blade310
Member
I was born in Barberton citizens hospital in Barberton Ohio in 1958. It seems up until my 8th year my life was fairly uneventful.
I do remember a few things from my 7th year, like the broken beer bottle,but that's not the topic this evening. my brother Rick and I are a year and a half apart in age.Him being the older. we some how ended up in Bible school the year I turned eight. It must have been not long after school was out. we walked to the church which took us about 45 minutes I guess.
Along the way we saw alot of odd and fascinating things along the road. One morning we were walking along the road and my brother found a cigarette, he said we would keep it and smoke it after church when we got back home. I thought that was a good idea but I said we should leave it where it was and pick it up on the way home. I didn't want to get caught with it in church cause dear old dad would have busted us up good if he found out. so we left it where it was.
As we went on walking we came across a lot of cigarette butts half smoked or barely smoked and we decided to get all of them on the way back.
This was pretty exciting. We were gonna do some serious smoking. well we made it to church and we made it through bible school and were finally on the way home. We started to pick up all the cigarette butts we could find. my brother stuck them in his sock.
Just before we got home I found the grand prize,a cigar butt about three inches long big and round,well the end with the teeth marks was kinda chewed flat and it was fairly wet from being chewed on. looking back on it the thing was mighty disgusting but at the time the only thing two little boys were thinking of was smoking a cigar.
I could hardly contain myself. When we got home my dad was still at work and my mom was in the basement doing laundry on that old ringer washing machine. I always wondered if I put my hand in there would it come out flat on the other side. Never did try it that I can recall.Guess that was a good thing.
We changed out of our good clothes and put on our every day clothes which consisted of a pair of cut off jeans and nothing else. I swear by the end of summer we could walk over hot coals and not feel a thing.
My mother would go grocery shopping once a month I believe. it was always a treat for one of us kids to go with her. There were four of us boys and two girls Kathy my oldest sister is three or four years older than me and Duchess is about that much younger than me I already mentioned Rick my older brother and there was Don and Mike my younger brothers.
Towards the end of the summer it was my turn to go shopping with mom. I remember how odd it felt to wear shoes after not wearing them since the beginning of summer.
Oops gettin off track here. As soon as we had our shorts on we headed down to the" big tree " We called it that because it was a very big tree. It was one of our secret places. I guess it wasn't really a secret place as much as it was one of those special places in your child hood that was always there and felt safe and comfortable.
I don't remember where we got the matches. both my parents smoked at that time. my dad always carried a zippo. Must of been moms matches. On the way home we had not found the whole cigarette. And by the time we got home the cigarette butts in my brothers sock had pretty much been ruined by my brothers sweaty leg. I had held the cigar butt in my hand on the way home ready to toss it at the first sign of danger ( an adult ). So all we had was the nasty little cigar butt. to us of course it was a thing of beauty and very manly.
My brother took it and put it between his lips,struck a match and tried to light it. It was not working. He went through half a pack of matches tryin' to light that darn thing. He lit another match and when it flared down he brought it up to the cigar and the wind blew it out so he winged it at me. Like a dummy I didn't duck or move and it stuck in the moist corner of my mouth. That hurt like ell ! My brother got a kick out of that so he lit another one and tossed it at me.
Sometimes I hated my older brother. Finally he decided we needed a hole in the cigar in order to light it. I thought that was kinda stupid myself but OK. as long as we got it lit and I could get a chance to puff on it I didn't care what he did to it. He got a little twig and worked it up through the bottom of the cigar. when he pulled the twig back out I swear it looked just a bit smaller than when it went in but I didn't say anything.
So he put the thing back to his lips and held another match to it. This time he got a little smoke so he shook out the match and tossed it at me. It was coming at my face so all I could do was lower my head in that instant. I felt it hit my hair,well actually all I had was short bristles cause dad shaved us bald right after school was out then again about half way through summer.
I reached up and grabbed the head of the match with my thumb and forefinger and got burnt again. I didn't like fighting with my brother cause he always seemed to win but we were about to go at it. I called him a name or two and told him to give it to me if he couldn't light it. Then I remembered watching a guy light a cigar on TV and how it took him awhile to get it going. I told my brother you have to light it for along time to make it work. he told me to shut up but he finally got it going real good. he was blowin out alot of blue smoke and I thought sure mom was going to see it and come get us. It was like being on death row if mom caught us doing something wrong.
Ah the famous words, " you just wait til your dad gets home buddy" Some times mom would punish us. That I could deal with. Have you ever seen one of those things that look like a ping pong paddle with rubber ball hooked to it buy a piece of rubber string? Well that was moms weapon of choice when she was gonna spank us. of course there was no ball or rubber string attached to it. This thing hurt like the dickens but it was over quick and it was done. It was a little more painful if you put your hand back there to block it and she whacked your knuckles.
