It Was Our World War Too

To Eternity from Here

On the road to eternity, it’s not how you get there, it’s who goes with you that is important. Anita and I both made the perfect choice.

Eternity, as I’m using the word here, is a euphemism for a very long time. From here is the summer of 1938. To get here hadn’t been quick or easy. Eternity was our goal.

Immediately we knew we were destined for a relationship that would last a long time, like forever, maybe even to eternity.

Here is a brief review of where we are and how we got here. My lineage can be traced back to North Moravia. For thousands of years the area was dominated and controlled by many different power groups, including Attila the Hun and Charlemagne. My grandfather Joseph Kolesa was born in North Moravia. His wife, my grandmother Barbara Svoboda, was born in Transylvania. They had two children born in nearby Germany: my uncle Stephen, their oldest, and Frank, my father. They immigrated to the United States and had three more children: my aunt Mary, born in New Mexico, and my uncles William and John, born in Illinois. Uncle William (Bill) served with the Seabees in the Pacific during World War II.

Grandfather Anton Zivic was born in Croatia. He immigrated to the United States alone. Dora Raic, also born in Croatia, became his mail-order bride and my grandmother.

They had seven children born in Illinois. Katherine, my mother, was the oldest, then Barbara (Bertha), Thomas, Nicholas, Anthony, Joseph, and Rudolph.

Anthony and Rudolph served in the Army in Europe during World War II. They both fought in the Battle of the Bulge.

Anita was able to trace her maternal family back to the nineteenth century in England, where they had immigrated from France. Her great-grandfather William Seymour married Ann Johnson.

They had a daughter, Selina, who married Alfred Pester. One of Selina and Alfred’s daughters, Elizabeth, married Howard (also known as Frank) Rogers.

From this marriage came Alfred William, Howard Hyland, Verna May, Nellie Mae, and Anita Joyce. Howard served in the Philippines during World War II, and Alfred William was a construction engineer working with the Manhattan Project. Anita’s paternal side is less definitive. Her father was born in Eagle Pass, Texas, the son of William E. Rogers and Mary Alice Seale. He told his family he was an Anglo-Saxon by birth and was Scotch-Irish.

All of my grandparents and great-grandparents came from the same general area of Europe, all within 150 miles of present-day Budapest. All of Anita’s grandparents and great-grandparents came from Western Europe, France and the British Isles.

Anita covered stories of her family in her two memoirs, The Seymour/Pester Family History and The Frank Rogers Story. My memoir, From These Beginnings, and Scott’s three histories—Kolesa Family, Zivic Family, and Svoboda Family—cover all of the “begats.”

Of some interest is the fact that Anita’s mother and my father were immigrants to the United States, and my mother and her father were born here. Anita’s mother told her that my dad and her dad worked in the same coal mine in Edwardsville. Both left the mining profession as early in life as they could. After getting jobs above ground they both became union supporters.

Many early emigrants from Europe reportedly came to America to avoid participating in the ongoing wars. I found no documentation to verify that any of our ancestors were in that category. However, Leslie recalled a conversation she had with my dad who confirmed it was done. My cousin Bill Mejaski told me his grandfather came to the United States for that reason. Ironically, his son—my aunt Bertha’s first husband—served in the United States Air Service during World War I.

Anita’s dad, by oral tradition and undocumented, is reported to have been involved with the cavalry during the Spanish-American War when he was fourteen years old.

When my dad was sixteen years old, the country was watching the war being fought between Austria-Hungary and Serbia. It became an open conflict with the assassination of Archduke Ferdinand in Sarajevo in 1914. Soon it became a global war involving 32 nations. It became known as the Great War. Then it became the War to End All Wars, and finally, after World War II started, it took on the name World War I.

My uncle Steve served in the Army during World War I. He enlisted in the cavalry and served in New Mexico. They would not let him serve in Europe, according to his mother, because he was born in Germany.

In April of 1917, when Dad was nineteen, the United States declared war on Germany. The war lasted a year and a half after the United States became actively involved. The first Selective Service Act of the war was passed in May of 1917, calling for the registration of all men ages 21 through 30. Dad was too young for this registration. As the war progressed, another act was passed in August 1918, calling for all men between 18 and 45 to register. Dad was 19 at the time, and he registered as 20 million other men did. Of those registering, 2,800,000 were called. The war ended before Dad became one of them. Had he been called to serve he may have been treated in a similar manner as his brother. However, it may have depended on how the war was going at the time.

