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You Should Have Been There
By Richard Norton AuthorHouse
Copyright © 2016 Richard Norton
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-5049-6451-7
CHAPTER 1
My formative years
I was born in the Detroit East Side General Hospital, one of the first babies born in that new hospital. My birth was one of the front age headlines in the Detroit News newspaper that day. It read: BEAUTY QUEEN NOW RULES NURSERY. A few years earlier my mother had won the title of the most beautiful teen in America.
I figure that was the equivalent of today's Miss Teen Age America. She was offered Hollywood contracts, but since she was dating my father his family had her reject the offers. The date of my birth was also auspicious as an anniversary of Custer's Massacre, June 25. It also happens to be the date the Korean War began. The ups and downs of my life have gone to extremes to this day, and therein lay all the stories. I was brought home from the hospital to where my parents lived. My father was an undertaker and worked for his father. Our Funeral Home was the largest and oldest in Detroit and had been started by my great grandfather. It wasn't far from downtown Detroit. Of course the first couple of years I have no memory of, but I do remember things about living there the next three years of my life. The Funeral Home had 4 floors. The first floor was for the kitchen and dining and large rooms for the funerals. The second floor was large bedrooms where the family members stayed. Each had it's own bath. The third floor had apartments and a dormitory for the hired help. The fourth floor was a dance and party hall. The house had an elevator, dumb waiter, front and back stairways. In the basement was the embalming room, billiard parlor, and laundry room. The garage was huge and attached to the house. It had a turntable so when the hearse was driven in to the turntable, it could be turned around so it could be driven out frontwards all the time. There was a fish pond in the lot adjacent to the house and it had a duct so the fish could come indoors to the indoor pond for the winter. When I could walk and get around by myself I was free to wander anywhere in the house. When I wandered into the garage, the men would let me stand on the turntable and they would give me like a Merry-go-round ride. I had a very happy time and got lots of love from everyone. We had a parrot in the kitchen, named Polly (of course), and I used to play around it. Even the parrot liked me and I could get closer than anyone. I'm surprised I can remember things from when I was only 3 or 4 years old. I remember lots of things before I was 9. I'll put a couple more in here. My mom divorced my dad and we went to live with my grandparents who were wonderful. I was too young to remember when this happened, but was told about it when I was in my teens. I fell down a flight of stairs in my walker as a baby. My face was smashed and my nose shoved over under one eye. I didn't get taken to a hospital or doctor. My grandmother just pushed my nose back where it belonged, but it was crooked for the rest of my life and I could never breathe through one nostril. Another story that my mother and grandmother often told was about me when I was around 4 years old. It's very short, but every time my grandmother or mother told it everyone would break up laughing. One time my mother was out and I was left with my grandmother. In the evenings my grandmother used to either crochet or read True Story magazine. When she read True Story magazine she always ate crackers with limburger cheese. One night my mother came home and found my grandmother sitting in a chair laughing her head off. She wasn't reading or anything and the radio wasn't even on. She was alone and laughing violently. My mother went to her, wondering what was so funny. My grandmother couldn't even speak she was laughing so hard. My mother kept asking what happened. My grandmother, still laughing, got up and pointed to the bathroom. They both went to the bathroom and there I was. I adored my grandmother and because she liked limburger cheese I wanted some too. They found me with my head over the toilet and a towel stuffed in my mouth and me trying to wipe out the limburger cheese. Then both of them laughed. I was so cute. We lived with them through my kindergarten year at the local school. Then mom got a new husband who didn't want any kids around. So my baby sister and I were boarded at a licensed boarding home run by a very mean couple. I was just in first grade and my sister only 4 years old. Being boarded at this home was like a cruelty scene from the movie ANNIE. I only had to walk a few hundred feet to get to the grade school. My little sister would sometimes toddle over the school to play in its big sandbox. We had no supervision except when we did something that the couple watching over us didn't like we'd get punished by making us hold our hands and arms over our heads until the pain was so great we couldn't take any more. We were not allowed in the bathroom to the toilet, but each kid had their own potty kept under our beds. Sometimes we would be locked in a closet with our potty as punishment. My sister and I would cry and scream when my parents came to visit. I won't mention other happenings here, but they loved punishing all of us kids and we seldom knew why. After a year or so, mom had us taken out of there and we were boarded with another family that was wonderful. The father in the family drove a truck for a casket company and had been delivering caskets to our funeral homes for years. That's how the families met. This made the third school I had to adapt to within 3 years. This family had a son that was 2 years older than me but we got along great, though he bullied me a bit at times because he was bigger than me. When we both grew up, he