Sister Sharon came along in my third year; she never met an animal she didn’t like! Amen!
In my 5th year of “tromping” and
“trampling” around within my very limited world, kid-Brother John was born. By then I had become a
diehard fan of holy-sacred “Baseball”
listening to the few games that were broadcast on radio. Games weren’t
televised back then; we didn’t have a T.V. until I was seven years old. It was
a tiny-screen (7”) black and white table unit with only 3 stations. News
coverage was Great! Media had not yet
been socialized to communism!?
My very “Good” friend, who I secretly worshipped,
and who did so much greater “Good”
for me than I could ever return, Ole Santa
Claus, had brought me a brand-new Rawlings
three-fingered (my two middle fingers went into the center hole) real-leather fielders baseball glove! Wow! Just like the “big” leaguers used! This
treasure was no “kid’” play toy! Great!
The first time I tried it on, Christmas Eve, I put it on my right hand
and it seemed awkward; it was, very. Dad
laughed, in a kindly manner, and took it off the wrong hand and properly placing it on my left and. “You catch the
ball in this hand with the glove;” he explained, making motions in the air to
show me by example, “that leaves your right hand free for throwing.” Thanks! Dad!
Well! Armed with a Major League real leather ball glove and a rubber ball but “trapped” in the house because of winter-weather, I utilized my prized glove by tossing that rubber ball against the wall in the bed room. I’d listen to the radio broadcast as I “pretended” to be on the playing field with the “big” guys winning games for the St. Louis Cardinals! I once heard Dad complain to Mom that I was going to crack the plaster wall; she said it’d be okay! Thanks! Mom!
(Part 3 Tomorrow)
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