My Dad was a great story teller. he didn't invent any, embellished maybe, but had a knack for finding interest and humor in the events of his life. He lead an interesting and varied life.
One of his favorites, Dad invited an athletic young lady to his high school football game. As the game progressed, it was quite dull. Dad and his date were eating oranges. It was a different era. She said to Dad, "See that cop down on the field? I'll be I can hit him with this orange." True to her word, she plastered the officer right in the back of the head. Today, the officer would be in the stands and the offending young lady, and likely her date, would be off to jail. But in the 1930's, nothing happened. Like I said, it was a different era.
Like me, Dad struggled in chemistry. His teacher was Miss Pickett, granddaughter of General Pickett of Gettysburg fame. Miss Pickett had a wooden leg so it was difficult for her to get around. Dad offered to drive her to school every morning. He finished chemistry with a C-. My chemistry teacher was in great shape and had his own car. I would have loved a C-.
More sensitive readers may want to skip this one. Dad graduated from Inglewood High School in 1937. He immediately secured a job as a reporter with the Los Angeles Examiner. One night, he was sent out to report on a suicide. Dad arrived at the scene, showed his credential to officer guarding the door and started in. The officer stopped Dad and said, "Kid you don't want to go in there. The guy used a shotgun."
One night, Dad was manning the night desk. A call came in about a huge fire in Culver City. Dad called the Culver City Fire Department. The fireman who answered said, "Yeah, we know. They are burning Atlanta over at MGM." The filming of Gone With the Wind had just started.
About the time Dad graduated from high school, he had a girlfriend named Evelyn. Evelyn was convinced that the two of them were destined to spend their lives together. Dad was more hesitant. Grandpa Ross was at the grocery store one day and visited with Evelyn. When Dad came home that day, Grandpa looked at him and said, "I hear you're getting married. Anything you want to tell me?" My Mom's name is Joyce.
I enjoyed your dad's stories. The one about Miss Pickett is interesting because I have studied the Civil War and have visited the Gettysburg battlefield. We don't often think about the descendants of famous people. I read an article once about George S. Patton's grandson, who was born with.... what's the PC word for "retarded" now?
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