Freedom

Crossing the Street

Second street, like all others back then, was a two-way street with parking on both sides. Alleys were unpaved and did not have street names like they do now. I never understood why alleys all of a sudden became streets since there were no houses on them. The back yards of all of the houses ended at the "alley."

I was not allowed to cross the street by myself unless my mother stood on the porch and watched me. It was until I was almost in first grade that I finally could cross without her watching. That was my first taste of freedom.

Two-wheeler

The next major step in gaining freedom was when I got my bicycle. I only remember there being one size two wheel-bicycle and it was full size. Most parents didn’t have money to buy different sizes as you were growing up. I’m not sure of the year when I got my bicycle but I know it was impossible for me to straddle it without falling over, after all it was a boys bike!

My father helped me get on it the very first time and he balanced it until I got up to speed. Stopping, well that was another story and I had to let the bike fall to the side to get off. Every time I wanted to ride, I would have to get next to something I could hold on to until I got my feet on the pedals. Most of the time it was one of the green iron clothesline poles in the back yard.

There were no training wheels, no extensions on the pedals, and no helmets. There were a few bumps and bruises, that’s for certain.

Driver’s License

Learning to drive with your father was a whole new experience. We have a light green 1949 four-door Ford with a three speed stick shift. I don’t remember if I had to take a test for a learner’s permit or not. I do know that someone with a driver’s license had to be with you. I went out quite a few times with my father until I became comfortable behind the wheel. Somewhere along the way, between me first learning to drive and before getting my license, my dad got a 1953 Ford station wagon for his TV business.

Right on my sixteenth birthday I wanted to go get my license. The testing facility was in Schuylkill Haven. My father was out of town making coal deliveries but my sister, Shirley, had her license. She went with me in the station wagon and I took and passed the test.

One month later and disaster struck. I borrowed my Dad’s station wagon to go to a church youth gathering in Pottsville with Billy Gilfert, one of my friends. We didn’t go straight to the church like I should have. After driving around for a while we were on the way to the church and came to the stop light at the traffic light when you first enter Pottsville. The light was green and just before I entered the intersection to turn left the light turned yellow. There was another car coming from the opposite direction but since I had my turn signal on and was preparing to turn in front of the car I was certain it would not run the yellow. It did and smashed into the right rear panel of my dad’s car. We got spun around and came to rest near someone’s front yard. There were no seat belts in cars yet and we got quite a jolt. I hung on to the steering wheel but Billy didn’t have anything to keep him from getting bounced around.

I never phoned my father. We went to the police station and eventually drove home. When I arrived in Frackville I don’t know what I was thinking but instead of parking facing south in front of our house I went around the block so I could be facing north. That way the damaged right side of the car could not be seen from the house.

I went inside as though nothing had happened. I obviously was acting strange so when my father asked I told him what had happened. He went outside to look and I stood there in fear because I was certain there would be repercussions and I’d have my driving privileges revoked. He said to come into the kitchen and we sat at the table. We talked for a few minutes about what happened. Very little was said for a minute or two. Then he tossed the keys to me and said to go up to the Carvel stand and get a quart of ice cream. I still don’t understand it to this day but my respect for him grew. I’m certain he knew the best thing for me would be to get back in the car right away. That, I’ll never forget.