Speaker 1:
How close were we to Homer and Wilson?
Well, when we played street baseball, and a foul tip landed on the 1st story roof, the game was over.
I would have to wait until the family was out of the house to crawl out of my Nona’s bedroom window onto the roof to get the ball back.
Once you made the leap across that chasm, you explored the rooftop a little further for other treasures.
If the upper ventilation window of the factory was open, you could peer inside.
Piles of burlap bags were stored there; future shipments of stamped materials would go out in these bags.
They also made a convenient unofficial rest area for workers on their lunch breaks.
Homer and Wilson hired both men and women, a carryover from the war-time years.
Once (and only once) I discovered a pair of young lovers doing more than resting on that pile of burlap bags.
My intrusion was unwelcome; however, they were sufficiently concerned for my safety that they told me—ordered me—to come in from the window and escorted me downstairs to meet with Poochie, the shop foreman.
My climbing days were over once my surreptitious activities were reported to my Mother Tina.
Poochie smiled.
I didn’t.
Perhaps as consolation, I did ask Poochie if I could get a job at Homer and Wilson after school or on Saturdays.
He told me to come back when I was 16.
I did, but those stories will wait for another day.
