Wednesday, July 10, 2019
Saturday, April 7, 2018
Wednesday, September 28, 2016
Calling All Spirits: "The Ouija" a continuation from Part 2: My Childhood Neighbor Hood.
"We may be finished with the past, but the past is never finished with us."
"Good Luck."
Lol, wow, a bit eerie, and intriguing as this expression of 'Wish' could go either way depending on the actual outcome.
Well, I personally have had several Ouija's in my time. The first one back in 1970 as I coaxed my mother into letting me buy a talking board. After all it was a "game" right? And it was sold in the game aisle, in the toy department.
A game for entertainment/fun? Hmmmmm....Or.....a tool of the devil???? Or......could it be a "link" between the known & unknown.
No matter. Once again curiosity peaked for this "Mystifying Oracle" and the inquisitiveness was too attractive to resist.
So my mother allowed me to buy it, thinking too, that it was just a "harmless" game to keep me occupied.
Now that I had this mysterious oracle I needed an accomplice and I knew just who: my cousin Juney.
She agreed as she was just as curious and fascinated with the "Supernatural." And so began our obsession-sessions with the Ouija that would later predict a dire outcome; a terrible tragedy here in our city, the same year I bought my spirit board.
In the Summer of 1970 and usually after school we talked with the Ouija on a regular basis. After some time the board seemed to respond immediately and eager, as we were to commute with it.
Now our Mayor at the time was "Max" Murningham whose daughter was a sophomore at one of the high schools here in Lansing. She was 16, working at a local jewelry store with the owner/manager, an elderly woman.
It was almost closing time, and her older brother would be there soon to pick her up. Suddenly a man walked in with a gun and demanded money. The older woman refused, so he struck her on the head with the gun and when he did it went off!
Thinking he killed the woman he then abducted Miss Murningham.
Well of course our city was in shock, devasted, and now afraid. How could something like this happen in our "quaint little Hamlet???" Although everybody was optimistic that she would be found, "unharmed."
While the city was hopeful and waiting, I became more and more curious wanting to "know" what the mystic oracle thought. Time to round up Juney and ask Ouija. We went into her basement, lights on, placed the board on our laps; fingers on the mystic hand, the (planchette), and questioned if "IT" knew the whereabouts of the Mayor's daughter, or what had happened to her.
Slowly it began to glide smoothly and spelled: M-U-R-D-E-R. Juney & I both gasped and looked at one another in disbelief! "No way" we said out loud! Then Ouija responded and move to "YES."
Whatever...we left disappointed, puzzled, but still curious. Could the spirit board "foretell" the future? Or any event for that matter.
Nevertheless like most of the city we all waited in silent. A few days passed, then it was a week before the Mayor's daughter was found, but sadly, she had indeed been MURDERED!
After that my cousin & I had decided that we should put the board to rest. I don't know if it was out of Fear because the dire omen became true; or maybe it was just Fear not understanding how it could surmise such an ominous outcome. Could It Be Evil???
So away we went to Juney's basement to conclude our last session with the Spirit board; to bid "IT, GOODBYE."
As we spoke to it trying to make our intentions clear to stop communicating with it, the planchette kept gliding to, "NO, NO" over and over. This went on for a few minutes...then it started going in circles faster and faster. Suddenly for no reason at all it stopped! We looked at each other scared and baffled.
We spoke to it. It would NOT answer. We tried to force the mystic hand to move...it wouldn't even budge!
It felt as if we were pushing, going against some magnetic field; akin to forcing two magnets together to touch.
Immediately the basement became very ominous...very quite...very still... then "We" became very aware...very afraid...
Then unexpectedly, without warning, the plastic circle, the eye of the planchette POPPED OFF!!!
Juney screamed, I yelled, and we both ran up the stairs, outside, leaving the board there on the bed in her basement.
Never again did we use that board!
"For such an iconic thing that strikes both fear & wonder in American Culture, how can no one know where it came from?"
Factoid: In 1891 patent was granted to Elijah Bond.
Kennard Novelty were first producers of these Spirit Boards, back in the 19th century.
The following year the rights to Ouija were purchased to William Fuld, who started marketing it.
Then in 1966 The Parker Bros., purchased the rights to the Ouija.
None were spiritualists really...just "keen" businessmen.
**Most people feel that these 'Spirit Boards' are authentic; are dangerous because malevolent spirits can be contacted, opening evil portals.
"Ominous shadows the trees have cast; silhouettes without voice, without mask.
And yet they bespeak whispers, moans, in soothing serpentine tones." ~Lucas J. Salazar
"The Bench In The Woods." 2014
And so it may be.
~Lucas J. L. Salazar.
