As I got older, I think I became my mom's best friend. Because my dad was gone so much, I think she started to rely on me more and more to become "the man around the house". I'm not sure that was such a wise idea but that's the way it was as soon as I hit the age of about 12. Most of the memories that I have about my dad, also apply to my mom. Vacations, trips, special events...all those memories are the same so I will zero in on specific memories of things my mom and I did or experienced together.
The main thing I remember about my mom was that she ALWAYS said NO, especially when my dad was away. Mom, I want to ride my bike to the river...NO, mom, I want to go over to Robbie's and swim in his pool...NO, mom, I want...NO, mom, I want...NO. It was like that all the time...Obviously...she was very protective of me, plus if you have read the previous blogs...you can see that I really wasn't very trustworthy so there was good reason for her concern!! How did I respond to my mom always telling me NO......I did it anyway. As the quote goes and I learn this at a very early age....“It is often easier to ask for forgiveness than to ask for permission.”. I still go by that philosophy today!!
I did so many things to drive my mom nuts that I won't relate all the different stories but here is one I really have a good memory of. After we moved to Wilmington Delaware....the urge to play with matches was all but about gone with the exception of one last time. My friend Michael and I decided that we needed to entertain ourselves by hiking down to an old barn that was on some farmers property not far from where we lived. Once at the barn we were trying to decide what to do, so we started throwing rocks onto the metal roof of the barn so we could hear the cool noises the rocks made as they rolled down this metal roof....cool, huh??
The next thing we knew was that one of the rocks we threw went through a glass window and we thought...wow, let see how many windows we could really break. We kept doing this until the farmer started chasing us. We knew we could get away because we could run faster and we had a good head start. Plus, this farmer had no idea who we were. We started running home and I decided that if the farmer called the police..we could divert their attention by setting the field on fire. That way, the police would be more interested in a burning field than a couple of kids. I started a little fire in the dry grass and started running again. At the age of twelve or thirteen, our little criminal minds were working in overtime. Well, we were about to get fooled. We made the mistake of running in the direction of our neighborhood...the only neighborhood around at the time. The police were smart enough to figure out that, that's the neighborhood where these two young criminals lived so all they had to do was drive around the neighborhood. Another thing we did not know was that the farmer had seen the jacket that Michael was wearing. He ALWAYS wore a blue New York Giants baseball jacket in a land where there was a 99.9999% Philadelphia Philly's fan base. The police drove into the neighborhood and asked the first set of kids they saw, "who in the neighborhood wears a NY Giants blue jacket"?... and I'm sure every kid in unison said Michael C_______, and when the police asked these sames kids, "who was Michael's best friend"?...I'm sure they all said in unison....Andy H_______. The next thing I knew was my mother calling me to the front living room. "Andy, she said loudly...why are two police cars sitting in front of Michael's house"?....."I dunno", I said....that my answer to every question my parents ever ask me. "WHAT HAVE YOU TWO DONE NOW"?!!...... "I dunno", I said.....well, the jig was up....mom then said "look, one of the police cars is headed this way"...WHAT THE HELL HAVE YOU TWO DONE"??...."Well, mom....I think we broke a window", I said...the doorbell rang and my mom made me answer the door...the policeman said..."are you Andy H____, "yes sir" I said, thinking that I would win him over by showing him how polite I could be. "Is you mother home"? he asked....."yes sir"...again with the politeness....I called out her name and my mother came from around the corner. To be honest, the first thing I thought of was that my mother was a beautiful women in her 30's and I was hoping that her beauty would distract this policeman and I might just get off....at 13, this was the way I was already thinking. Well, my mother tried the best she could to talk the cop into letting me off but after the policeman explained to her that we broke more than 30 windows and were suspects in setting a field on fire....there really wasn't much she could do. The farmer wanted to file charges and the police wanted to set an example to the other kids, by arresting us so that's exactly what they did...I was put into the police car in handcuffs in front of the whole neighborhood full of kids. Michael was also arrested. The police told our parents that they needed to keep us for about 4 hours at the police station, then they could come and get us. Needless to say....my mother was PISSED!! Four hours later my mom and Mrs.C__________ showed up at the police station to gather up their thirteen year old criminals. They were told that if they (we) paid for all the damage, the farmer would drop all his complains and our records would be clear. We also found out that since nobody saw us set the fire (we never admitted to that), there was no retribution. This is where Michael and I were introduced to a new form of punishment call "community service", a term that I would get very accustom to in the next few years. Our parents paid the cost to replace all the glass and Michael and I were "sentenced" to 4 months of picking up trash along the road in front of the farmers house along with a section along Philadelphia Pike, the road that went by the police station. Did we learn our lesson...not really but we did decide that we would think long and hard about the consequences before we committed our next crime. Little did I know at the time, that both Michael and I would have our first girlfriends and our days of crime would almost be over....isn't it funny the influence a girlfriend has over you!!
