Childhood Memories

How far back do your earliest memories go? Speaking for the author of this tome, my first days of recall were at Lake Skaneatlas, one of the New York state finger lakes, when we walked up some stone steps to cottage. That's all I remember about that but it was confirmed later that I was 3 at the time. Not bad for a guy that now has trouble remembering yesterday. Ah, the vestiges of time. I remember too, driving down this road that was filled with deep mud from tire tracks and we had trouble keep our old car from skidding to a halt. It was Warwick Avenue, our first home and I may have been 4 this time. We lived at 347 until I was 12 and I remember my Dad finishing our home . My Dad could do anything including sewing clothing for we three boys.I don't recall what the year may have been but a cannon was our 4th of July activity. We loaded it with gunpowder? and it made the loudest bang of any firecracker then available and it was wonderful. That sure woke up the neighbors!! Those days were the beginning of my dreams of a baseball career which never took place. Things like a war and marriage (not related) occurred. We played almost continuouslyfrom May through September in a a field that was strewn with rocks, glass, and other things that made sliding into a base prohibited. Those were some happy days. We weren't aware of the Depression days surrounding us. We were kids and Mom always had some form of food on the table butI took a lot of peanut butter sandwiches to school with me. And to think that today the schools offer a varied menu from which the little darlings can make a selection.

However, Christmas time is what I recall most. My dad always waited until Christmas Eve to buy our Christmas tree because they would be marked down to $1.00 and then he would spend a few hours with us helping to put on the lights and ornaments. It was not like to-day's tree in their glimmering white or blue or some colors not even describable. We always had to go to bed early because Santa would be there any minute. My younger brother Burt and I slept in the same bed and I used to have to hold him in bed from VERY early in the morning because "Santa may not have come to our house yet and we don't want to bother him". The real reason, of which we weren't aware, was that Dad was still painting the soldiers or cowboys or Hussars he had molded from the melted lead in the basement I later found out that many nights after he returned from his night job, he would go downstairs and light the stove and put on the heavy bowl in which he melted his bars of lead. Then he would arrange them in full battle dress in a regimental charge. I think he loved Christmas more than we did. Somehow our Christmases were always joyful and we always got what we wanted. Of course what we wanted were things like a yo-yo not an Intendo or fishing rod instead of an Ipod. Yes, things were different way back then.

But one thing has stayed the same. It is the celebration of the birth of our Savior. It is a time to remember that the Christ child, depicted as having been born in a barn, reigns as our Lord and Master. He stands at the head of our church and is above all the commotion that too many people think of when they think of Christmas. These days are the Holiest of Days and that knowledge is one that I will take to my grave attesting to it's truthfulness. The memories of my childhood are with me forever but as an adult I know the true meaning of this time of the year. In the words of Tiny Tim,"God bless us everyone".

A Matter of Application

The economic world surrounding these days is in a state of chaos with stock brokers in all companies looking at each other and saying, with questioning looks,"Whats going on?"but I recall a day in my young life that I asked myself that same question. The war was one of the things that was going on and it was of monumental importance. I was only 18 at that time and had secured a position as a time keeper in a war production plant. It was a converted Chevy plant that was now making airplane engines. I had been hired for a 4:00 to midnight shift and had the responsibility of walking the floor with my clipboard and verifying that all the men I checked on had printed out their time cards and were, indeed, working. No one was to print out some one else's time card to indicate they were there when they weren't. I was the keeper of the gate and a position of power was mine. Somehow the word got back to the manager of the time crew that I was all finished with my work by 8:00 P.M.--only a half of my shift. How could this be? Did I actually do my job of verifying every one's presence? "Yes I did", say I with emphasis. So for my diligence, I was moved from 4:00 to 8:00 and could now follow the process to do the 2nd shift and the 3rd shift by working from 8:00 until 4:00 A.M. doubling my efforts now to accomplish greater efficiency. I was a hotdog and was recognized for the speed with which I accomplished this feat. My walk around the very large plant was to identify each man at his post and this is where a matter of application entered the picture. Practically every man working there was Polish with names of multiple syllables. i.e. Wasikowski 846927 was at his machine. There was Bunteshefski 845466 and Oh yes, I could see Bilitnikoski 844271 and so it went . I no longer had to go up to the individuals and ask them their name and their number to make sure they were on my records and therefore were working. I was learning the hundred or so men on the two shifts by merely working down the center of the plant and spot the workers as I walked. Some of the men didn't trust my eyesight or my knowledge and would leave their machine and come running after me and say "Did you get me?" "Yes, you are Eddy Paderschefski 847912". This would bring a look of consternation to his face and he would go back to his machine. And so it went with me committing to memory all these men with their difficult names let alone their numbers. Many times when I would be walking down the street I would see a man and say to Louise, "Oh there's Bill Kazanofski 845622," and she would look at me as though I was nuts. Getting back to the confusion in our economic world and the questions on who do we bail out by giving them government money, there are a lot of arguments concerning the big three- --the auto industries. I heard Michael Savage one night and he made a profound statement of vast importance. He said, "These car industries were of tremendous value when our war with Japan took place. They were the businesses that were able to, almost immediately, go into a war time mode and gear up for the huge production of war time equipment that allowed us to become the major nation that we were intended to be". The sleeping giant had, indeed, wakened! That is a major factor in what may lie ahead of us. Will we be involved in another major conflict? Quite possibly!! Where will our facilities be when we need them? Gone: Because we didn't assist them in our economic problems? It is a dilemma that can't be under estimated. I hope that our men in power will think of that in their various machinations. What does that have to do with my memorizing all those Polish names? Probably nothing except it made me realize that I was no longer in high school, just sliding by, I was now in a position where I had to think and it became a matter of application. I hope all these men chosen to lead our country out from this chaos are applying their thought processes as well.