Thursday, September 15, 2016
My Childhood Neighborhood: The 1960's Part 2
"You can run from the disappointments your
trying to forget; but it's only when you em-
brace your past that you truly move forward."
"TRASHIES"
Now when I was young, fruit seem to be growing everywhere in neighborhoods, and that was a good thing....something to munch on before dinner, or after.
Not only that...IT WAS GREAT! Green apple, cherry, peaches,and blackberry trees; and rhubarb, (that we would douse with salt), just waiting for the pick'in!
And---one in particular cherry tree(s), belonging to a woman we fictitiously named, "Trashie."
She had the best cherry trees in town! So good! So ripe, so juicy and so big!!!
She must have had at least a dozen of those red ruby trees, just behind my backyard and to the east. But... she was very, very protective of them.
So, we had to "Raid" Trashie's little orchard under her protest every time. It was exciting, stressful and brazen!
For this "brazen attack raid" I would call out my cohorts, my cousins of course and a couple of friends, to gather at the large parking lot, that incidentally was on the same block I lived on.
This parking area was divided and made into two very large lots; one belonging to the VFW and the other, a large church that was actually fused to another.
Now Trashie's cherry trees were right next to these lots as was her house, and from my backyard just "kitty corner" to her backyard, I could see her trees.
But when we would "attack from that direction she had a bigger, better view of us entering her territory so......
To make this a successful invasion we had to attacked from the parking lot because for one, there were cars in the lot making it less conspicuous as we could hide between and behind cars.
So we put our plan to work and we went on our clandestine heist. Our mission was to ransack and conquer; then to and enjoy the spoils of our brazen pillage, the RIPE and RED cherry trees!
As we got closer we all took heed and watched very carefully at her back porch window. This is where she would spy us out. So stealthily and frantically we went into her orchard of the edible red rubies... a pirates treasure indeed!
Two of us were usually were assigned to climb the trees, pinch off branches and drop them down for the others to collect.
The operation would go smoothly for 5 minutes or so, THEN..."YOU KIDS GET OUT OF MY TREES OR ELSE I'M GONNA CALL THE POLICE!!!
We would usually ignore her for a couple of minutes, as we were wildly trying to get as much as we could before she actually came out or threaten us with her "so called gun as well.
THEN when she DID come OUT, we would jump outta the trees, running and laughing, and dragging along branches of our sweet bounty!
We ran until we found a safe place well hidden away from anyone else because we knew our parents would be angry if they found out we were stealing Trashie's cherries.
Nevertheless, it was well worth the risk to savor the juicy, dark red cherries. A perfect afternoon snack! Rich and sweet with such a invoking favor. HMMMMMMM!!!.....and to paraphrase Greek mythology: "Food fit for the gods!"
AND TRASHIE'S CHERRIES WERE!!!
No synthetics, transgenic, GMO's. Just home grown from the
USA!
And that's the truth! PPPPHHH!
And so it was.
~LJLS
Next of part 2: "The Ouija Board"
Friday, October 16, 2015
Happy Halloween 2015: A Haunting Aura
Halloween is almost upon us. A season that brings on fears, phobias, superstitions.
Amid the falling leaves & colorful landscape is a 'haunting aura'; longer nights...chill in the air, And-- SCARES!!!
Halloween is one of the oldest holidays; October 31, the last day of the Celtic calendar.
It was referred to as 'All Hallows Eve' and dates back to over 2000 years ago; a Pagan holiday honoring the dead.
The Celts believed the souls of the dead roamed the streets and villages at night. Since not all spirits were thought to be friendly, gifts & treats were left out to pacify the evil and ensure next years crops would be plentiful.
Halloween also was thought to be a night when evil and mischievous spirits roam freely. So the mask and the costumes were worn to either scare away the ghosts or to keep from being recognized.
And as for the "trick" custom of Halloween, this was because ghosts and witches created mischief on this certain night. So, if the living did not provide some sort of "treat" for these spirits, the spirits would then "trick" the living.
Eventually this custom evolved into and was embraced throughout other cultures with costumes, trick-treating, ghost stories, and commemorating the dead.
So let the myths & tales run rampant. It gives us a fright night that we relish & fear every year on "HALLOWEEN."
PAST...
...PRESENT
...No matter.
JUST SCREAMMMMM!!!! IT'S HALLOWEEN!!! 2015
Tuesday, September 1, 2015
My Childhood Neighborhood; The 1960's. Part 1
"If you carry your childhood with you, you never become older." ~Tom Stoppard.
"When you finally go back to your old
home, you find it wasn't the old home
you missed but your childhood." ~Sam Ewing.
"Childhood is a short season, but it is the most beautiful of all life's seasons."
I remember when I was a kid and someone would say: "I'M GONNA TELL YOUR MOM!" was the scariest sentence ever!
