Where ya from?

[barb]

People can be so small-minded, Bullfrog!  Stories like that really incense me.  What is wrong with people?   

[Bullfrog]

I'll never forget my first "white" girlfriend that it was OK with her parents. We were maybe 7 or 8 years old and it was totally innocent puppy love. Her name was Elaine Bloomefield and her mother treated me as somewhat of a novelty or special, at least in my young mind.

Looking back, I was probably the first different child that she had ever met, but she was raised right and was a wonderfull woman.

She actually liked me and showed it. She didn't watch me when I when to the kitchen for a drink of water. She didn't shun me.

Kids are a lot smarter than you think. Even though they can't formulate the complex equations of social interactions into words, they still feel it when you single them out for no reason of their own.

Anyway, I am tending to digress and take this post into a pity party. There is a lot more history here that we haven't heard. There are a lot more ancestors and Dans out there. Grandfathers that stormed Normandy or stalked the jungles of Viet Nam. Mothers that made patchwork quilts out of our old clothes and actually milked cows and goats.

Made homemade ice cream and took us to the beach. Taught us to catch fireflies and tended our wounds. Rode us in the basket of a bicycle when we were kids. Clapped when we caught a perch that was maybe 3 inches long. Encouraged us to take our first steps and walked us through life from then on.

Tell me about your mom and Dad. Or an old black man that took you under his wing as a son and taught you how to hunt and fish. How not to judge others by the color of their skin.

Tell me about your neighbor who taught you the lessons of life. Tell me about the first Mom that treated you as an equal. Tell me about your Granny that smoked a pipe and was a hell raiser. Tell me about your fathers that fought in the wars.

[mascot]

Yes, Bullfrog, James & Yvonne were black, I guess I didn't post it because I didn't really think about it.  My father has always been a horrible person, and he wants nothing to do with any of his kids today, and vice-versa.  He has always been violently abusive and even today no one in our family is close, there's always so much animosity, anger...and hate.  I spent the first 20 some years of my life trying to figure out what I did as a child that made him dislike me so much.  Then spent the next 20 trying to figure out why my mother resented me for becoming successful (in my own way) and not becoming the pathetic failure she expected me to be.  You can't pick your family, can you?

**as an afterthought...sorry to hijack your thread with this story, but people tell me it's interesting so here's my Reader's Digest condensed story of my life! (or a few days of it, at least) **

At the end of 17 and in living in rural Maryland with my mother at the time, I decided to visit my aunt and uncle in California because I was so afraid of my father tracking me down and running me over, or beating me up again.  So I stuck out my thumb for the first time and decided to hitchhike to California.

The more people told me I was crazy and that I'd never make it, that I'd starve and die; the more determined I was to finish the trip.  So I left on a cold winter night and got a few miles away and it was getting late, so I found a motel with an all night laundry and I sat in a chair and slept there all night. At six in the morning I began my trek north to the closest major highway to take me west.  I got one major ride from a trucker to Pennsylvania, and I really weirded out when he grabbed a piece of hash and asked if I wanted to smoke it with him.  Back then, 1979, people just assumed that anyone who would hitchhike cross-country was a stoner.

After I got out of his truck, I went a few more miles and got to Interstate 80 and a guy heading to Oregon gave me a lift to Utah, then from there another lift from a trucker into Sacramento.  So despite the nay sayers and the caring people who saw I was just a young troubled teen, I made my journey by thumb to California.  My whole trip began in Frederick, Md at 6 am on a Monday morning, and I landed in Sacramento that Thursday at 9 am...less than four days to get 3500 miles.  I forgot to mention, when I left I had just the clothes on my back and 28 cents in my pocket.

