Saturday, March 02, 2013

More Accidents in the Clay Homes

In yesterday's post I told of the creation and operation of the bus station plus some personal experiences there.

I also told of hitting Tommy Hadaway with a glass bottle I thrown over a bulldozed hill clump.  

A lot of us got hurt back then.  That was just part of playing.

Just down the street from us, overlooking the bus station the government built a vocation school for G.I.s returning from the War (WWII).  When they first started building on it there were rolls of something, I forgot what.  We found we could stand on the rolls when the  rolls were turned sideways and walk it and have a fun little ride until we fell off.  My sister Frances was walking a roll and something went wrong and she fell and broke her arm,  a compound break.  

I rushed home and told daddy.  It was on a Sunday and he was sitting resting.  I said, "Frances fell off a roll and she has a big dent in her arm!"  Daddy bounded from his chair in a leap and headed to check it out.  The doctor said Frances would never use that arm and hand again.  Daddy got a hard rubber ball and made her squeeze it  all the time.  He proved the doctors wrong.

Another time I found if going down a hill on my tricycle if I raised my feet off the pedals I could go down hills at a high speed.  The drive that led from the row of buildings on Atlanta Street to the street we lived on was my runway.  I took off and when the hill went downward I raised my legs and down I flew.

And a car hit me(WHAM!)  and knocked me out.  A black lady driving a car hit me.  It was not her fault at all and was not charged.  it was totally my fault.  I woke up on the couch with family and friends bending over looking at me.

Another time in the early 1940s when they built the First Methodist Annex (it is Roy Barnes' law office now) after the workers went home we would play in the building.  Mike Hobby fell from one level to the ground floor and landed on his feet.  Unfortunately, he was barefooted and he handed on nails.  A nail went through his foot.

Fearing of what his parents might do he went to see Daddy.   Daddy some how removed the nail and cleaned the wound with kerosene.   Walla!  I don't think his parents ever knew of it.

Another accident i almost forgot, it was so minor:  My sister and I shared a bed room with twin beds.  I remember I was inspired by Mighty Mouse flying with a cape.  I  sprang from one bed to the other, with a cape of some kind, probably a towel, and my arms stretched out.  It was a small room but still a long leap for a 4 year old.  One of my flights from bed to bed I missed and my head hit the bedpost and cut a gash.  It took three stitches.

My uncle Doug Hunter kidded me so much about it I became embarrassed over it all.  Pretending I was Mighty Mouse!   I changed the truth.  I told people who asked I bumped into a door.   Mrs. Cannon, the lady who lived in the next apartment asked me what happened to my head and I said I ran into a door.  She said, "That's not what I heard!"

Which reminds me, Mrs. Cannon and I had a relationship.  One time she was lying on her couch and she heard me talking, then she heard me open the door and heard me walk over by her.  She told my mother later she pretended she was asleep so I would leave the apartment, she just needed some down time.

Then she heard me try to wake her up.  She kept her eyes shut.  Then after a pause she felt something big and furry press up against her face.  She jumped up to meet the stray cat I had just found and put her on her face to introduce her to it.

That is another thing about living in a housing project in the 40s, or at least it was for me and my friends the same age.  We did not realize you were to knock on doors when you went visiting.  We thought you just opened the door and walk on in and if it was early in the morning, you just walk through the apartment looking for your friend.

If some neighbor kid came in our house now days without knocking I would have a fit.

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