Hell...I'd go run and hide! Either under the bed, in a closet, the basement. Or if I was outside I would climb up a tree and wait... Hoping, (they) wouldn't tell on me so I could continue playing outside in my neighborhood.
It was because I loved my neighborhood I spent so much time outside.
In some ways our lives are akin to a novel.
Like a novel the characters, family, friends, the people; each played a significant role in our lives, no matter how important or how minute, or petite.
Like most of us, I was very fond of my friends. Let it be family, or neighbors; there's just something about childhood friends you just can't replace.
So let me begin to describe my community, and the inhabitants of our quaint "Little Hamlet," (as it was), in Lansing, Michigan.
I'll start with the picture. Of course that would be me standing in front of my grandmother's house on Ballard Street, the North side of Lansing.
Ballard Street was long and extended, even further as it crosses one of the main streets here in Lansing, N. Grand River Street.
Ballard also had a smaller street, a side street, E. North Street that connected to it. My mom, my dad, and at the time two younger siblings lived there.
The house they occupied was at the end of Ballard and if it wasn't for the Stop Sign any car would run right into their driveway, or house; which did happen but not to their home.
Also it was not far from grandmother's; and at the time I lived with grandmother; for most of my childhood anyways.
Now back to the picture. Notice in the photo that there are two houses on the other side of the street.
Both with a steep steps and yards.
Well in second house from the left a man & a woman, African Americans' lived there.
I don't recall the woman's name, but her husband, or maybe it was her brother, anyways his name was "Sammy," but we called him "Drunk Sammy.
Now Sammy I believed he was either retired or disabled. Although he didn't seem handicapped, just drunk most of the time. And I don't mean a little drunk...he was trashed! And every day it seemed.
What was funny about Sammy was, that when he had his fill or outta money, he would walk home from the local bar, as it was close, off of N. Grand River.
Sammy would come strolling down the street talking to himself, laughing or just trying to keep his bearings. When we would see him we would say, "Here comes 'drunk Sammy', and laugh.
Finally when he made it home, it was time for him to walk up ALL those steeps steps..and for some one who was liquored up, that was quite a mount.
He knew of course that wasn't going to happen. At one point I'm sure, he discerned that he would get hurt, as he probably did from previous attempts.
And so he made it a habit to "take on the steep yard challenge." At least if he fell, it wouldn't be that painful.
So there went Drunk Sammy trying his best to walk up the slope. Unfortunately he would get almost to the top and THEN....BAM! There he went rolling all the way down onto the sidewalk! Lol.
He looked around like a man who just got the rug pulled out from under him; he'd cuss... get back up and start his relentless trudge up the hill.
Once more he would almost get to the top, AND AGAIN--- roll back down!
This went on for at least a good half hour or more until he would FINALLY make it up, or the woman would go out and retrieve him.
Although we rarely seen much of her and when we did she would be cussing out poor Sammy.
It was funny as long as Sammy didn't get seriously hurt from his falls.
Although until one day, when Sammy was on his way back from "one of his benders" some young guys followed him home.
These assholes grabbed Sammy knocked him to the ground and "rolled him." Another words, robbed him of his money--- right in front of his house.
After that... "Drunk Sammy" wasn't funny anymore.
Now let me take you back to that driveway that seemed to be connected to Ballard Street and E. North Street.
As I mentioned the drive way was long and shaped into a 'Big Y' and my parents shared it with the "neighbor." If your standing in front of the houses, the adjacent house would be North, on the left side, "The Neighborrrr's home."
Now you know if I had to put parentheses around "Neighbor" it's probably either funny or trouble, or a pain in the ass. It was actually all three.
Yea this driveway Wasn't, and just Couldn't be a simple driveway to share because it involved two stubborn woman.
One younger--one older.
The younger my mother...the older.. a woman, my mother gave the pseudonym, "Mrs. Khrushchev," to.
She did this because my mother didn't know the old woman's name AND presumed she was Russian. Lol.
The old woman did have a husband, his name was Marko . Now he was very quite, very reserved, and kept to himself.
Oh god---Never in all the history of the world did I believe, (at the time), a simple driveway would "kick up so much ruckus, but it did!
Now in this driveway where the "Y" divided on either side, was a beautiful flower bed about 7 feet long. Who had "dibs" or rights over it, I couldn't tell you because I didn't give a rats-ass. But...
it seemed to always, always be an issue with Mrs. Khrushchev, as "if" she owned both sides of this flower garden.
I remember one time when one of my cousin's came to visit from St. Johns, we decided to play 'Badminton' in the driveway and the the 'birdie' fell into the flower bed. Annie went to retrieve it and here comes Mrs. Khrushchev....