My next specific memory was when my mom got her new car....a Nash Metropolitan...it was a cute little car that didn't weigh very much and my mom loved to drive it. She got it in the winter and we went to the store one afternoon when the roads were a bit icy. My mom was really a tomboy at heart...what I knew about her childhood, she was always bucking her parents authority and doing things she shouldn't have been doing...(and you wonder where I get it!!). One time my mother ask her dad (this was about 1935 or 36) if she could borrow the car....the answer was no so what did my mom do.....she got the keys and basically stole the car out of the driveway...she drove around picking up her girlfriends...while driving downtown, she lost control and drove my granddads car through the front glass window of a barbershop...scattering men in every direction. To her chagrin, a reporter for the Columbus Dispatch (the local newspaper) was in the barber shop and not only did he write the article but took pictures......and put it on the front page (must have been a slow news day)...with the headline..."Daughter of Prominent Local Physician Drives Through Barbershop Window". So you see, I come by this stuff naturally. Anyway, back to the Metropolitan...as we were driving home (this is in Lutherville Maryland) on Seminary Avenue...my mom decided to play around on the ice....she was pretty good with a standard transmission but this car was so light, it didn't take much for her to loose control and off the road and down the hill we went. I use to always kid my mom when she was driving by saying "we're gonna die, we're gonna die", everytime she did something silly in the car. I stayed with the car as she walked home to call a wrecker. We both laughed about that for a long time. I had to promise not to tell my dad...but he found out anyway!!
The last memory that I will talk about was when I was inducted into the Army in the mid-60's. Some of you will have no idea what I'm talking about when I mention military draft but those of you who do...will understand some of this. The rule was that as long as a male was in college and had passing grades, he would be classified 1S and be exempt from the military draft until he graduated or failed. At the time, it was popular to stay in college as long as you could so that you NEVER would become a 1A...meaning eligible immediately for the draft. Well, I was cooking along pretty good until I had a little trouble at Trinity University in San Antonio and was asked to leave for a semester. It was incumbent on the school to IMMEDIATELY inform the local draft board of a male students draft classification change....and they did!! I went from a 1S to a 1A and was eligible immediately for the draft (there is a whole story to tell but I'm not going to get into it at this point). Anyway....the day came where I had to report to the local draft board and be inducted into the Army. I packed a small bag, took a few dollars and got into the car so my mom could drive me downtown a to the draft board. I think my sister came with us. There was a tearful goodbye, my mom knowing that she was probably never going to see me again (Vietnam you know!!). Well...not so fast...without going into a lot of details....I was found ineligible for the draft and by late afternoon, I was making a phone call home to my mom, so she could come downtown to pick me up....what a change of emotions that had to be for her. Again, I will write about this whole episode in a future blog but if you have ever seen the movie "Alice's Restaurant" starring Arlo Guthrie...you will get a pretty good idea of what happened to me during those very weird 9 hours at the local San Antonio draft board!!
I have other memories of my mom but I think I will stop here....again, thanks for reading and see you at the next blog!!
Oh, I remember that Metropolitan so well, how I loved that car, in fact, saw one exactly like it at the auction, same color, everything, brought back lots of memories.
ReplyDeleteThe day you left for the draft was indeed a very sad day for all. I remember that clearly and when I got home from school, there you were, everyone was so happy.
Really enjoying this, keep up the great job!