was much shorter than me and I could throw him in the pool. Their son eventually became my brother in law. Mom's husband that had us boarded out is one of the men who started the ORIGINAL PANCAKE HOUSE restaurants. Mom divorced him after a couple of years. Then I was sent to live with my father for a year at his new funeral home which was across the street from the largest school athletic field in the whole city of Detroit. I could run across the street and find other kids to play with. I was only 8 years old and in my 4th school. The grade school, intermediate school, and Northwestern High School were all located next to one another at this enormous playground. Often I would run across the street to the playground when men were playing baseball and I would chase the foul balls for them and throw the ball back into the game. I think that had a lot to do with my strong throwing arm when I grew and became a pitcher. My little sister went with mom back to my grandparents. That year was 1939, the year of the first Detroit race riots. From the windows of our school rooms we could watch the soldiers camped on our playground. Then my mother found another man and married him. At one time he had worked for my grandfather in the funeral home. He bought a newly built house in area of Detroit that was developing. My sister and I finally had a real home. It was a bungalow with only 2 bedrooms, but had a full attic and basement. Our new stepfather was very good to mom and us 2 kids. The local grade school was about 3/4 of a mile away and we walked to school every day, rain or shine. From the ages of 5 through 10 I had already gone to 5 different schools. This new school we had to attend was Detroit's experimental school where they would test all kinds of things to be used in the school system. So we were taught many things that were not in the usual grade school curriculum. In the 4th grade we were taught languages such as Spanish, French, and Latin. In gym class, not only did we do the usual gym things, but also the Olympic Decathalon sports and dancing. Imagine, being in grade school and taught to waltz, fox trot, western dancing, and tango. At the time, I accepted it as just normal schooling, but years later found that it put me way ahead of other kids when I got in high school. I was popular with the girls because I knew how to dance. Also I made the high school varsity baseball team when only a freshman. One big thing that was discovered about me was my artistic talent for drawing and painting. Through my grade school art teacher I was sponsored by the city of Detroit to take special training at the Detroit Art Museum. I guess I was some sort of prodigy. I attended that for a couple of years. In my spare time at the museum or before I left to go home, I would wander through the museum and enjoy everything it had to offer. That served well through many occupations I had throughout my life. Later in this book I talk more about my art and what I did with it. World War 2 broke out and I had gained 2 more sisters with my new stepfather. During the war my stepfather and mother both went to work in the factories to help the war effort. I had to take care of all my sisters, the baby still in diapers. That was a lot of responsibility for a boy only 10 to 14 years old, but I handled it. The knowledge did come in handy after I was married and had children of my own because I had to teach my wife those things.
My Uncle Ralph
When WW2 started I was 10 years old. Shortly after it started, my mother's brother enlisted in the Army Air Force. That's what it was called back then. My uncle Ralph was my hero as I grew up, mostly because of all the stories my grandfather would tell me about my uncle's baseball prowess. My uncle went to work for the Detroit Edison company right after high school. It was the only company he worked for all his life except for his military years. He had built his own radio when he was 9 years old and was a ham operator all his life. When I would visit him he'd let me sit in on his ham radio transmissions all over the world and let me talk to the person on the other end. That was thrilling for a little kid like me. He was 31 when he enlisted and was made a second lieutenant upon enlisting because of his radio knowledge Can you imagine someone with only a high school education being made an officer? I have pictures of me standing with him in hes uniform just before he was being shipped out to war against Japan. Again, bear in mind only a high school education. He taught himself anything he really wanted to learn. When he got to his place of assignment, he was put in charge of all communications in the South Pacific. Quite a feat for someone with only high schooling. I might mention we won that war. Now he was a hero to millions of people and not just me. The photograph here was taken just after the war ended and we were occupying Japan. He is standing next to Gen. Douglas MacArthur's car. His rank at that time was Lt. Col. Lots of promotions in only 4 years of service. When he left the service he went back with Detroit Edison. When TVs came out around 1948 or 1949, he was made head of all the TV departments. We were the first family in our area to have a TV. There wasn't much on TV back them. He used to take me with him sometimes, delivering TVs free to prominent people to promote the sale of TVs. Some were heavy and I could help him lift them. Then the Atomic age entered and he was put in charge of Public Relations at the Enrico Fermi atomic energy plant in Monroe, Michigan which had been just built. In all this he had the most pleasant personality of any human I have ever met. After he reached his 90s, he had heart problems and I pretty much watched over him until he passed. The World lost another great man. Too bad he didn't write a book. It would have been wonderful, with all he'd been through.