Anytime any of us were outside, this recluse would always be peeping out her windows making sure nobody stepped a foot in her yard or especially "her" precious garden.
And--- she was ugly! I'm sorry but she was and her demeanor made her uglier! She was a mean old peasant looking, prune-faced woman, who had a big nose, and always worn a scarf.
She was scary enough to look at and then, much more looking at her from a window???.....AAAAAAhhhh!
So the old woman came out grumbling about the birdie, we grumbled back until she went into her house and her window.
One other time some kid had lost a wheel from their tricycle and it ended up in Mrs. K's yard. Now what do you think this woman does???
She picks up the wheel and throws it into my mom's yard! Lol.
I go and tell my mom she comes out and SHE throws the wheel back into the old Russians' yard. Lol!
So now both woman are tossing this stupid wheel back and forth. And at times the wheel would roll right into the old woman's neighbors' yard which I believed it belonged to, in the first place.
You think she would leave it there, but "Oh No..." The old hag had to continue this comedy. I think she actually enjoyed it as she didn't have much to do in her life anyways.
Well--- it was clear that these two women were never going to get along. "Not a snowball's chance in Hell!"
So my Dad had to come up with a resolve: He decided it was high time to 'break bread' but with 'Vodka', "SMART..."
...And then "Cheers!" or as it is said in Polish "Okrzyki!" ( sounds like "Ock-shoo-key"), and so Marco & his wife, "Mrs. Khrushchev" drank up, along with the laughs, and shots glasses clinking with every "Okrzyki."
Plus to our surprise, these foreigners WERE NOT Russians, but Polish!. Lol.
No matter to my mother. She still referred to the old woman as Mrs. Khrushchev and for the most of it, the tension between them did seem to thaw out... somewhat.
And the saga now continues with: "THE HATCHES." Now this family lived on the corner of Ballard & N. East Street, in a big 2 story red house.
Very interesting family, but especially the matriarch Mrs. Mary Hatch! LOL!!!
I guess the only way I can measure her up is to one of the characters that Carol Burnett portrayed on her show in 1984 "Eunice," Mama's Family.
Like Eunice, Mrs. Hatch was a working-class stay-home wife, with 3 children, all close to my age.
Her persona was very boisterous, very dictatorial, and very overbearing; especially with her husband, Olie.
Now Olie was a quite spoken, thin as a rail man. A working blue collar guy like most of the men back then.
Who would always catch Hell from Mrs. Mary Hatch for no damn reason it seemed.
And when he would try to argue with her...FORGET IT! You could never understand or hear what he had to say. He was just too passive for this domineering wife of his.
Most of the time you would hear her say, "Shut up Olie!," and he did. Just like the character, Eunice's husband, Ed Higgins would. Lol.
At times ranting, or raving at him, her children, or at us. Clearly she wore the pants in that union.
But here and there, her soft side would crawl slowly out of it's dormant state, and her mood swings would give us all a break, especially Olie.
For instance, many times she would let us, (the neighbor kids), play in her home and it was fun!
They had many things to do: Different toys, costumes, dress ups for the girls, purses, jewelery, play high-heels; utensils for the play house.
Many kinds of building blocks, toy cars, books, color books, and a sandbox.
Lol---I'll never forget the times my cousin (Goy) Gloria, & Becky would go over with me to the Hatches' to play.
Goy would always, always, play dress up. Ugh--- Not me! Well at one point when she was all 'put-together' she decided to go downstairs "to the pretend parlor for pretend tea," I asummed.
Now...these 'play high-heels' these girls put on looked dangerous to me and I was right! She started down the steps and BAM! BAM!
She tripped and wiped out! Opps! I felt bad for my little cousin because she ended up with a nasty bruise on her chin! Ouchy!
In spite of her bruised chin, that incident did not prevent my dear cousin from playing, 'The dress up and evening wear high-heels game." And so, off to the parlor she went again, I asumed.
Brave one wasn't she.
And getting back to Mrs. Hatch, who wasn't all that bad I guess. At times she would at times make 'Home Made Ice cream' for the neighbor hood kids.
Ya know, and we all knew, somewhere in that body of hers' she did have a kindred spirit.
Albeit years later when I understood about,"The Curse," I attributed her rantings & ravings to "pre-menstrual syndrome. Big time! Again, poor Olie.
Next: "The Cousins." (part 1).
As I mentioned before, most of my friends then were related to me from both sides of the families.
Now the ones that lived with grandma & me, (on my mother's side),were my Uncle Rocky & Aunt Lucy, & their children. At the time they were: Alice, Gloria, Becky & little baby Theresa.
Also residing in the house was another uncle whom we, (and everyone else in the neighborhood), called "Tio." Tio is the Spanish word for uncle.