The city divided itself into neighborhoods. These included Lower Town, where I was born, and Prickett Addition, where Anita was born. There were also those smaller areas like Mt. Nebo, where both of us lived for many years.

Edwardsville had electric lights; a water supply from large deep wells located five miles south of the city; telephones; a telegraph system; natural gas; many paved roads; fire and police protection; financial services; a public library; doctors; a sanitarium; churches; and schools. The city was served by U.S. Route 66, connecting Chicago, Illinois, with the California coast.

Edwardsville had interstate bus service and five steam railroads as well as the electrically operated transit system that connected our state capital, Springfield, Illinois—President Lincoln’s home—with St. Louis, Missouri.

The issue of the Edwardsville newspaper that announced my birth had an ad by the Ford Motor Company listing their touring car for $295. For an additional $85 you could add demountable rims and a starter. The population of the United States was over 114 million, more than half of them living in Illinois. Gasoline was less than twenty cents a gallon, bread sold for nine cents a loaf, and milk was fifteen cents a quart, delivered.

The Winter Olympics started, the Washington Senators beat the New York Giants in the World Series, and Jack Dempsey was the heavyweight boxing title holder. Calvin Coolidge was president and commander-in-chief of the United States.

The United Press published a list of radio stations that were broadcasting on a daily schedule. St. Louis had one station, KSD. It had three programs listed for Monday, July 21, 1924. Mom and Dad did not have a radio but would have one in a few years, starting with a crystal set, then a battery-operated unit, followed by an electric one that could receive stations all day and night.

Anita was a coal miner’s daughter and I am a coal miner’s son. Certified copies of our birth certificates indicate that we were each delivered by the same doctor, Dr. R. S. Barnsback of Edwardsville. Both of our fathers’ given names were listed as Frank on the certificates. Anita’s great-grandfather Reverend William Seymour was a minister in Westfield, England, and according to his family birth certificate, he was a coal miner. What a great equalizing factor it was that Anita and I were both born in the mid-twenties and had no social barriers to overcome. Both of our parents were of mixed nationalities.

Both families survived on menial-income jobs supplemented by frugal living techniques. I was named Thomas after my uncle Tom Zivic. My middle name came from my grandfather Joseph Kolesa. A friend of the family gave me my nickname, Buster, because of my full-figured body at birth and the fact that Buster Keaton won the Academy Award for best actor that year.

Anita received her given name as a result of the Hispanic influence her parents gained from living and working in Mexico and Guatemala. Her dad was fluent in Spanish and her mother understood and spoke a moderate amount.

Anita’s nickname, Knee-high, was given to her by her uncle Clarence Cooper, who was Native American. Anita was small compared to his daughters. Clarence served in the Army during World War I, as did another uncle of hers, William Thacker.

My dad was traveling around the country with his parents while his dad was looking for work. Grandfather Kolesa finally took a job as a coal miner and settled in White City, Illinois. It wasn’t many years before they saved enough money to set themselves up in a business.

They opened a small grocery and meat market in Sawyerville, Illinois, a few miles away.

They moved to Sawyerville and rented a house on Fisher Avenue across the street from the Zivic family.

The oldest Zivic daughter, Katherine, and the second-oldest Kolesa son, Frank, fell in love and married.

Anita’s mother’s roots go back to Europe, where she grew up in Wales as Elizabeth Ann Pester. She emigrated to North America with her parents. After considerable travel in Canada looking for work, the family paused in Fernie, British Columbia, where Elizabeth got a job in a hotel restaurant.

Anita’s father, after much traveling in the United States, found himself working in a short-order restaurant across the street from the hotel where Elizabeth Pester worked.

The two of them fell in love and married.

From Canada the Frank Rogers family moved to Texas, Guatemala, Central America, back to Texas, then to Edwardsville, Illinois.

Mom and Dad likewise moved a number of times before taking up residence on North Main Street, where I was born, before buying their house on Hanser Street.

It wasn’t long before Anita’s parents purchased a house on Arcadia Street, a few blocks from ours.