The Ford Willow Run bomber factory
I was 10 years old when WW2 started and lived not far from the Willow Run bomber factory. Willow Run is just outside of Detroit. My grandfather used to drive me out there to see the bombers waiting to leave. A Ford airplane ... AMAZING! Six months BEFORE Pearl Harbor was attacked! Henry Ford determined that he could mass produce bombers just as he had with cars, so he built the Willow Run plant in suburban Detroit, Michigan. It was the world's largest building under one roof at that time. Ford built one B-24 bomber every 55 minutes and had their own pilots to test them! I went there many times during the war. I knew the planes were built there, but didn't know how fantastic the factory was. I'd been through Ford's Lincoln car factory as a boy scout and as an adult engineer did a lot of work at the Ford factories in and around Detroit and in Windsor, Canada. One of my short stories is about going to the original Ford plant to check out some machines. A few other stories are about modeling and acting jobs I did for Ford at different locations. I even sold cars for Ford before becoming an actor/model and engineer.
My first paid job
When I was in grade school, one of my buddies was employed at Briggs Stadium in Detroit. The stadium was eventually renamed Tiger Stadium. He was batboy for the Tigers a few times, but normally worked in the concession stands mixing or filling drinks for the vendors. He was only 14 also. I envied him for having that job and being near the Tigers in a professional ballpark. He said I could get a job there too if I wanted. The baseball season was about over and school was about to begin in September, but even a week of employment would give me a few dollars and let me meet players. A kid could get a job if he had working papers that were available when the he or she reached 14 years old. So I got working papers and went with my buddy to work and did whatever told to do in the concession stands. It was my very first job. I spent much time with a canoe paddle mixing "bug juice", their name for the orangeade. On the last day of the regular season I went out near the end of the game to watch the ending. The Tigers were losing but had 3 men on base with 2 outs in the last half of the ninth inning. Hank Greenberg was at bat and had the full count against him and then hit a grand slam home run to win the game and the American League pennant. What a thrill being so lucky to see that happen. The Tigers went on to win the World Series. I never went back to work at the stadium, but went often as a spectator. Sixty years went by and TV news was showing my old friend retiring from working at the stadium. He had spent all his working years there and ended up being in charge of all the concessions.
Salt mine under and around Detroit
I was born in Detroit and lived there until 1946 when my family moved 12 miles N of Detroit to the small city of Utica. It was mostly an area with truck farms. A truck farm is just a small farm, usually 40 acres or so, and the farmers took their produce to the market in Detroit when it was ripe. The house we bought had been the caddy house that was moved to our 2 acre lot from a former golf course across the road . I knew Detroit had a vast salt mine under the city and part of the suburbs and often saw photos taken down there. The homes and farms where we moved to needed wells for water and many of the homes could get only salt water for the everyday use because of salt veins running through their property. We were lucky to have excellent pure water from our well. One summer my grandparents decided we should dig a larger well. We lived with my grandparents all through my high school years. They didn't hire a company to dig it, but got me and other family males to do the labor. I was the smallest, so I spent a lot of time in the bottom of the deep well hole digging and shoveling the earth into a pail for someone to haul out. I was slim and could work down in the hole only 4 feet in diameter. That was the largest of the wells I ever helped dig. It was everything we hoped it would be and we had all the pure clean water we wanted. Because of the salt availability, in a snowy winter we always had salt trucks melting the snow, so it was rare that snow or ice stopped any traffic. The worst thing was that all the salt on the roads could and would rust out our cars. Undercoating to shield our cars from the salt was a big business and I had it done to several of my cars. Moving to Florida in 1980 saved me from continuing doing that. From the article I just read regarding the Detroit salt mine, I learned the salt mine under Detroit had ceased operation in 1983.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from You Should Have Been There by Richard Norton. Copyright © 2016 Richard Norton. Excerpted by permission of AuthorHouse.
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