His name was Alejios, (Alex), and his second wife, Aunt Delores and their first child, Christina; whom we nic-named "Kina," lived there also.
"Tio" and his little family were a permanent resident there, while Rocky & Lucy & kids were temporarily there. As they had just moved from St. Johns and searching for a house here in Lansing.
Alice being the oldest was 4 years older than me and Alice liked to play jokes on us and scare the cramp outta us as well...and she loved it! Lol!
For instance: 'Bloody bones.' A chilling ghost tale of a bogeyman who was feared by kids. A creature with blood running down his raw face whom lived in the dark under the stairs sitting on bloody bones.
Alice would say: "One step Bloody Bones, two steps Dracula!!!"
And "AAAAAAHHHHHH!!!" there we went! I remember we
would hide at times behind grandma's big porch swing, cowering
with fear!
Another incident I recall, us kids & Alice were watching a old 'Frankenstein' movie on one of Tio's old black & white TV sets.
We were in one of the smaller rooms, cramped with the lights off, curtains shut and eyes glued to the set.
In our minds we were no longer on Ballard St., but in Doctor Frankenstein's, castle, the lair of the monster he created.
Suddenly... the monster Frankenstein was awaken from the dead and walking with his arms stretched out, moaning, moaning.......
Walking, walking. It almost seemed as if he was walking towards the TV. At that very moment Alice got up and scared the shit out of us! We all screamed, then simultaneously ran for the door. Lol!
Finally one of us got the door open and we ran out of that room; from the monster and from Alice!
AND-- out the front door down the street, scared out of out wit's mind!!!
Of course, Alice behind us laughing her ass off and yelling at us to come back because it wasn't for real. Lol.
We all got in trouble that day for that incident and for making so much noise!. Lol
Another scare Alice terrorized us with was, "The Crooked Man. Although this was not a nursery rhyme, or ghost tale.. "This Crooked Man, was for Real!
Now... our crooked man was tall, slinky, really old. He worn dark clothes and rode a large 3 wheel bike that had a big basket on the front of it, which carried his cane.
It actually resembled a child's tricycle, but for an adult.
For us back then, it seemed not only ridiculous, but also unusual. We didn't understand... or had we...maybe we wouldn't have been so scared of him.
No matter where he rode his bike, to see him riding it was CRRRREPY!
We would run or hide many times when we would see him in "North Town", (which was renamed "Old Town), where he was usually seen.
When he would get off his bike, to walk, he would be stooped over his cane and he would even cast a crooked shadow.
If we were in the car, we would immediately duck down, so the crooked man couldn't see us when he was passing by.
And no matter if he was on the other side of the street; we just couldn't bear a glimpse of this man.
I don't know if our fears of him were brought on by feelings of horror, pity, or disgust.
It was hard for us to discern our emotions; we were children, still innocent.
But was it was a lack of our social mores, not knowing how to behave/react in such situations?
Because growing up in the 50's, 60's, 70's many things were labeled "Taboo" and explanations were not an option.
Certain things were not suppose to be seen, or heard by children, much less explained.
Years later finding out "why" this person rode a huge bike and "why" his torso seem twisted was because he had a debilitating disease in his spine.
So maybe this poor soul we called "The Crooked Man" WAS terribly tormented by an illness. But because we were children, we were given no real reason for his affliction, and so he seemed "different..."
...scary, so we feared him... his bike... and his grotesque appearance, Sadly.
"There was a crooked man who walked a crooked mile..."
Unfortunately this crooked man had to "ride a bike" a crooked mile, many times and in pain, I now am sure.
Mmmmmmm...such irony.
Sometimes the things we see, cannot be unseen; and the things we say, or hear, cannot be unsaid or unheard,
Regrettably.
End of part 1 "My Childhood Neighborhood: The 1960's
"When you finally go back to your old
home, you find it wasn't the old home
you missed but your childhood." ~Sam Ewing.
"Childhood is a short season, but it is the most beautiful of all life's seasons."
I remember when I was a kid and someone would say: "I'M GONNA TELL YOUR MOM!" was the scariest sentence ever!
Hell...I'd go run and hide! Either under the bed, in a closet, the basement. Or if I was outside I would climb up a tree and wait... Hoping, (they) wouldn't tell on me so I could continue playing outside in my neighborhood.
It was because I loved my neighborhood I spent so much time outside.
In some ways our lives are akin to a novel.
Like a novel the characters, family, friends, the people; each played a significant role in our lives, no matter how important or how minute, or petite.
Like most of us, I was very fond of my friends. Let it be family, or neighbors; there's just something about childhood friends you just can't replace.
So let me begin to describe my community, and the inhabitants of our quaint "Little Hamlet," (as it was), in Lansing, Michigan.