Being naive, young and innocent, I was unaware of what some people would try with me, being that although I was 17 I was very small and looked all of 14.  One guy that gave me a ride told me he had kids my age and was acting fatherly, then asked if I wanted to drink some beer with him to relax, because he allows his own son to drink with him.  I drank a lot back then, dear old dad got me hooked on alcohol at 12, so I went with this guy to his hotel room to 'drink beer', unaware that he had ulterior motives.  He kept trying to get me to sit on the bed with him and I just wanted to drink beer.  Finally I had enough and told him to knock it off and give me a ride to where he said he would.  He did.   I got to my aunt & uncle's home and of course nobody knew where I was for three days, so it was a big surprise to everyone.  Things didn't work out so well there, so I hitchhiked up and down the California coast a couple times.

Being that young looking kid, a few more old pervert men tried to entice me into spending time with them.  It never happened, but more than a few old men grabbed at my thighs or tried to cop a feel on me.  I opened the door of the car one time and stepped out, he was driving 35 mph at the time and hit the brakes hard so by the time I hit the ground he wasn't going that fast.  I had had enough of that guy begging me to come back to his trailer and allow him to give me a __________(use your imagination). 

I continued on for the next day or so, walking much of the time until I felt like sticking my thumb out.  One guy was really kewl.  He had a 12 pack of Budweiser and asked if I wanted one, which I did, and it went down pretty quick.  Then we drank some more and he got another 12 pack and I helped him finish that.  He was a guy who lived in Guerneville, hunting and fishing in the mountain areas, and was fascinated about my trip.  We talked for a couple hours and when he finally had to head home he gave me the name of a friend of his to look up when I got to LA, and then he gave me 20 bucks from his wallet, and insisted I took it.  I still remember his name to this day and have come thisclose to tracking him down, but he moved to another town.  I thanked him and continued my trek.

Then later that night about 1 am, I was on some back road north of LA off the 101, and in the middle of nowhere with pitch black skies and no lights, and a car came by after about an hour of nothing.  I stuck out my thumb and it was probably the worst thing to happen to me.  The driver passed me then stopped, and as I was running up to the car he started backing up and nearly ran me over.  Like a fool, I still got in and he reeked of alcohol and pot.

As he started driving, he went into graphic detail about his desires with me.  When we got to an intersection, I thanked him for the ride and went to get out, and he grabbed me by the neck and pulled a knife, telling me, and I remember his words to this day: "Please stay in the car.  If you try to get out again I will cut you up".  Yeah, he actually said 'please'.  I was scared, because he just went into graphic detail a couple minutes earlier, and then displayed a knife.  He turned left (the freeway was to the right), and he drove a little ways and pulled over to some dark, empty lot behind a run down gas station.  I thought he was going to attack me, but he got out to relieve himself.  I didn't think to grab the keys from the ignition because that was stealing (yeah, a conscience even in the midst of terror) so I just got out and started running towards the freeway.  Once there, I ran down the shoulder and kept running, and checking over my shoulder and saw his car.  He drove past me...whew!

That night I stopped hitchhiking for a while, and spent the day in the LA area, Griffith Park (think "HOLLYWOOD" sign) and after a day in LA I started heading back to my aunt's place.  I walked about 28 miles and then laid down on a hill to get some sleep.  Finally, at 5 am I stuck out my thumb and headed back, and my uncle promptly put my on a plane and sent me back to the person who was the cause of all my problems: my father. 

Anyway, sorry for hi-jacking the thread...but that's kinda where I'm from.

[Mikey]

Sounds like hitchhiking isn't the safest method of travel in CA....   I've only hitchhiked once in my life and that was at age 6 or 7 and with my mother and older brother.  From my understanding my father had abandoned the family and we had been homeless for some time and living under the canopy of oleander bushes at the mouth of the LA river where it empties into the ocean in Long Beach.  I remember walking the river bank and pulling dandelions which our mom boiled and we ate.  To this day I like spinach and chard.....  We ended up hitchhiking and some stranger driving a Woody picked us up and drove us to the Riverside area where lived with him in his small trailer.  It had no bathroom and I remember having to pee into Mason jars at night.  I got the beating of my life when one time I knock over the Mason jar full of pee.  Most people would be shocked at my early years but when you are that young you think it's normal.  I think most kids are much tougher and able to cope with life's handouts than psychologists give them credit for.