DON'T LOSE A PIECE

It seemed as though I went from puberty to marriage with a war in between. Does that sound unrealistic? Well listen to more of the same. Back during the thirties I became aware that I would graduate from High School at age 16. It's not that I was so smart, contrary, intelligence was not one of my long suits. Actually, I think my Mom faked my age so she could be rid of me and get some rest. As a result of this dilemma, I decided to take another year and graduate at 17.
There were very few jobs around and we had no money for college, so it was a proper decision with those conditions prevailing at that time. I even took another 6 months of post-graduate school so I wouldn't have to go to work. First of all that's a four letter word and I try to avoid words of that nature. I also didn't like to work any week that had a Tuesday in it. (Old joke).

The fact is I wanted to play baseball and would have spent the entire year at the school except the baseball coach came up to me one day and said, "Winspear, I under stand this is your 5th year." I said, "Thats right coach, and I'm still only 16." He replied, "Hells Bells kid, you can't play ball in your 5th year. I don't care how old you are." So much for dreams of a baseball career They finally asked me to leave school because I had exhausted every possible subject that was of an academic nature, and how many years of chorus and dramatics can you take?

Having no alternatives, I went job hunting. You need to remember jobs were not plentiful in those days, but with my outstanding acdemic background, I was able to get a job as an office boy. However, it was about this time that the rumors of war were prevelant and "defense jobs" were becoming available. I soon found greener pastures elsewhere. __I never did understand that expression. I rarely eat grass and from things I had heard, I certainly wasn't going to smoke it.

Well, suddenly Pearl Harbor happened and for a short time I allowed my patriotic fervor to overcome my natural sense of cowardice and I enlisted in the Navy Air Corp. I spent the next three years fighting the battles of Pensacola and Jacksonville and various other engagements of which only the elderly might be aware. During the last year and after skillfully avoiding any semblance of dangerous duty, I found myself in a wedding procession with me in the lead role. (A natural for me considering my five and one half years of dramatic training). Would you believe there were so few men left at home that I didn't even know members of my wedding party. (True) I wouldn't change one moment of my earlier days---they were great!

But God makes a great big jigsaw puzzle out of each of our lives and we face the question of placing each piece in its proper place. We have the privilege of making each day another perfect fit in our own personal jigsaw puzzle. Being the masters of our destiny, ours is the right to make the correct decisions. With our ever growing knowledge that God will help us make the proper placement, we can create a beautiful play with ourselves as the main characters in this drama. Make the correct decision regarding your lives and you will never lose a piece.

MY BEST FRIEND

I have spoken before about the good friends that I have been fortunate enough to have but of them all, Nick is really my best friend. It all happened on a tennis court playing with Paul. It seemed each week when we scheduled our game we were placed on the court adjacent to two other guys. After several weeks in which we were friendly enough to exchange greetings, one of them came to my locker row and asked, "How much tennis are you playing"? I replied, "only once a week". He then said, "well, my name is Nick Camm and I would like to play once a week with you". To make a long story somewhat shorter, I agreed and we began to play. Now as it turned out, I found his favorite expression after I hit the ball was to shout "OUT"! It became my favorite jibe at him on many occasions. Of course the ball wasn't out. It could be in the middle of the court and if he knew he couldn't return it---- "OUT"!