The summer of 1938 was filled with many of the same activities of previous summers. However, this year saw a number of new, more grown-up activities.

Mom and Dad had a telephone installed. Our number was 1292W. No longer did Mom have to run over to the neighbors to call Dr. Barnsback for emergencies.

There was still a lot of time to play, even for the big boys. My uncles and their friends, many in their twenties and some even in their thirties, still liked to play baseball on Sundays. There wouldn’t be many more years of their youth left, but they enjoyed it while they could.

They organized a team. Dad was the manager, had a car, a steady job, and was able to select the best players from the area.

He was also related to several of the team members. Therefore, he enjoyed the game as much as the players did.

The Depression Stars, that started out as a ragtag team several years earlier, grew into one of the best teams in the county. They received quite a reputation and eventually had sponsors for uniforms and kept getting better and better. Uncles Bill, John, and Tom survived all cuts and were stars of the All Stars.

I served as bat boy. After the game I passed the hat, collecting dimes, to replace broken bats and lost balls.

The highlight of every game, win or lose, was the party held at our house. Dad would have a batch of home brew ready to tap and some homemade root beer. Mom would put together sandwiches, and a fun time would be had by all.

As the Depression eased off and more work became available, many of the teams broke up, including the Depression Stars. Baseball was turned over to high-school-age boys. I was on one of the teams, but we never got out of the ragtag category.

One Saturday afternoon I was riding with Dad, returning from a hardware store in his Model B Ford four-door. We were on Fillmore Street, approaching Chapman Street. A car seemed to come out of nowhere and headed right for us. Dad tried to avoid it.

We were almost clear when, thud, the oncoming car hit us at the rear fender and spun us part way around. Our car lurched and began to tip over. It was a gentle rollover. There we were, Dad keeping himself away from the door by holding onto the steering wheel and me lying on top of him.

We were helped out of the car unhurt by neighbors. There was no doubt who was at fault. The police came, issued a citation to the other driver, who was also unhurt. A number of men that had gathered around offered to upright Dad’s car. They each grabbed hold where they could, and as gently as it had rolled over, it was put upright. Dad started it and was able to drive home.

However, it was time for another car. Uncle Tony and Aunt Bertha were about to buy a new car. They sold Dad their 1936 DeSoto.

This car became Dad’s pride and joy, not to mention us boys. It was lime green, very long, and attracted a lot of attention.

Frank and I began to make plans regarding his football practice schedule and paper-route deliveries. He wanted to continue delivering his morning route if I would take over his afternoon route. We would continue to share the Sunday delivery, and I would be his substitute for the morning route. That worked.

One day I was delivering papers near the high school when a very large dog came running after me. At first it barked. Then it took a snap at me, caught my leg just below the knee, and pulled me, my bike, and all my papers to the ground.

The dog tore my pants and I had a large tooth puncture in my upper calf that hurt but didn’t bleed. By the time I got myself together, the dog was gone. Fortunately the dog must have been healthy, because I didn’t get rabies.

There was plenty of opportunity to spend a paper boy’s salary. I opted for a bicycle. Mom and Dad helped me order my first new bicycle, a red 26-inch balloon-tire bike. The base price was $19.95. Mom and Dad let me buy it on their account at Montgomery Ward. I was able to pay it off in six months.

Finally, high school. I had a choice of subjects that I could take along with the required English, algebra, PE, and health. From the selection available, I chose general science and mechanical drawing. Science was my favorite; mechanical drawing was my future.

E. L. Alexander was school superintendent, D. R. Blodgett was principal, and J. J. Love was assistant principal and dean of boys. I knew all of them and they all knew me. Mr. Gibson taught me general science.

Elsie Sloan, dean of girls, taught me English, and Mr. Love attempted to teach me algebra. Assistant coach “Doc” Dragalin was my mechanical drawing teacher. Coach Glenn Smith taught health and PE.

I joined the freshman wrestling team. Our freshman class, the largest ever, had 261 students on its roster.

Anita had finished junior high and would be attending high school in the fall.

On October 31, Edwardsville, like most communities, celebrated Halloween with a parade.

Orson Welles did H. G. Wells’s War of the Worlds on his radio show.

