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Tim Jones (Jones)
Yes, Fredrick and Nelson and the Bon were magical at Christmas. Frangos were always in our Christmas stockings. One of those special gifts that mom gave at various times of the year. Growing up in the late 50's early sixties seems so idealistic looking back. We Boomers had it pretty good.
I remember getting my driver's license at 16, doing the test in my dad's big Oldsmobile 98 in White Center. That must have looked comical to the observer. The licensing agent was very annoyed with me, but passed me, a punk kid. I had been driving my Model 'T' Ford on the streets since I was 12. I remember passing a cop on Sylvester road in the Model 'T' when I was about 14. I was wearing a 1920's Bowler hat. He looked at me like, what the hell? Didn't stop me, though.....
I was very immature in various ways, but mechanically inclinded. My older brother, Jim (Highline 60) was extremely curious and a great inspiration to me. I learned so much from him. School sucked because I didn't start to learn to read until I was in my early teens, so I was always behind in school. Winter/Spring of 1956-57 in public school in Indio, California. Mom needed a dry climate for health reasons. I loved school there. I really blossomed at 10 - 11 years of age.
In Indio, there was a boy our age that should have been in our class but had serious health issues. His parents would bring him to school on occasion at recess to spend time with kids his age. Donny had an extreme case of Cerebral Palsy. He was literally skin and bones. Donny had braces on his legs, braces on his arms and a permanent pair of crutches.
Donny couldn't talk, at least I never heard him speak, but Donny could laugh. We set up a high jump out in the play yard; cross bar 3 to 4 feet off the ground and a bale of hay spread out on the ground to land on. One by one, my class mates took turns jumping over the high bar. Some made it and some knocked the bar off. Either way, Donny would laugh and laugh.
I really grew up that winter of 56-57. After meeting Donny I didn't feel sorry for myself anymore. Came to realize I had it pretty good. The age group, ten, eleven is such an interesting age, at least for males in my opinion. The eleven year old boy sees the world around him very clearly. Hasn't entered puberty, yet, which will cloud his thinking. The average male won't have that clarity of vision again until he reaches the age of 65 or 70. That's why Aboriginal cultures have male elders as their Chiefs.
Good memories..... Youth is wasted on the young!
Picture: Easter Sunday in Indio, California - 1957 Me on left
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