He turned out to be a very friendly person with a great sense of humor who laughed at almost everything I said. I could have said "I have a large boil on my butt" and he would think it hilarious. But that was his personality. Everything was funny to him. He became my best audience for my humor and my jokes. As a matter of fact, I could tell him a joke and he would laugh. I could tell him the same story two days later and he would laugh some more as though he had never heard the joke. Either I was a poor teller of tales, or he had a bad memory or maybe he just liked to laugh. I think that was the case and I went on telling stories and he kept laughing. He and I and two other guys also played golf, and Nick, who was older than the rest of us would tee off from the Ladies tee. He would also put a tee in the ground each time he hit the ball except of course on the green. It was a constant time of ragging on each other with Nick catching most of the flak. He loved it. He used to brag that he had shot an 80 at a tournament on a different course which, with his handicap gave him a net 60. Of course it was the low score of the day. We never accepted that as a fact. We just kept saying, "You never shot an 80 in your life".

One day he even found the score card from that tournament and we said, "No way! You went to the course and got one of their cards and faked your score." It drove him crazy but he laughed at all of our digging and was fun to play with. He had a habit which drove me nuts, to go up to people he didn't know and they instantly started laughing. What did he say? Who knows? But they were laughing. I was saying, "C'mon Nick lets go", but he never paid any attention to me. He was on center stage and he was milking it for all he could get. Nick would go up to people in a theater and ask if he could have their popcorn and they laughed and offered it to him.

I could go on a long time talking about my best friend. He was a Jew and the two of us made an interesting couple. The Jew and the Mormon! But Nick is no longer the man he was. He is living in a facility and stays in his room and naps or watches TV. The man was the most gregarious person I have ever known. He only laughs when I call him, and when he does I laugh with him. I miss him a lot and always go get him when I go back to Minnesota and we enjoy our relationship. He is 93 now and the spark he once had is fading, but each time I call him when I hang up I always give him one more shout "OUT' and he laughs!!

NO FINER MAN

It has been my privilege to know many fine men during my activity in our church but none have been finer than the man I came to recognize as my mentor. My first real acquaintance was when, at the eve of a conference, he had Louise and I meet him at his office. He was the of head our multi-unit (Stake) and he asked that I become his clerk. At that time my experience in the church was somewhat limited and I asked what my duties would entail. After his explanation, I replied, "I can't type and my hand writing is terrible. I have little or no knowledge of accounting and my church experience is quite limited, but if none of that bothers you, I'll take the job". His reply was a phrase I came to use often in some of my other positions ---"Well, look at all you will be able to learn". He was obviously a more skilled negotiator than was I.

Strangely, it was in a club shower room that I came to know him very well. I was giving up racquet ball and had decided to learn to play tennis and when I mentioned this to him, he said "I'll be glad to play tennis with you". That was the beginning of a friendship that went on for several years and we played tennis every week over that period. During some of my later positions in the church he and I would sit following our game and I would tell him of some of the obstacles I was facing He would advise me on possible solutions. This was a practice that lasted for a long time. It was during these and other meetings in which I was included that I came to fully appreciate his leadership qualities.

I knew him as a friend but under certain conditions he came forth as a man of deep devotion to his position as a leader of his large group of congregations. I would sit in these meetings taking minutes and was rewarded with getting to know the other two councilors that were his associates, Everette Manwaring and Alan Anderson. The three of them were magnificent in their endeavors to lead the aforementioned congregations and I was the recipient of their combined knowledge and efforts. These qualities brought about an organization that remained unequaled for many years, In particular, Paul Wilson led with a calm, experienced hand. He was a man of honesty, integrity and industry. He had a love of his family that, while his demeanor was sometimes very reserved, was the catalyst that allowed him to be such a great leader. To some, less knowledgeable of these qualities than was I, he may have appeared almost embarrassed to stand forth as the head of this large group of congregations, but to those of us who had come to know him, he was admired and respected. I am honored to call Paul Wilson my friend and my mentor as well as my spiritual leader. I have known and been acquainted with many men having most of the qualities mentioned before, but in my estimation there was no finer man than President Paul Wilson.

Do I or Do I not

Back in the late 80's, I was called to be a Bishop in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints--most often simply called the Mormons. This was quite a demanding but a very rewarding position. Most of the wards (congregations) were in the suburbs but because my ward met in the city of Minneapolis, it was decided to also call me to be the "Transient Bishop". That meant all those new to the city who called for some assistance were referred to me and I would determine what kind of assistance they would receive. My telephone rang a lot!