The first snow of the year usually caused a lot of excitement and anticipation but wasn’t good for much of anything. The really good snows came when it was cold and stayed cold and there was at least three inches of it.

That’s a young boy’s opinion, even if he did have to pass papers all bundled up.

It was a cold Saturday between Thanksgiving and Christmas. There was plenty of snow on the ground. Some of the boys from the neighborhood built a huge fire at the intersection of Arcadia Street and Hanser Street. Hanser Street started in front of our house and proceeded south to Kansas Street.

It was maintained from our house to Arcadia. From there to the bottom of the hill, where it terminated at Kansas Street, it was ideal for sleigh riding. It was just a pathway with turns and twists and bumps. This was the most popular sleigh-riding hill in the neighborhood.

It didn’t take long before the word got out and Anita gathered several of her friends from her end of the block and came over. I was one of the fire builders. I brought my sled loaded with firewood. Anita actually started our conversation by asking how high school was. The “note” was mentioned, but we agreed not to discuss it even though we both wanted to. Maybe some other time.

I took a few rides down the hill; Anita chose to watch. After several of my solo runs, she decided to try one with me. She screamed all the way down the hill and laughed all the way climbing back up.

When most of the wood was gone and the fire didn’t keep us warm any longer, the group decided to break up and go home where it was warm.

Anita and I stood up. We didn’t say anything, just smiled at each other. Mine was a big grin; hers was that Mona Lisa smile. It said everything. I took my sled and we went our separate ways.

I had taken a lot of pictures with my inexpensive mail-order camera and had graduated to a bigger one that used standard-size film that I could buy at a drugstore.

I modified the camera to take close-up pictures of insects. My classmates had seen these pictures and I was talked into joining the Camera Club. I attended their first meeting.

Immediately it was obvious that I didn’t belong there. There were too many expensive cameras with too many gadgets being shown off. I was glad I hadn’t brought my camera.

They talked exposure meters, close-up lenses, film speeds, stops, enlargers, etc.

I never went back to another meeting. The experience, although somewhat embarrassing, didn’t stifle my interest in picture taking one bit.

The year 1938 did see a slight improvement in the unemployment rate. It was down to 19%.

The minimum wage was 40¢ an hour. President Roosevelt proposed a transcontinental highway system.

The war came upon us before it could be built. It was reactivated when General Eisenhower became president and commander-in-chief. He pushed for a design proposal and eventually for its construction.

Hitler had named himself supreme commander of Germany in 1938, and Japan had moved farther into China.

Douglas “Wrong Way” Corrigan flew his small plane from New York to Dublin, Ireland. Superman was introduced to the world.

I loved my chemistry lab in a room behind our chicken house. It was a source of pride for me as well as educational. Mom and Dad felt I was responsible and never put any restrictions on my activities there.

If the chicken house was my man cave, the garage was Frank’s. He would be seventeen this year and was helping Dad with maintenance and repairs.

I was too young to get involved in working on the car, and Frank liked to do that sort of thing as much as I liked to experiment.

He received his driver’s license at sixteen, driving Dad’s car. Frank would drive around town with the DeSoto full of his friends.

They would chip in on gasoline and they could ride around all evening for a dollar. That dollar would buy five gallons of gasoline.

Frank was dating when he was seventeen and was very popular with his classmates, both male and female. He was considered an above-average football player.

He was quite good in his schoolwork and always had pocket money. He kept clean and well dressed. My role model.

I had completed my freshman year. The important thing was that in the fall I would be a sophomore and Anita would be a freshman. Even of more importance was the fact that we would be walking to school together.

I was beginning to expand my world and started to make some explorations beyond what I had been allowed to do previously. I still went to Grandmother Kolesa’s house by myself and could go most anywhere I wanted to along the Cahokia Canal and Cahokia Creek.

If I went farther than those places, Mom thought it best that someone be with me. Even though Mom had made friends with Mr. and Mrs. Rogers and she liked Anita, I don’t think she had Anita in mind when she wanted someone to be with me.

Anita and I were now beyond the “just friends” stage, but I still enjoyed being with the guys. Eddie Stack and I spent time together. He quit school.

One of the things we had in common was looking for arrowheads. The canal was not here when the Indians were, but because the purpose of the canal was to drain the areas that flooded, many streams entered into the canal, bringing rocks, sand, gravel, and arrowheads.