[mascot]

Yeah, especially since there were a few freeway murderers at that time that were picking up young, hitchhiking boys and killing them.  Bonin was executed in 95(?) for his crimes back then, and there were four others.  I have, out of curiosity, contacted a writer from back then that says he thinks I may have been one of the intended victims, from how it sounded.  I'm not sure, but when I did some research I found out that the killings were happening in the same area at the same time frame: late 70's and early 80's.  Not to sound like a drama queen or anything, but it's possible, I guess, that I was one that got away.  I had come across another hitchhiker that had a huge backback and he told me that one guy tried to attack him so he broke his arm and took his car a few dozen miles away and ditched it. 

Of course, growing up we had our share of horrible beings hanging out in the woods, too.  I remember listening to a cop give a description of a guy who was wanted for killing a kid, and later that afternoon we were playing in the woods and I ran down a path and there was this guy standing behind a tree, peering out from it, and he matched the description to a T.  I ran back and told my friends, then went to tell one of the adults and nobody believed me.  He did walk by my other friends, but since Brene was about 6'2" and all fo 210 lbs I don't imagine the guy wanted anything to do with us.

I'm always fascinated about stories like yours and Bullfrogs.  Even though I had a very abusive father, I've always told people two things: 1) I'd never change my childhood even if it were possible; and 2) as bad as I ever felt I had it, I know it was a proverbial drop in a bucket compared to what some kids went through.  Even at 12 and faced with the task of raising my three younger siblings, I was happy that my mother 'got away' and didn't have to get beat up anymore.  I knew I could take it, but she was a tiny woman and couldn't defend herself.  But we never had to catch our own meals or eat boiled dandelions (or pee into a mason jar!), so I guess it wasn't so bad after all.

[Mikey]

You triggered a thought.  I can't remember if it was in the 70's or 80's but there was some guy that lived in Long Beach who picked up young men, dismembered them and then left them in trashbags along the freeway in Orange County.  I forget how many he killed before he was caught but it was several. 

[mascot]

You know, I had no idea about this stuff until they executed Bonin in 96.  The news reports then said, "he was the freeway killer of LA/Orange county in the late 70's and early 80's", and that really hit close to home because it was Feb/March of 79 when I was there and someone threatened to kill me.  It was very surreal!

I've done some light research and found that there were five guys killing people/hitchhikers around that time frame: William Bonin, Randy Kraft, James Munro, Vernone Butts and Greg Miley.  I know that three of them weren't where I was at that time, but two of them could have been, and both sort of remind me of the guy who stopped to give me a ride.  But I can't be certain and don't want to be a sensationalist about it, even though the story does ring familiar to what those guys were doing.  There are lots of stories about them, and who knows if it was just coincidence that the person said that?

I've tried asking anyone who was involved back then if they knew what kind of car any of them drove, but only one person has responded and doesn't seem too interested in finding out.  I realize it's 28 years later, but still it makes me curious.  It makes for an interesting story, though!

[Jerry]

I hitched to Florida twice in my teens.  It was easy despite the forebodings i was never bothered.
No one tried to fondle me.  Michael, maybe you were cuter!
I did stop in Rome, Georgia and played pool with a bunch of local country boys.  I was winning handily and things began to get ugly.  Although a teen I had the sense to lose.  It was not a good place to get beat up!

Why Rome?  I had a pal playing for the Phillies and i visited him, even got to sleep in a bunkhouse.
Met a few dodger legends.  This was in the late 40s.  Pee wee Rees, Gil Hodges  and Duke Snider were still playing

[Mikey]

Yes, Randy Kraft was the guy who lived in Long Beach that I was thinking of....  A quick google indicates he was convicted of 16 murders and was suspected in the similar deaths of 51 additional murders.  He was convicted in 1989 and sentenced to death........where he still remains on San Quentin's death row...  Some justice system.  He's coming up on 20 years since a jury of his peers said he should die. 