To determine the extent of help we (the church) would ask questions like "What ward are you from? Who is your Bishop?" If I got an answer to either of those questions I would call that Bishop to determine whether to assist. In truth, most of the time the caller didn't know what ward he or she was from or who the Bishop was and I knew I was dealing with an inactive member or quite possibly not a member. Was this a person trying to milk the system? Many times the answer to that last question was--- yes. I was close to the Bus Station and therefore it made sense to assign this calling to a person best suited to handle the transient persons coming into town. As I said before, I received a lot of phone calls in the 7 years I had this assignment.

Unfortunately most of the calls, as they were screened, were from callers trying to get a free ride and when I asked pertinent questions they realized I was not going to assist them without some basis of their standing in the church records. Many times I purchased a lot of tanks of gas or bags of groceries and sent them on their way. To some however, it may have meant paying the first and last months rent for an apartment they were planning to rent. Obviously this called for something more than a phone call.

I remember one woman who pleaded with me to help her and her three kids. The landlord was waiting for my affirmation and he would know that the church was a secure risk and would therefor proceed with the rental. After doing more than accept the word of this unknown person, it turned out she had 7 children not the 3 she had told the landlord. She also was an inactive member and could not give the name of someone who would recommend her. I was sorry but it was apparently necessary to refuse her the help she needed.

Decisions of when to help and when not to were the most difficult problems I faced during that 7 years. But sometimes the person calling, when realizing I would not be a patsy would just hang up thus making my decision easier. I recall one young sounding woman after being asked pertinent questions merely said "Oh take a hike." I loved it!! She just wanted a handout but wasn't going to be pinned down. Louise would take the calls many times and had become quite learned in the ways to interview the callers. One, when asked his position in the church, the query from Louise was "Are you a Seventy?" ( this was a standard calling some members had at that time) The caller replied "I am about a Sixty". There is no such calling in the church and of course this person was not in a position to receive some assistance. And thus it was for the several years I had this calling---do I help or do I not. I have many times asked myself, what would the Savior do? That only complicated my resolve more and the dilemmas were many. I had the authority to spend church's money in any way I felt reasonable. Ah yes, but what was reasonable? That was the question, and for the years it was my responsibility to make those decisions, every situation was different and those difficulties were never simple. Judging the goodness of people has never been easy, but as the only judge, I was continuously faced with "do I or do I not"? I never found the answer!

THE FLIGHT OF AN EGO

I had previously written that my store was going out of business and I was in the process of being granted interviews by various prospective employers. One of these would be with a gentleman from Lincoln, Nebraska. I knew little about the retail picture in that city but an interview was not to be over looked so I presented myself at the appointed time at his hotel in New York City. He greeted me saying, "Mr. Winspear I have nothing to offer you but I agreed to this time so that possibly the interview experience might be of some future value". I smiled and said, "I am pleased to meet with you". We went into his suite and sitting on opposite couches began to talk. We spent well over an hour in which he asked questions about my retail buying philosophies, my knowledge of the present menswear market and my other thoughts of things in general. It was an easy, informal discussion with me doing a lot of the talking. As I was departing he asked me to give him some references of manufacturers with whom I was acquainted. I mentioned three or four, including Munsingwear--my major underwear supplier at the store for which I had worked prior to its demise.

I returned to my hotel and hurried through my entry hearing my phone ringing. It was the office of Munsingwear and an acquaintance of mine, again from my previous store, stated, "Jim that's a wonderful job you are being offered by ....", and he named the person with whom I had just interviewed. I replied "What job? I wasn't offered a job". My friend Curt, then went on to say, "When I took the call at the office a Bob Gold told me he was the president of a company in Lincoln and he had just finished speaking with a Mr. Winspear. How well did I know Jim"? Curt replied, I told him I had known you for several years and that you were a man of integrity and a hard, productive worker. At this point he went on to tell me Mr. Gold is planning on hiring you as his administrative assistant to assist him in running his store. Curt concluded by congratulating me on my new position. I hung up rather confused because there had not been one indication of any opportunity in his business.

While mulling this over the phone rang again and a voice said, "Jim this is Bob Gold and I would like to offer you a position in my company as my personal assistant. Please give this some priority in your other interviews as I am very serious"! I was a bit numb at this point but he further stated he was headed for the Cayman Islands but would contact me immediately on his return to conclude his offer with the minor details, such as moving my family, salary and other inconsequentials.