Another popular destination beyond my normal range was Fort Russell. This was an Army fort built for the War of 1812. It was in use only two years. We never found anything of interest there.

About a quarter of a mile away from where Anita and I lived there was a double spring that flowed all year long.

It was close enough that we could walk to it in less than fifteen minutes. The water was always cool and refreshing. We had to take a number of drinks.

There were all kinds of stories about the Indians using it. Everyone called it Indian Springs. Naturally, many legends surrounded it. Most related to young Indian lovers using it as a secret meeting place. Some were about lost love, others about found love. Most had happy endings. Anita and I often made up our own version of what might have happened there.

If we ran out of stories I would recite poetry. Even if I didn’t remember the whole poem, she liked the part I remembered and asked me to continue with another. Before we left we would make a common cup, using one of my hands and one of hers, and have one last drink before heading home to the real world. We thought that’s what the Indians did.

My uncle Steve and aunt Ouida were both college-trained physical education instructors. They worked hard to develop my cousin Sonny into a top-notch athlete. He excelled in swimming. Uncle Steve worked with him, and on July first, Sonny swam across the Mississippi River at St. Louis.

Uncle Steve sought help to take Sonny to the New York World’s Fair that was to open in the fall. Uncle Steve asked Dad for a loan. They developed some leads for doing a show at the World’s Fair and tried to land a movie role for Sonny to play Tarzan’s son.

Nothing came of these efforts. Sending Uncle Steve money was another example of Mom and Dad’s compassion as caregivers.

When the story unfolded, no one ever discussed the amount of the loan or if it was paid or forgiven.

Both Mom and Dad were equally good as caregivers. However, there was a difference between the two. Mom was very open about the fact she was helping, not necessarily telling how much she gave but letting family know she did.

Dad was very quiet about matters relating to money. He would help but wouldn’t tell anyone except Mom. In fact Mom didn’t know how much Dad was paying toward Grandmother’s house until the loans were paid off. It’s remarkable that they were able to do these things with so little cash available.

It seemed like there were a dozen of us walking to high school together. I later found out that several of the girls had planned the group arrangement. There was a lot of laughter among the older students as they attempted to scare freshmen like Anita. She looked to me for help. Neither of us said anything.

We communicated silently, me trying to assure her that things were going to be fine. She, with her smile, conveyed “Thank you.”

Frank seemed to be having so much fun playing football that I began to think in terms of going out for the team myself. That meant both of us had to look for ways to get the papers delivered.

I signed up for the football tryouts. Being Frank’s brother, I was noticed and accepted as a possible team candidate. Mr. Smith was head coach and Mr. Dragalin was his assistant and coached the junior varsity. I only weighed 135 pounds as a sophomore. After a few practice sessions I was designated the quarterback on offense and the right guard on defense.

I started our first game as quarterback against Wood River’s junior varsity. It was a Thursday after school in Wood River. After a few plays that moved us down the field to near their goal line, I was to carry the ball over the right side. The next thing I remember was that I was home in Edwardsville and Mom was calling me to get up to go to school. I have no idea what happened or how I got home. From that play on I was a guard, both on offense and defense. I loved it. There were no aftereffects.

It wasn’t very long before Coach Smith asked if I would like to “dress” for the home games.

I didn’t have to be asked twice. Being a poor school and feeling the results of the Depression, the athletic department was on a very limited budget. All of the varsity uniforms were assigned; therefore, I had to wear a “non-uniform” uniform. Everyone else wore orange and black. I wore the practice uniform, khaki and white. I really stood out in the team photograph.

When football season ended I returned to the routine of studying, passing papers, keeping my grades up, and developing my friendship with members of the football team. Tom Schrier, Bud Ramsey, and I developed a strong relationship.

Because Anita and I lived close to each other and walked to school together with the group most days, we kept our relationship growing and solidifying. We began passing notes at school. Eternity, here we come.

The year came to a close with more and more talk of the war in Europe.

Our classes included current events as they related to our subject matter. In geometry we talked engineering; in chemistry we talked science; in history we followed the location of important events.