The worst thing about hearing the words "wait til your dad gets home was if you heard it early in the day cause then you had to suffer through the whole day knowing what you were in for. and daddy's punishment ( don't know why we called him daddy but we always did. even after I was grown up I could not bring myself to call him dad . I referred to him as the old man)was that it all depended on the kind of day he had and not necessarily the strength of the crime you committed. there were three possibility's,he had a good day and you just got his hand,he had a tuff day and you got the belt,he had a flat out bad day you got the belt on your bare bottom.
So when he got home you waited,hoping and praying that mom would forget or have a change of hart. you would know soon enough. If you heard him say "get your azz out to the garage" you were a gonner.
Anyway back to that nasty little cigar my brother had it lit and going good and he took a big puff and inhaled!
Holy smokes we had never inhaled! we had swiped a cigarette or two off my parents before but we never ever inhaled. That was a brave thing he did! up till now the most we ever did was blow smoke out our noses....without inhaling.
Right then I was really proud of my brother and a little in awe of him.That changed pretty quick when he handed it to me and said I had to do it to. I guess that it was only fair,if he did it i should do it too. so I took as little a puff as I could and inhaled.Didn't feel a thing.
I didn't think I had gotten any smoke till I exhaled and saw a little bit come out. My brother stuck his hand out to take it back but I stepped back and took a big puff and inhaled it. I figured If I didn't have a problem with a little I wouldn't have a problem with alot. I got about half of it inhaled and started to cough. That hurt my throat and burnt my nose and made my eyes water.
I handed it back to my brother. Both my brother and I had accidentally inhaled a bit of cigarette smoke before and it hurt and made us cough. this smoke was different it didn't seem to hurt when I inhaled it but it made me cough and I didn't know why. so when my brother handed it back I figured if I didn't cough I would be alright. So I took another big puff and inhaled it I didn't cough. I remember I held it in for a bit to make sure I didn't cough. When I let it out I got dizzy and bent over and dropped the cigar. I don't remember if my brother smoked anymore or not.
I leaned against the tree and wanted to throw up I always hated to throw up but I wanted to that day. All of a sudden I was dieing or at least I thought so. I don't know how long I leaned against that tree but when I opened my eyes I saw my brother on the ground curled up in a ball. I pushed him with my foot and said lets go. He said don't touch me.
I don't remember if I went up to the house or I stayed there till I felt better or what. I don't believe my mom found out about it but I don't remember for sure I do know that I couldn't stand the smell of cigar for a long long time. the sorry thing is ,by the time I was twelve I was hooked on cigarettes and didn't give them up til I turned forty seven. For the longest time I believed that the little piece of twig that may or may not have broken of in that cigar was what made me sick. I didn't touch a cigar again til I was in my twenty's.
I do remember a few things from my 7th year, like the broken beer bottle,but that's not the topic this evening. my brother Rick and I are a year and a half apart in age.Him being the older. we some how ended up in Bible school the year I turned eight. It must have been not long after school was out. we walked to the church which took us about 45 minutes I guess.
Along the way we saw alot of odd and fascinating things along the road. One morning we were walking along the road and my brother found a cigarette, he said we would keep it and smoke it after church when we got back home. I thought that was a good idea but I said we should leave it where it was and pick it up on the way home. I didn't want to get caught with it in church cause dear old dad would have busted us up good if he found out. so we left it where it was.
As we went on walking we came across a lot of cigarette butts half smoked or barely smoked and we decided to get all of them on the way back.
This was pretty exciting. We were gonna do some serious smoking. well we made it to church and we made it through bible school and were finally on the way home. We started to pick up all the cigarette butts we could find. my brother stuck them in his sock.
Just before we got home I found the grand prize,a cigar butt about three inches long big and round,well the end with the teeth marks was kinda chewed flat and it was fairly wet from being chewed on. looking back on it the thing was mighty disgusting but at the time the only thing two little boys were thinking of was smoking a cigar.
I could hardly contain myself. When we got home my dad was still at work and my mom was in the basement doing laundry on that old ringer washing machine. I always wondered if I put my hand in there would it come out flat on the other side. Never did try it that I can recall.Guess that was a good thing.
We changed out of our good clothes and put on our every day clothes which consisted of a pair of cut off jeans and nothing else. I swear by the end of summer we could walk over hot coals and not feel a thing.
My mother would go grocery shopping once a month I believe. it was always a treat for one of us kids to go with her. There were four of us boys and two girls Kathy my oldest sister is three or four years older than me and Duchess is about that much younger than me I already mentioned Rick my older brother and there was Don and Mike my younger brothers.
Towards the end of the summer it was my turn to go shopping with mom. I remember how odd it felt to wear shoes after not wearing them since the beginning of summer.
Oops gettin off track here. As soon as we had our shorts on we headed down to the" big tree " We called it that because it was a very big tree. It was one of our secret places. I guess it wasn't really a secret place as much as it was one of those special places in your child hood that was always there and felt safe and comfortable.