I was still numb and wondered how all this had come about when I finally realized that I, Jim Winspear, had taken a guy who said he had nothing to offer me to a point that he now wanted me to assist him in managing his company. And that's when my ego soared to a height never before imagined. I thought to myself, "Damn!! Jim, you are good"!! Well, after bathing myself in accolades and expressions of wonder, I came to earth and knew I would be on pins and needles waiting to hear the conclusion he would present to me the following week. To return to my normal posture of allowing me to refer to myself as "Mr. Wonderful", the following week I did receive a phone call from him and I became rather deflated when he told me he had to take back his offer. It appeared he was the president, but his father was the chairman and had sold the store while he was on vacation. Weird? Outlandish? Unreal? Yes, all of the above. And so I never went to Lincoln and I never was to be an assistant to the president. But they can't take away the time I always remembered as my flight to that incredible high I never before thought to be attainable. I had talked him into it!!!

SOME OF MY BEST FRIENDS

After leaving the military, I became a menswear Maven. That's a Jewish expression for "expert". Oh, it didn't happen all at once, but as some time passed it became apparent I was destined to be in Men's clothing in one form or another. But that is not the story I want to talk about at this time. My story is my relationship with the Jewish people. As I became a buyer of Menswear, I quickly was closely tied to various Jews. That was the business they were in and I soon got to know Sid, Manny, Charlie and Hoybie. (That's N.Y. for Herbie) That is only a few I grew to like and with whom I did business. There really isn't much difference between a New York Jew and a mid-western Jew except in a form of speech or other mannerisms that we all have. Example: I invited a young man in my Wisconsin store to come and look at a certain vendor's neck wear. He demurred, saying, "I don't like him. He's a New York Jew". Now Danny is Jewish and so this surprised me but I went on to say I needed some help in making a selection. I really didn't, but it was a means of encouraging him and to allow him to see the geographical difference is minor. To shorten the story, several weeks later, when this particular vendor was due back in my store, I mentioned to Danny that he was coming back and I now was surprised to hear him say, "Yes I know. He is staying at my home while he is here". So from --I don't like him, to having him in your home was certainly a quick transition. And that was the big difference; you had to get to know them. Isn't this true of all people?
However I want to speak mostly of Herbie. He was not only a character in many ways but he was one of the best friends I could ever hope to have. When my store was announced it was gong out of business. Herbie was on the phone to me saying, "I don't want you to worry. I will hire you right now selling ties and I will pay you what you are being paid at your present job". Did that alleviate some distress on my part? Well, yes, but only because of his generosity and his concern. I was very confident I could get another job. Over the years I have received phone calls from Herbie about every 8 or 9 weeks. In all of those he has asked me to go to work for him and I have resisted, saying, "Herbie you are a friend of mine. If I go to work for you, we can't be friends". His attitude and the questions of all those and others as mentioned above, was typical. Were they concerned, they would no longer be able to do business with me. In part, yes but basically I was their friend and they were mine. After being terminated from my position at a major menswear business, Herbie was on the phone saying, "Come work for me". While I again resisted, in a year, without having been interviewed, I finally broke down when he said, "Jim, I need you. My CEO just left me and I need someone with your experience and stature". And so I went to work for Herbie but that's a story for another day. To summarize this tale , I still get a call from Herbie asking how I feel ? Do I need anything? While it is now more like every three months he calls, yet the bond of friendship was not lessened when I worked for him and it has continued through these many years. I pick up the phone and say hello and hear "Hi, its Hoybie"

A MATTER OF INTEGRITY

A number of years ago, the department store for which I had worked for thirteen years had announced it was going out of business and it was a blow to all the employees as well as a large number of our customers. We had been in the city of Buffalo, N.Y. for over 100 years. As a buyer of the largest menswear department in the city, I had many offers for positions elsewhere. Among the jobs I considered was in a Baltimore store called Stewarts. I had gone down there to be interviewed by a Mr. Davidoff. I entered his office at the appointed time and we exchanged handshakes. He explained he had to go to a meeting and asked me to look over other men's departments in the downtown area and come back with my opinion. I did so and returning, boldly stated "You don't have any strong menswear here in the city" He was surprised but I told him the reason for my bluntness. "There are three very strong pieces of apparel in the men's market at this time and they are etc" The result of me voicing this opinion impressed him and he offered me a job. I was to be hired to buy only the sportswear half of their present department and the current buyer, a man I knew from market conventions, would continue to buy only the furnishings. That, in part, consisted of the underwear, pajamas, hosiery and such. I explained I was very impressed with the opportunity but would like to first see other offers that had been made but I would give him my answer by December 5. We were in the heart of our Christmas business and I also felt an obligation to still do the best possible for my present employer. That may sound too charitable considering we were to be out of a job in the near future. However, the store had been good to me and that was my attitude in spite of what the future had to offer. About three weeks passed and on the 5th of December, I received a call from Mr Davidoff asking if I was ready to join the Stewart Company. I hesitated for a few moments and then said,"Mr Davidoff, I have been thinking about your offer and am sorry, but, I don't think this job is for me." He was surprised, as my former reaction had been quite positive. I went on to say, "I know your present buyer and he is a nice man. I can't see myself working along side of him, going to market, going to lunch with him, possibly being in his home and knowing that if I prove to be as competent as you think I will be, you will dismiss him and give me the entire department". There was few seconds of silence and he agreed that is what would take place. He then went on to say "So what. If its not you it will be someone else". I then said,"I guess I'm an altruist. Let it be someone else. That's not my style. I can't work like that knowing I will be putting a knife in a friend of mine"!! As it turned out, I took a position with a company in Wisconsin and the three years that followed were the best years my family ever enjoyed. Was I blessed in some way for what I considered the honorable thing to do? I don't know. But it sure had a happy ending!