I'll start with the picture. Of course that would be me standing in front of my grandmother's house on Ballard Street, the North side of Lansing.
Ballard Street was long and extended, even further as it crosses one of the main streets here in Lansing, N. Grand River Street.
Ballard also had a smaller street, a side street, E. North Street that connected to it. My mom, my dad, and at the time two younger siblings lived there.
The house they occupied was at the end of Ballard and if it wasn't for the Stop Sign any car would run right into their driveway, or house; which did happen but not to their home.
Also it was not far from grandmother's; and at the time I lived with grandmother; for most of my childhood anyways.
Now back to the picture. Notice in the photo that there are two houses on the other side of the street.
Both with a steep steps and yards.
Well in second house from the left a man & a woman, African Americans' lived there.
I don't recall the woman's name, but her husband, or maybe it was her brother, anyways his name was "Sammy," but we called him "Drunk Sammy.
Now Sammy I believed he was either retired or disabled. Although he didn't seem handicapped, just drunk most of the time. And I don't mean a little drunk...he was trashed! And every day it seemed.
What was funny about Sammy was, that when he had his fill or outta money, he would walk home from the local bar, as it was close, off of N. Grand River.
Sammy would come strolling down the street talking to himself, laughing or just trying to keep his bearings. When we would see him we would say, "Here comes 'drunk Sammy', and laugh.
Finally when he made it home, it was time for him to walk up ALL those steeps steps..and for some one who was liquored up, that was quite a mount.
He knew of course that wasn't going to happen. At one point I'm sure, he discerned that he would get hurt, as he probably did from previous attempts.
And so he made it a habit to "take on the steep yard challenge." At least if he fell, it wouldn't be that painful.
So there went Drunk Sammy trying his best to walk up the slope. Unfortunately he would get almost to the top and THEN....BAM! There he went rolling all the way down onto the sidewalk! Lol.
He looked around like a man who just got the rug pulled out from under him; he'd cuss... get back up and start his relentless trudge up the hill.
Once more he would almost get to the top, AND AGAIN--- roll back down!
This went on for at least a good half hour or more until he would FINALLY make it up, or the woman would go out and retrieve him.
Although we rarely seen much of her and when we did she would be cussing out poor Sammy.
It was funny as long as Sammy didn't get seriously hurt from his falls.
Although until one day, when Sammy was on his way back from "one of his benders" some young guys followed him home.
These assholes grabbed Sammy knocked him to the ground and "rolled him." Another words, robbed him of his money--- right in front of his house.
After that... "Drunk Sammy" wasn't funny anymore.
Now let me take you back to that driveway that seemed to be connected to Ballard Street and E. North Street.
As I mentioned the drive way was long and shaped into a 'Big Y' and my parents shared it with the "neighbor." If your standing in front of the houses, the adjacent house would be North, on the left side, "The Neighborrrr's home."
Now you know if I had to put parentheses around "Neighbor" it's probably either funny or trouble, or a pain in the ass. It was actually all three.
Yea this driveway Wasn't, and just Couldn't be a simple driveway to share because it involved two stubborn woman.
One younger--one older.
The younger my mother...the older.. a woman, my mother gave the pseudonym, "Mrs. Khrushchev," to.
She did this because my mother didn't know the old woman's name AND presumed she was Russian. Lol.
The old woman did have a husband, his name was Marko . Now he was very quite, very reserved, and kept to himself.
Oh god---Never in all the history of the world did I believe, (at the time), a simple driveway would "kick up so much ruckus, but it did!
Now in this driveway where the "Y" divided on either side, was a beautiful flower bed about 7 feet long. Who had "dibs" or rights over it, I couldn't tell you because I didn't give a rats-ass. But...
it seemed to always, always be an issue with Mrs. Khrushchev, as "if" she owned both sides of this flower garden.
I remember one time when one of my cousin's came to visit from St. Johns, we decided to play 'Badminton' in the driveway and the the 'birdie' fell into the flower bed. Annie went to retrieve it and here comes Mrs. Khrushchev....
Anytime any of us were outside, this recluse would always be peeping out her windows making sure nobody stepped a foot in her yard or especially "her" precious garden.
And--- she was ugly! I'm sorry but she was and her demeanor made her uglier! She was a mean old peasant looking, prune-faced woman, who had a big nose, and always worn a scarf.
She was scary enough to look at and then, much more looking at her from a window???.....AAAAAAhhhh!
So the old woman came out grumbling about the birdie, we grumbled back until she went into her house and her window.
One other time some kid had lost a wheel from their tricycle and it ended up in Mrs. K's yard. Now what do you think this woman does???
She picks up the wheel and throws it into my mom's yard! Lol.