[Bullfrog]

Blind Too, and you said that your past wasn't interesting or challenging? What a story.

Mikey, eating boiled dandilions and living under the canopy of oleander bushes at the mouth of the LA river where it empties into the ocean in Long Beach?

Jerry a pool shark? Who would have guessed?

This is really amazing to me. We don't like to expose the dark sides of our lives most of the time. "Normal" people might not understand. It is good to know that I'm not the only one who had an absent father figure in my youth.

I think that it is the little stories like this that are really interesting. Things that happened in our past and we still to this day wonder how we lived through them.

I have a confession to make. I wound up in the Gatesville State Reform School for boys at the age of 14. All of the poverty, prejudice and anger just built up and I exploded when my father died. It was a very violent and totally different atmosphere. The brutality from the gaurds was at least equal to, if not greater than that of the inmates.

I went astray from the law and rebelled and paid the price. I really find this personal history amazing and want to hear more. Kids striking out on their own hitchiking. Eating boiled Dandelions, hunting rabbits at night, shooting pool and dodging child molesters.

We are all old ponders now, but we once were wild and daring and we lived really different lives and survived it all. Tell me more, what happened after that?

So... Where ya from?

[miguynmkoi]

Honestly guys...this is what builds good character and solid honest human being.  Nowadays, and I make it short, the young ones don't get it 

You're all solid grounded people as far as I can see (and I'm 20/20....with my glasses on). 

[Jerry]

Nah to Poolshark" Bullfrog. But I came from Phladelphia, the home Of Willie Mosconi, Willie Hoppe, Ralph greenleaf and more!  All great champions.
I had a room over the "Royal Palce Billiard Acadmy" and often had FREE lessons from those name.
Of course i watched every move they made.

Mosconi was in "the Hustler" and was tech advisor as well.  The Legendary Minnesota Fats was NOT a great player

[SueSTx]

WOW you guys.

And I always thought I was raised "poor".   We never went to bed hungry or worried about a roof over our heads.  But just had to work hard to raise and tend what we ate.  We probably ate better than most "wealthy" folks.  We always had several freezers full of meats, fruits and vegetables that we raised to freeze and can.  I remember picking green beans early of a Saturday morning, then sitting in front of the TV and watching American Bandstand and snapping those beans for the freezer.  We dug potatoes in  morning before I got my Senior pics taken that afternoon in 1968.

There were 6 kids in our family and the one with the biggest hole in their soles got the first new shoes.  We wore hand me downs if they were any to wear.  We were taken to the doctor and dentist also.  None of us got to go to college after high school, but some have gone as adults.  Most of the grandkids have at least 2 years of college.

My Dad worked for ALCOA aluminum for 35 years and retired with the same money he was making and insurance also.  He is in a resthome now and getting tired at 82 with arthartis so bad he can't feed himself...but his mind is good.  Mother still lives in the 4 bedroom / 2 bath house we moved into in '63.  My youngest sis and hubby are there with her now for what help she needs.  She still drives to take Dad to the doc

[barb]

Speaking of hitchhiking...

When I was a teenager living in London in the early 80's, a friend of mine and I used to hitchhike occasionally.  I even did it myself alone twice.  The second time I got a rude proposition which taught me a lesson.   

My boyfriend while in college used to hitchhike on weekends from Boston to SW Connecticut to visit me.  One of the last times he did it, a truck driver stopped, totally naked, and offered him a ride.  My bf (now my husband) wisely said no thank you.   

[Mikey]

...a truck driver stopped, totally naked, and offered him a ride.

Hey Barb.  Give the poor truck driver a break. He probably was just hot or maybe his pants were in the cleaners....