Time to continue with one more of my Dad's true stories. We were talking the other night...and my Mother was quit upset that my Father tells these stories. I am not sure what the reason is for that. It might be embarrassment, it might be shame...it might be because my Mother's life was very opposite of my Dad's. She was in a very solid family. Not rich, but not depression poor either. My Mother's tales are for another day.
When I was 13...Growing up in Bayone...there was a gang of boys that I hung out with. It was the early 40's and things were very unstable around the world. Living in Bayonne, the rest of the world felt very far away. Basically we did what gangs did in those days. No one really had much money, so we hung out. Talk, look at girls, and basically were bums. I look at movies that depict boys of that time...and...I say to myself...”Hey! that's me!”
Well, as a gang we were a typical gang. We considered our elves hip even though there was nothing extra-ordinary about us. We were all friends and we liked each other, that at the time is all that counted. There was a boy, everyone called him Porky because....yes...he was a tad overweight. Porky was not only overweight...he was very short. Because of these reasons, Porky was always an outsider. A wannabe. He wanted to be part of our clique. Our Gang. Always on the fringe, Porky would do whatever he could to be accepted. Today when I look back, I am not sure why he really never did fit. It must be the curse that some children receive. Tagged an outsider whether they deserve it or not.
Well, in Porky's bid to be accepted one of the things he would always do is be very verbal. He would announce regularly how much he hated Bayonne. How boring life was, how stupid his parents were. Basically he would grumble and complain hoping that it would gain his acceptance into our group. It never worked.
I guess one of the things that set Porky and us apart was...money. His family had no wants. He was well groomed with perfect hair. Probably parted by his Mother ever day. His Mother's control was evidenced in his demeanor, and now that is what I recall really set him apart. A tough place for a 13 year old boy to be. Especially when all he wants is to be just “one of the guys.“ Able to fish and talk and not feel any pressure to impress others.
One day, it was just Porky and myself and and he was doing his routine grumbling. Well, Porky was feeling extremely brave and during his routine he asks,”John, lets leave this place. Lets get on a bus and go. Wherever we end up we can get a room and find some jobs, and make our own way. We can get away from this place.” Well, at the time it sounded goo to me...so...we boarded a made our way to Jersey City and caught a Greyhound to a place that we thought sounded real adventurous......
Note: This is the cliffhanger. :P Pt 2 soon to come........plus....
Future advertisment.... My Dad's venture into the Army, at the age of 16 soon to come. Out of the Depression and into the Fire.