A CLEANER WINDSHIELD

There is a two lane road that links the New York State Freeway (never knew why it was called Free-way?), and the Ohio Turnpike and we were on it at 6:00 A.M. on our way to Utah with our family. These were the days when station wagons were the Suv' s of today and Louise and the two girls were sleeping in the back on my sponge rubber mattress. Rand, age 8 was in the passenger seat and Joel, age 3 was standing between us. I was driving madly down this empty road trying to be in the Cleveland area by early morning. As a result, my attention was concentrated on driving fast with eyes only on the road. At this time, Joel the younger, chose to announce "I have to pee-pee". Loathe to waste any time, a particularly strong foible of mine, you know, you can only go to the John when we stop for gas, type of attitude. I responded without taking my eyes off the road,"Rand, get the mayonnaise jar out from beneath the seat". After it's procurement, Joel begins to dutifully urinate into the jar all the while standing on the seat. Obviously these were days before seat belts were in order. I am still proceeding at a fast rate when Rand complains "Dad, its getting near the top". Taking a quick glance I reply, with confidence, "Oh that little guy can't fill that jar". For some unknown reason, Rand begins to lift the jar as though that will shut off the water flow and as it gets higher, Joel's little penis is being lifted over the top of the jar. Fire hoses are known not to have as much pressure as Joel had developed and not only is there a pressurized stream flying over the top of the jar, and not only is the stream, flying over the dashboard, it is hitting the inside of the windshield with a vengeance. Water is cascading down the glass and flowing over the dashboard and I am collapsing with the humor of the situation. Oh for a video camera. Here we are in the quiet of the early morning, with the only noise emanating from the car's engine, except in the cars interior there is the distinctive noise made by lawn sprinklers. I have lived these many years but the recollection of that bit of hilarity has never left my memory and sadly, Louise was never witness to it. But look on the bright side. I have had continuous laughter that has lasted a life time, plus I had a sparkling, clear windshield.

MOYNSIE #2

About a year ago I wrote a post about Jim Moynihan, a Catholic character and my best friend. Why was he my best friend? Good question. He had a fascination for irritating others. His cynical nature was always at the top of his personality and, as I said before, he managed to alienate the 5 other couples that comprised our social group. He was left with me, his circle of friend.

I used that sarcasm when he and Kay arrived late one night and he stated he had hurt the feelings of one of our couples. He took great delight in admitting this. All the things I have mentioned makes one stop and wonder, "And he was your best friend"? Strangely he was, and I previously stated that I loved him. So therein lies a question not easily answered. I guess if I had to sum it up, it lies in his great sense of humor and my ability to be almost equally amusing whenever we were together. His family moved at the end of the same street where we had purchased our first home. I would look down to the end of the street and if I saw cars I would call him and pretend to be hurt because we hadn't been invited. It was part of the act we put on.

He was the master of conflict of interests. He had graduated law school --2nd in his class I might add, (his brother was first) and was working for an insurance company as an adjuster. He would go to the scenes of automobile accidents and give his card to both parties and in many cases act as the attorney for both of the principles. As a result he became quite wealthy very rapidly. Unsavory and unreal ? Yes, but the two different insurance companies never caught on for a period of time sufficient for him to not only make a lot of money but to build a client base that went on forever. Conflict of interest ? Of course!! That demonstrates somewhat of a nefarious character, but you must admit it also speaks to an effective result. It was not against the law, but somewhat the crossing of a thin line.