Enrico Fermi, the famous scientist, predicted that after the first successful atomic explosion, which was getting close, a practical use would be found for it within twenty years. Albert Einstein advised President Roosevelt that development of an atomic type of bomb was possible within a few years.

Hitler ordered every German over five years of age to prepare for a war assignment. All youths from ten to fifteen years old were conscripted into service. At sixteen you were in the army.

Great Britain and France declared war on Germany. There was no Nobel Peace Prize awarded this year.

The weather turned bad the day before Christmas, according to Mom’s diary. The snow and frozen ground continued through the end of the year.

On January 27, 1940, our water stopped running. City workers drilled holes in the unpaved street through the frozen ground and tried to thaw the pipes with hot water.

That didn’t work. They had to dig the pipes out to thaw them. That took a week. Bad weather was only good for winter sports. Ice skating and sleigh riding were at their best. Frank didn’t participate in the local activities.

His interests were citywide. He did go on bobsled rides with his friends, towing them with Dad’s DeSoto.

Even during the cold weather, there were papers to be delivered. Getting up before five in the morning, with the temperature below zero, to deliver papers for a few dollars a week did build character.

Frank graduated in June and began looking for a full-time job. In July he started working in the brass shop at the N. O. Nelson plant making valves that were required for the developing war effort. This was a good-paying job.

He would be able to buy a car of his own, and he did: a 1933 Plymouth coupe. It was in bad shape when he purchased it. As you would suspect, he put a lot of his time and effort into improving it and spent money until it was in near-perfect running condition.

When school was out for the summer I looked for a job that would provide me with some extra walking-around money. Frank had been setting pins at the St. Boniface Church bowling alley, and he taught me how it was done. I helped out on league nights when they needed me.

That supplemented my paper-route earnings and put quite a nice jingle in my pocket.

As summer wore on, farm jobs opened up and I worked for several local farmers, harvesting wheat.

Almost all of the local youth did this work and received one to two dollars a day plus an all-you-could-eat lunch. Around the Fourth of July, wheat was ready to harvest. The rented equipment was brought in and it moved through the fields.

It ejected bundles of wheat stalks that had been tied and dropped to the ground. My first job was to gather these up and place them in stacks to dry. When dry, another crew fed the thresher. Out of one end came the finished product, wheat.

The waste was shot into the air and collected on a pile known as a haystack, the kind you look for the needle in. This made a play place for kids.

Anita and I played there once, but getting her hair full of straw and all itchy wasn’t her cup of tea. She would much rather walk and talk. That made two of us.

Football practice started a week before school. Having recently worked in the fields, set pins, and passed papers, I was in great shape. I had also put on a few pounds, weighing in at 150. We had the first undefeated season in the history of Edwardsville High School. It was a good year. I got my letter.

Our yearbook, the Tiger, had this to say about the season: “Throughout the year the Tiger eleven displayed beautifully executed plays, hard clean blocking, and precision ball handling. So matchless was their performance that one football expert declared them the equal of any great team yet produced in the Southwestern Conference.”

Per capita income had climbed to $593 in 1940 from a low of $474 in 1935. The unemployment rate had dropped to 14.6%.

President Roosevelt, who had been re-elected by an overwhelming majority, signed the Selective Service Act.

He arranged to trade fifty destroyers for military bases in British territory. Winston Churchill replaced Neville Chamberlain as prime minister of England. Germany and Italy invaded France. Germany began to bomb England.

Christmas at our house no longer centered around Frank and me. It was John and Roy’s turn. We still received our clothes and one big gift. This was the year for shoe skates. I loved mine. Frank didn’t ice-skate much; he let John use his.

Now I could go skating on Leclair Lake. I became pretty good at figure skating with these skates.

My English teacher, Miss Alice Cheek, was also a speech teacher. Therefore, it was not uncommon for her to introduce public-speaking techniques into our lessons.

Our first assignment was to pick a popular quotation from someone’s speech and recite it in class. I chose Patrick Henry’s famous speech: “…I know not what course others may take, but as for me, give me liberty or give me death.”

I must have done a good job because a short time later our class was given the opportunity to participate in a St. Louis radio-station program and I was asked to read the highlights of Patrick Henry’s speech.

Later in the year, the junior class put on a play for the entire school. I had a part as a grandfather. I moderated short skits. During one of the skits I forgot my lines.