I go and tell my mom she comes out and SHE throws the wheel back into the old Russians' yard. Lol!
So now both woman are tossing this stupid wheel back and forth. And at times the wheel would roll right into the old woman's neighbors' yard which I believed it belonged to, in the first place.
You think she would leave it there, but "Oh No..." The old hag had to continue this comedy. I think she actually enjoyed it as she didn't have much to do in her life anyways.
Well--- it was clear that these two women were never going to get along. "Not a snowball's chance in Hell!"
So my Dad had to come up with a resolve: He decided it was high time to 'break bread' but with 'Vodka', "SMART..."
...And then "Cheers!" or as it is said in Polish "Okrzyki!" ( sounds like "Ock-shoo-key"), and so Marco & his wife, "Mrs. Khrushchev" drank up, along with the laughs, and shots glasses clinking with every "Okrzyki."
Plus to our surprise, these foreigners WERE NOT Russians, but Polish!. Lol.
No matter to my mother. She still referred to the old woman as Mrs. Khrushchev and for the most of it, the tension between them did seem to thaw out... somewhat.
And the saga now continues with: "THE HATCHES." Now this family lived on the corner of Ballard & N. East Street, in a big 2 story red house.
Very interesting family, but especially the matriarch Mrs. Mary Hatch! LOL!!!
I guess the only way I can measure her up is to one of the characters that Carol Burnett portrayed on her show in 1984 "Eunice," Mama's Family.
Like Eunice, Mrs. Hatch was a working-class stay-home wife, with 3 children, all close to my age.
Her persona was very boisterous, very dictatorial, and very overbearing; especially with her husband, Olie.
Now Olie was a quite spoken, thin as a rail man. A working blue collar guy like most of the men back then.
Who would always catch Hell from Mrs. Mary Hatch for no damn reason it seemed.
And when he would try to argue with her...FORGET IT! You could never understand or hear what he had to say. He was just too passive for this domineering wife of his.
Most of the time you would hear her say, "Shut up Olie!," and he did. Just like the character, Eunice's husband, Ed Higgins would. Lol.
At times ranting, or raving at him, her children, or at us. Clearly she wore the pants in that union.
But here and there, her soft side would crawl slowly out of it's dormant state, and her mood swings would give us all a break, especially Olie.
For instance, many times she would let us, (the neighbor kids), play in her home and it was fun!
They had many things to do: Different toys, costumes, dress ups for the girls, purses, jewelery, play high-heels; utensils for the play house.
Many kinds of building blocks, toy cars, books, color books, and a sandbox.
Lol---I'll never forget the times my cousin (Goy) Gloria, & Becky would go over with me to the Hatches' to play.
Goy would always, always, play dress up. Ugh--- Not me! Well at one point when she was all 'put-together' she decided to go downstairs "to the pretend parlor for pretend tea," I asummed.
Now...these 'play high-heels' these girls put on looked dangerous to me and I was right! She started down the steps and BAM! BAM!
She tripped and wiped out! Opps! I felt bad for my little cousin because she ended up with a nasty bruise on her chin! Ouchy!
In spite of her bruised chin, that incident did not prevent my dear cousin from playing, 'The dress up and evening wear high-heels game." And so, off to the parlor she went again, I asumed.
Brave one wasn't she.
And getting back to Mrs. Hatch, who wasn't all that bad I guess. At times she would at times make 'Home Made Ice cream' for the neighbor hood kids.
Ya know, and we all knew, somewhere in that body of hers' she did have a kindred spirit.
Albeit years later when I understood about,"The Curse," I attributed her rantings & ravings to "pre-menstrual syndrome. Big time! Again, poor Olie.
Next: "The Cousins." (part 1).
As I mentioned before, most of my friends then were related to me from both sides of the families.
Now the ones that lived with grandma & me, (on my mother's side),were my Uncle Rocky & Aunt Lucy, & their children. At the time they were: Alice, Gloria, Becky & little baby Theresa.
Also residing in the house was another uncle whom we, (and everyone else in the neighborhood), called "Tio." Tio is the Spanish word for uncle.
His name was Alejios, (Alex), and his second wife, Aunt Delores and their first child, Christina; whom we nic-named "Kina," lived there also.
"Tio" and his little family were a permanent resident there, while Rocky & Lucy & kids were temporarily there. As they had just moved from St. Johns and searching for a house here in Lansing.
Alice being the oldest was 4 years older than me and Alice liked to play jokes on us and scare the cramp outta us as well...and she loved it! Lol!
For instance: 'Bloody bones.' A chilling ghost tale of a bogeyman who was feared by kids. A creature with blood running down his raw face whom lived in the dark under the stairs sitting on bloody bones.
Alice would say: "One step Bloody Bones, two steps Dracula!!!"