As to his humor he was at his peak at about 5:30 in the morning and I have never known anyone that was instantly funny as he rose from his bed. The times I stayed overnight or that we traveled together made for deliciously humorous mornings. As an illustration of his wit, we played golf one day and acting the part of a pawn, I mentioned to him when I saw a white round piece of dog poop. I pretended to act as though it was my ball and we both laughed. That evening after dinner at his home with the foursome that played and their wives, he parlayed my white (?) ball into a full blown dissertation about how dumb I had to have been to think that was my golf ball. It went on for a full 10 minutes while he extolled the humor of the situation. I could go on a long time about his questionable virtues but suffice it to say I was the butt of many of his remarks. But I gave as good as I got and in the end that was what he enjoyed. Trying not to patronize myself it was this that set me apart from other people he met. and it was this that solidified our friendship. We fed off of each other and it sure made for fun times when we were together.

He died of pancreatic cancer in South Carolina where he had retired following his divorce from Kay. I had a call one night from his second wife and she said, "If you want to see him you had better get here quick". I arrived that night fairly late and the hospital was dark and quiet. As I entered his room he was awake and in his inimitable manner said to me, "Can you imagine all this fuss over a hang nail". I guess he epitomized the phrase "Always leave them laughing" and while I laugh at the thought of him, there is a lump in my throat for what we could have shared these many years he has been gone. Moynsie, my faith tells me we will share some other times in another chapter. The book on the two of us is not yet closed. Be well my friend.

WORDS OF WONDER

In the wintry days of Minnesota, we were fortunate enough to have two weeks in a lovely beach front condo at St. Augustine, Florida and we were returning from our days in the sun when we stopped at a motel outside of Cleveland, Ohio. For some reason I was feeling somewhat ill and as the evening proceeded, I had some weird feelings I couldn't remember ever having before. I couldn't put a label on what was wrong but along about 11:00 I was on the verge of calling the front desk and telling them I wanted an ambulance. However, I withstood this urge and finally went to sleep somewhere in the wee hours. My feelings had not disappeared but sleep over came me and I awoke the next morning with the affliction having disappeared. We continued on our way towards Minneapolis but I wanted to talk about the lesson I had learned the previous evening. So I said to Louise. "Honey you know I was feeling pretty bad last night and came close to calling for an ambulance". She didn't say anything by way of a reply and I continued, "You need to know what to do if I should have a heart attack". This time she replied, "I don't want to talk about it"! I was somewhat stunned by what I considered a cavalier attitude about a most serious subject. I am now a bit irritated and tried to introduce some words that might dispel that attitude by saying, "Hey honey, this might be a matter of life or death". I then added a little emphasis by saying "MY life or death "!!! Without looking at me she again added her own emphasis, "I don't want to talk about it". I said, "Do you mean that if I am lying on the floor of our living room in the throes of chest pains you plan on sitting there watching me not knowing what to do"?? She quietly once again stated "I don't want to talk about it". And that ended that conversation, but I have worked hard to have a heart attack. I think I deserve one and have always been befuddled by her lack of response knowing that when I have it, she will not know what to do. Fortunately, I am now well beyond that conversation but as the melody lingers on I recall her words of wonder.

INVICTUS

In the long ago days of my youth, the high school I attended in Buffalo N.Y. had assemblies every week and one of the highlights of that was group singing. All of those students assembled would join in various songs. I remember "The Bells of St. Marys " is one we sang with much gusto, but the one that has been a part of my being is a poem by Edgar Allen Poe that had been set to music. To help my readers better understand where I am going with this, I have to write it out although not in stanza form. Here goes:

"Out of the night that covers me, Black as a pit from pole to pole, I thank whatever Gods may be, for my unconquerable soul. In the fell clutch of circumstance, I have not winced or cried aloud, Under the bludgeoning of chance, my head is bloody but unbowed. It matters not how strait the gate, how charged with punishment the scroll, I am the master of my fate. I am the captain of my soul".

That sounds a little heavy for a bunch of high school students but as I said, we made a lot of noise singing that. But to explain the reason I am writing this is, in a manner of speaking, that has been my mantra throughout my life. I know that sounds as though I am patronizing myself, but I, seriously, tried to keep my life in control at all times. I adopted that thinking when I was in the Navy and faced some difficult times. Remaining confident of my abilities, helped me to overcome some of those times. I always told myself that during the most trying of days, everything would work out for the best. No matter how dark the situation, there would be the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel. I'm sure old Edgar never thought of the manner in which I adopted his poem but it worked for me and I have remembered his words for sixty-eight years. Thanks Mr. Poe. You have meant a lot to me.

