Sorry about the gap in posting, I was committed to do some other posting before I could go back to the story. Just to catch you up on story about the year after my father passed away. My brother (a year older than me) and I were in charge of taking care of my two younger sisters and my younger brother while my mother worked two jobs to support us. Anyway, I left off with my younger brother tied to a wagon while almost upside down in a brier patch, as punishment for telling Mom about our borrowing our neighbor’s horse drawn wooden wagon. We left him there while we went into town to deliver our newspapers.
Mom came home from work and released him and pondered what punishment was appropriate for us. When we arrived at home, she acted like nothing was wrong as she served us dinner. Her only comment was “You like tying up your brother?” We almost didn’t eat, afraid of what lay in store for us. We thought about hiding out until she left for work again but hunger got the best of us.
Our dining room was separated from the kitchen by a wall, but we removed it all but the supporting post to allow all of us to sit at the table. It was too small otherwise. After we ate, she didn’t leave for work so we knew something was up. She had us to go get the ropes we used to tie my brother up. We thought she was going to tie us to the wagon wheel as punishment, but it was dark outside and she had a better idea. She made us stand back to back on each side of the supporting post. She then proceeded to tie us up, making sure our hands were tied securely so we couldn’t free ourselves, she then added one final touch. She put a belt around our necks so that as long as we stood perfectly still everything was okay. But if we moved, we choked the other. Of course being young and full of spirit, we probably took turns choking each other twenty or so times before we finally stopped. Mom left for work telling the younger children not to untie us, she would do it when she came home from work.
My younger brother we tied to the wagon wheel would never come close to us but he enjoyed seeing us choking each other. My sister Mary, the older of the girls, finally untied our hands allowing us to be free. My older brother, Robert went out to the shed and got the skill saw, cutting that supporting beam down so Mom could never use that punishment on us again. That part of the ceiling had a permanent sag in it from then on.
Mom never said a word the next day about the supporting post being gone except for making my brother after she found out who cut it, cut the bottom even more so there would be nothing to trip over. We thought we would be punished further, but no. As it turned out, we only lived there until mid-winter. Robert put too much wood in the heating stove and caught the roof on fire.
One more adventure awaited us that summer of 1962 before school started. I will tell you about it in the next post #4 sub-titled “Today we would have been considered “Terrorists”
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