And "AAAAAAHHHHHH!!!" there we went! I remember we
would hide at times behind grandma's big porch swing, cowering
with fear!
Another incident I recall, us kids & Alice were watching a old 'Frankenstein' movie on one of Tio's old black & white TV sets.
We were in one of the smaller rooms, cramped with the lights off, curtains shut and eyes glued to the set.
In our minds we were no longer on Ballard St., but in Doctor Frankenstein's, castle, the lair of the monster he created.
Suddenly... the monster Frankenstein was awaken from the dead and walking with his arms stretched out, moaning, moaning.......
Walking, walking. It almost seemed as if he was walking towards the TV. At that very moment Alice got up and scared the shit out of us! We all screamed, then simultaneously ran for the door. Lol!
Finally one of us got the door open and we ran out of that room; from the monster and from Alice!
AND-- out the front door down the street, scared out of out wit's mind!!!
Of course, Alice behind us laughing her ass off and yelling at us to come back because it wasn't for real. Lol.
We all got in trouble that day for that incident and for making so much noise!. Lol
Another scare Alice terrorized us with was, "The Crooked Man. Although this was not a nursery rhyme, or ghost tale.. "This Crooked Man, was for Real!
Now... our crooked man was tall, slinky, really old. He worn dark clothes and rode a large 3 wheel bike that had a big basket on the front of it, which carried his cane.
It actually resembled a child's tricycle, but for an adult.
For us back then, it seemed not only ridiculous, but also unusual. We didn't understand... or had we...maybe we wouldn't have been so scared of him.
No matter where he rode his bike, to see him riding it was CRRRREPY!
We would run or hide many times when we would see him in "North Town", (which was renamed "Old Town), where he was usually seen.
When he would get off his bike, to walk, he would be stooped over his cane and he would even cast a crooked shadow.
If we were in the car, we would immediately duck down, so the crooked man couldn't see us when he was passing by.
And no matter if he was on the other side of the street; we just couldn't bear a glimpse of this man.
I don't know if our fears of him were brought on by feelings of horror, pity, or disgust.
It was hard for us to discern our emotions; we were children, still innocent.
But was it was a lack of our social mores, not knowing how to behave/react in such situations?
Because growing up in the 50's, 60's, 70's many things were labeled "Taboo" and explanations were not an option.
Certain things were not suppose to be seen, or heard by children, much less explained.
Years later finding out "why" this person rode a huge bike and "why" his torso seem twisted was because he had a debilitating disease in his spine.
So maybe this poor soul we called "The Crooked Man" WAS terribly tormented by an illness. But because we were children, we were given no real reason for his affliction, and so he seemed "different..."
...scary, so we feared him... his bike... and his grotesque appearance, Sadly.
"There was a crooked man who walked a crooked mile..."
Unfortunately this crooked man had to "ride a bike" a crooked mile, many times and in pain, I now am sure.
Mmmmmmm...such irony.
Sometimes the things we see, cannot be unseen; and the things we say, or hear, cannot be unsaid or unheard,
Regrettably.
End of part 1 "My Childhood Neighborhood: The 1960's
Sunday, January 4, 2015
My Mirror Of Erised, My Mirror Of "Desire."
"Erised Stru Ehru Ube Cafru Oyt On Wohsi" (Backwards)
"I show not your face but your heart's desire."
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Here in my magic solitude in my youth I have known
A mystic mirror I alone have sown.
As I gaze upon it's surface, I see my heart, my soul; my dreams, my goal.
Albeit this reflection reveals neither truth, or wisdom, nor gold
These images of my spirit beguile me as they unfold
And cradle my soul when knocking at my mind's door, forevermore.
Lost in my mirror of Desire. Delusions and passions; love and hope.
Like anesthetic dope helping me cope with my chronic mope.
But now no more...
I've turned fantasies into action; dreams into pursuits and away from this madness of mine.
"For it does not do well to dwell on dreams and forget to live."
And so it is.
~LJLS
*This is a story of a reflection from my youth.
"I show not your face but your heart's desire."
Here in my magic solitude in my youth I have known
A mystic mirror I alone have sown.
As I gaze upon it's surface, I see my heart, my soul; my dreams, my goal.
Albeit this reflection reveals neither truth, or wisdom, nor gold
These images of my spirit beguile me as they unfold
And cradle my soul when knocking at my mind's door, forevermore.
Lost in my mirror of Desire. Delusions and passions; love and hope.
Like anesthetic dope helping me cope with my chronic mope.
But now no more...
I've turned fantasies into action; dreams into pursuits and away from this madness of mine.
"For it does not do well to dwell on dreams and forget to live."
And so it is.
~LJLS
*This is a story of a reflection from my youth.
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