

I think my father had already quit working on the farm and gotten a job at John Zug’s Feed Mill in Richland. It’s safe to say there was probably some tension on the farm by this time. In fact, many years later my mother told me that my father’s brother Curtis had had some words with my parents; something to the effect the if my father left the farm, he was essentially cutting all ties with the family. But I think he was just talking for himself, because I don’t think there were ever hard feelings between my father and his parents. And in any event, Curtis must have calmed down rather quickly once we moved away because he was giving me piano lessons a few months later. Or perhaps my mother exaggerated.

There must have been some tension going on because by May of that year, 1957, we moved to a rented house in Womelsdorf. I think we only moved there, rather than directly to Richland, so that I could finish second grade. Given the hassles involved in moving, especially with two small children involved, my parents must have had some strong motivation to move to that rented house in Womelsdorf for only six weeks or so. I wish I had thought to ask them about it in later years.

I remember when we went to look at the house, my aunt and uncle Jane and Allen went along with us. The house was across the street from the house where Jane’s mother still lived (was that where Jane had been raised? I think she grew up in Womelsdorf, if I recall correctly), so it may have been Jane who found the place for my parents. The house was old and was definitely not in the best of shape.

As we walked through the house and noticed the peeling wallpaper and other signs of poor upkeep, Jane kept repeating, “This can be made livable.” 

Livable or not, we moved in.

And I was thrilled. The house was much smaller than the Great Stone House on the farm, and the furniture so filled the living room that there was practically no room to turn around. Also, it had no playroom. But still I was thrilled.

There was only a month or so left in the school term, but I could finally walk to and from school by myself. And I could finally have school chums come over after school, something that I could never do while living on the farm.

But in the event, it didn’t work out like I had hoped.

One time I brought a couple school friends home. I’m going to refer to them as Stan and Ollie.

Anyway, we got back to my house and went to the backyard, but seemingly before we could do anything, Ollie made some excuse and said he had to go home. 

I was disappointed, to say the least.

I turned to Stan and asked him why Ollie had left so abruptly.

And I can still see Stan sigh, wordlessly tilt his head, and indicate that I look behind him.

Have you ever watched a movie where it looks like there is a conversation going on just between two people, and then after a few minutes the camera pulls back and you realize there’s been a third person there the entire time?

Because standing behind Stan was Stan’s older brother. And I guess he must have been with us the whole time but I seemingly did not realize it.

Now Stan’s older brother was, how shall I put this? He was not retarded, as he attended a regular class, but he was somehow, well, I guess the word is slow. And I think he was something of an albatross around Stan’s neck that Stan was somehow resigned to.

I have no memory of what happened next, but I rather suspect that Stan and his brother did not hang around much longer. Of if they did, I just don’t remember it.

And that was the only time I brought anyone home from school.

We didn’t stay in Womelsdorf very long. Once school ended, we moved to Richland, in the apartment that Lynn and Isobel Klopp kept on the second floor of their house. I don’t know if it had always been the plan to move twice in such a short time as I know how difficult moving is, especially with two young children.

It was now June of 1957, and my parents began looking for a suitable house where my mother could set up a beauty shop.