Miss Cheek couldn’t get the cue to me, so I had to ad-lib. I thought it was very obvious that it was an impromptu presentation, but after the play I received many compliments on my acting ability from students and teachers alike. Miss Cheek knew the story and complimented me on my handling of the emergency.

I turned seventeen this year. I could have received my driver’s license last year, but I had no urgency for it. When I expressed an interest in learning how to drive, Frank taught me, using his Plymouth.

If he felt I was good enough to pass the test, I must have been pretty good. We used his car and I got my license. Dad let me drive his DeSoto on rare occasions after I got my license.

During the summer there were many opportunities for entertainment around Edwardsville. Even though it was small compared to many nearby cities, it was the seat of government for Madison County.

Therefore, a number of carnivals, road shows, band concerts, and holiday picnics were held there.

Frank quit his job and took one as a welder at General Steel’s Commonwealth Plant in Granite City. I took a job picking cantaloupes. Anita’s brother Howard, who had picked melons previously, was home from college and was hired as a lead picker. A full day’s work paid $2 plus a farmhand lunch.

Edwardsville, being on Route 66, received a number of visits from Gypsy travelers. They would camp at the foot of Sunset Hill on the road to Edwardsville and make their way into town to sell their crafts or to find work.

They were a colorful and interesting group. Many people didn’t like Gypsies, but I did. They never caused our family any trouble. Likewise, I thought we were lucky to have medicine shows. They were outdoor versions of vaudeville shows. They set up their stages on vacant lots and had a number of acts to get the attention of the audience. Between each act there would be a strong pitch by the master of ceremonies for some medicine, drug, salve, or wonder cure, or some gadget. I went for the entertainment.

Frank had his own circle of older friends, and I became the big brother to John and Roy, taking them under my wing on excursions around the woods and into town. I acted as a leader and a teacher between periods of playing with them. I taught them how and where to find arrowheads.

Football season was upon me and I had to juggle my paper route and the football practice sessions.

This next activity made national news as an Associated Press release, including a picture. Nothing exciting happened before our first game to stimulate team spirit. Tom Schrier, Bud Ramsey, and I decided to do something about that before our second game, which was with Staunton. Tom borrowed his sister’s car. We secured plenty of whitewash and some brushes and headed for Staunton. We picked out a good spot to paint our message: “BEAT STAUNTON, YEA TIGERS.”

Staunton High School officials called Principal Blodgett asking for money to pay their janitors to remove our artwork. There were no funds in their budget for this.

I rounded up Tom and Bud and we agreed that we should confess to Coach Smith.

Using Tom’s sister’s car again we headed to Staunton to undo our work. It was right after school and we drew a large crowd.

There were no negative remarks or comments made to any of us. Some of the students even helped. We had a really good time.

One of the newspaper accounts stated, “It was a tired trio that motored back to Edwardsville last night. The youths stated they would be back Friday night to help trounce the Staunton football team.”

An exceptionally large crowd from Edwardsville journeyed to Staunton to watch the game, which we won, 14–0. Two games later I was injured and didn’t play much the rest of the season.

It wasn’t a good year for the Edwardsville Tigers; we won five, lost three, and tied one.

Our right end, Maurice Gregor, made the All-Conference first team. Three of us made the second team: our class president, Harold Langford; my cousin Bennett Hensley; and me.

I was the only player from Edwardsville listed on Pat Harmond’s 1941 Illinois all-state high school football team.

The area of Edwardsville where we lived, known as Mt. Nebo, wasn’t large, but we seemed to have had our share of young people—preteens, teens, and those in their lower twenties—living there. I knew them all. As would be expected, I associated with some more than others. Anita and I began to spend more time in each other’s presence.

We were both in high school, lived near each other, had many mutual friends, liked to do things together, and still had our good friend, classmate, relative, and understanding chaperone when we needed her, Verna Mae. Anita and I grew closer.

It was convenient to have a city recreation facility nearby, the Turner Hall. Mom and Dad lived above the Kolesa store in 1924. The apartment faced Second Street. You could see the hall from their upstairs window. Mom took a picture showing Grandfather’s business truck and Dad’s racer automobile that was used for local deliveries.