I don't remember where we got the matches. both my parents smoked at that time. my dad always carried a zippo. Must of been moms matches. On the way home we had not found the whole cigarette. And by the time we got home the cigarette butts in my brothers sock had pretty much been ruined by my brothers sweaty leg. I had held the cigar butt in my hand on the way home ready to toss it at the first sign of danger ( an adult ). So all we had was the nasty little cigar butt. to us of course it was a thing of beauty and very manly.
My brother took it and put it between his lips,struck a match and tried to light it. It was not working. He went through half a pack of matches tryin' to light that darn thing. He lit another match and when it flared down he brought it up to the cigar and the wind blew it out so he winged it at me. Like a dummy I didn't duck or move and it stuck in the moist corner of my mouth. That hurt like ell ! My brother got a kick out of that so he lit another one and tossed it at me.
Sometimes I hated my older brother. Finally he decided we needed a hole in the cigar in order to light it. I thought that was kinda stupid myself but OK. as long as we got it lit and I could get a chance to puff on it I didn't care what he did to it. He got a little twig and worked it up through the bottom of the cigar. when he pulled the twig back out I swear it looked just a bit smaller than when it went in but I didn't say anything.
So he put the thing back to his lips and held another match to it. This time he got a little smoke so he shook out the match and tossed it at me. It was coming at my face so all I could do was lower my head in that instant. I felt it hit my hair,well actually all I had was short bristles cause dad shaved us bald right after school was out then again about half way through summer.
I reached up and grabbed the head of the match with my thumb and forefinger and got burnt again. I didn't like fighting with my brother cause he always seemed to win but we were about to go at it. I called him a name or two and told him to give it to me if he couldn't light it. Then I remembered watching a guy light a cigar on TV and how it took him awhile to get it going. I told my brother you have to light it for along time to make it work. he told me to shut up but he finally got it going real good. he was blowin out alot of blue smoke and I thought sure mom was going to see it and come get us. It was like being on death row if mom caught us doing something wrong.
Ah the famous words, " you just wait til your dad gets home buddy" Some times mom would punish us. That I could deal with. Have you ever seen one of those things that look like a ping pong paddle with rubber ball hooked to it buy a piece of rubber string? Well that was moms weapon of choice when she was gonna spank us. of course there was no ball or rubber string attached to it. This thing hurt like the dickens but it was over quick and it was done. It was a little more painful if you put your hand back there to block it and she whacked your knuckles.
The worst thing about hearing the words "wait til your dad gets home was if you heard it early in the day cause then you had to suffer through the whole day knowing what you were in for. and daddy's punishment ( don't know why we called him daddy but we always did. even after I was grown up I could not bring myself to call him dad . I referred to him as the old man)was that it all depended on the kind of day he had and not necessarily the strength of the crime you committed. there were three possibility's,he had a good day and you just got his hand,he had a tuff day and you got the belt,he had a flat out bad day you got the belt on your bare bottom.
So when he got home you waited,hoping and praying that mom would forget or have a change of hart. you would know soon enough. If you heard him say "get your azz out to the garage" you were a gonner.
Anyway back to that nasty little cigar my brother had it lit and going good and he took a big puff and inhaled!
Holy smokes we had never inhaled! we had swiped a cigarette or two off my parents before but we never ever inhaled. That was a brave thing he did! up till now the most we ever did was blow smoke out our noses....without inhaling.Right then I was really proud of my brother and a little in awe of him.That changed pretty quick when he handed it to me and said I had to do it to. I guess that it was only fair,if he did it i should do it too. so I took as little a puff as I could and inhaled.Didn't feel a thing.
I didn't think I had gotten any smoke till I exhaled and saw a little bit come out. My brother stuck his hand out to take it back but I stepped back and took a big puff and inhaled it. I figured If I didn't have a problem with a little I wouldn't have a problem with alot. I got about half of it inhaled and started to cough. That hurt my throat and burnt my nose and made my eyes water.
I handed it back to my brother. Both my brother and I had accidentally inhaled a bit of cigarette smoke before and it hurt and made us cough. this smoke was different it didn't seem to hurt when I inhaled it but it made me cough and I didn't know why. so when my brother handed it back I figured if I didn't cough I would be alright. So I took another big puff and inhaled it I didn't cough. I remember I held it in for a bit to make sure I didn't cough. When I let it out I got dizzy and bent over and dropped the cigar. I don't remember if my brother smoked anymore or not.
I leaned against the tree and wanted to throw up I always hated to throw up but I wanted to that day. All of a sudden I was dieing or at least I thought so. I don't know how long I leaned against that tree but when I opened my eyes I saw my brother on the ground curled up in a ball. I pushed him with my foot and said lets go. He said don't touch me.
I don't remember if I went up to the house or I stayed there till I felt better or what. I don't believe my mom found out about it but I don't remember for sure I do know that I couldn't stand the smell of cigar for a long long time. the sorry thing is ,by the time I was twelve I was hooked on cigarettes and didn't give them up til I turned forty seven. For the longest time I believed that the little piece of twig that may or may not have broken of in that cigar was what made me sick. I didn't touch a cigar again til I was in my twenty's.
Boy that brought back a ton of memories! Great write up Blade! 