GETTING OUT OF LA

In October of 1945, the Japanese had been defeated and thousands upon thousands were being discharged from the many military organizations. So it was with me. I had gone into the Navy base in San Diego and found out that I had enough points to be released from active duty. That was a time of mixed emotions. Here I had spent 3 years learning my trade and now I would be unable to determine if I had learned it accurately. Oh, the flying of an airplane was not the greatest test, it was being over the Pacific Ocean and not knowing exactly where you were. You could be one degree and miss an island by several miles ---with nothing but ocean out in front of you. Navigation in those days was using a sextant to "shoot " the stars, guess what your ground speed was and having other very difficult aids to determine your position. However , it was a time to go home, be a husband and a father and learn a new trade--earning a living. Ah, but there is a problem. We were amongst those thousands I spoke of and how do we get back to our homes. I was with two of my buddies and we, somehow, got to Los Angeles where we needed a place to stay. Entering the first hotel we came to, I noticed a long line of other military people hoping they had reservations. In some kind of a slick move I found myself at the desk saying "This probably a stupid question but any chance you have a room for three of us"? He looked me and the other two Navy guys and said "Will you take a sample room"? I didn't know what a sample room was but I said "Of course". Wow! How easy was that? And we proceeded to the sample room which turned out to be a large room with four beds and tables set up for salesmen to display their goods. It had a bathroom with a shower and we were in Heaven. Ah, but now the trouble began. I started calling train stations, bus stations, any type of transportation that would allow us to leave L.A. All to no avail!! We were stuck. I called Louise to tell her, and I could tell by the tone of her voice she was skeptical of our inability to get out of town. "Honest honey, we're stuck". So O.K. L.A. isn't the the worst place in the world to be stuck but we were now anxious to get home and go about resuming our duties in a family. We did a little touring, a little visiting places we had never been to and, in general, accepting our plight as best we could. Somehow the word got out that we had bought flowers for the hotel floor ladies. In those days there were ladies that sat at a desk to be sure the people going into the rooms were indeed guests of the hotel. It seems that often ladies of the evening were known to attempt to go to a room. Can you imagine? 5 days late, after continuing to call the various forms of transportation, we were informed by the bus company that if two of us would stand until there was an empty seat they would sell us tickets to go east on a bus. We jumped at the offer and made plans. There were now four of us and we were all going to the Midwest except I was going to Buffalo N.Y. But stand we did, taking turns so that we rotated all the way to the eastern part of New Mexico. In Chicago we all took different trains to different cities and I parted, teary eyed, from the three guys I had been so very close to for most of three years. It was difficult and Louise never did fully believe the difficulty I had leaving L.A.Maybe when I get to the next page, I will be able to convince her. After all who could possibly lie in Heaven?

THE TEETH THAT DROPPED

It seems that I can remember the things of long ago better than what took place yesterday. Incidentally, what did take place yesterday? At any rate in the long ago time of my youth, I had a job at my former grammar school and the custodian in charge of the refurbishing of the school made the mistake of giving me Jimmie Gassman as my work partner. Do you remember that schools of that era had very high classroom windows and Jimmie and I each had a tall ladder that allowed us to clean way up there. However, my new friend had a great sense of humor and could do tricks like blowing across his flattened hand as it was placed edgewise over his mouth. He then would imitate the deep sound of the ships horn and it was funny because of his hand and face positions as well as the sound that floated across the school room. Mr Durr, our friendly custodian came in at the wrong moment as Jimmie was blowing and I was laughing. Mr Durr was upset that these two clowns, instead of working, were playing around. So he let us have it and we were soundly chastised. He left and our laughter soon continued. At a later time --possibly 30 minutes, we were again engaged in some side splitting laughter when our not so friendly custodian re-entered the room. We were in the same positions as before but possibly laughing even harder. Irate could not be strong enough to describe Mr Durr. His face blew out of shape. His bald head quivered with rage. His eyes became malevolent slits. Anger was a polite word that could not possible describe his mood. Words would not come out in the manner he wished and as that happened his rage escalated even more. Desperate to spit out his words, he was finally reduced to dropping his teeth into his hand so he could have control of the words needed to scream at us. Seeing this we could not hold back any further and both of us practically fell off our ladders at this display. Yes, we no longer had to worry about working at the school. He finally, after all kinds of language my tender ears had never even heard, managed to get enough control to shout "You are both fired"!!! We were still laughing as we walked out. I never saw Jimmie Gassman again although I, too, will demonstrate a ships horn on occasion, and have often wondered if his memory of that summer job is the same as is mine and we can still laugh. I'm sure Mr Durr is long dead and I have often had some regret about our irresponsible action but in the minds of 14 year old kids, it was very funny.