Falling for a Horse or How Barbed Wire played an important part in my life!

I have two cousins - Bob and Pete.  They lived on a dairy farm when I was growing up.  At some point they started to have horses.  It sticks in my mind that both of the boys took riding lessons - no doubt due to their grandmother.  Bob was year older than me and Pete was a year younger.  Oh and at some point they put an in-ground pool in.  So for me it was like going to Disneyland.  We had the barn with the cows, the milk room (where the milk ended up after the cows had been milked), pastures, a creek, the swimming pool, the corn crib, the spring house, and their house was a big old farm house.  I forgot to mention that their mother was a great cook, and I frequently stayed for dinner.  My favorite was the spaghetti dinner and iced tea.  Her spaghetti sauce had a really good and unusual flavor and she made her ice tea with orange juice.  Like I said - Disneyland!

I am not sure how I old I was when the following happened, and it really is a dumb story.  I think I was in late elementary school.  I would guess 5th or 6th grade or even going into 7th grade.  My cousin Pete and I were walking around the property after we were finished swimming.  We walked up and around to the back pasture where the horses (by this time they had two) were.  I thought it would be fun to go into the pasture to see the horses up close and personal.  

I wanted to walk around and go through the barn and out into the pasture.  Pete suggested we climb over the barbed wire fence.  Now I was not a farm boy, but I was pretty sure that stepping over, under, or anywhere near to barbed wire was going to hurt - ME - not him he was a farm boy!  There was this part of a tree on the inside  of the barbed wire fence.  You had to step up into a tree (this was the easiest part FYI), step over the barbed wire and onto the other piece of tree trunk and Wahla you were in with the horses.  

I was not convinced that this was the best idea for me, as I tended to be on the klutzy or unsteady side.  Pete offered to show me how to achieve success without getting hurt.  He executed the maneuver wonderfully, but I was still NOT convinced that my own attempt would end as well.  I told Pete that I was going to cut my leg on the barbed wire.  Pshaw he said to me - that is just silly you will not.  I did not mention that by this time both Bob and Pete were taller than me.  Just a minor detail I am sure, but my legs are not as long as Pete’s.  Pete basically told me I was stupid, and he said watch me and I’ll do it again.  Pete repeated his excellence in climbing proving that really anyone could do this with no harm to oneself.  I still was not buying it  - he might be able to climb over the fence without injury, but I was not going to be so fortunate.  Pete demonstrated one more time and then offered to help me across offering his hand to help keep me steady.  

Against my better judgement, I climbed up the tree, placed my left leg over the barbed wire, and as I brought the right one over,  I slipped, drug my right leg right over a barb and was hanging on the fence.  The first thing I said besides shit - was I told you so!!! Pete helped me off the fence.  I had a slit up the back of my thigh that was easily 6 inches long. Did I mention blood?  Oh my goodness did it bleed.   Pete and I thought it would be a good idea to put leaves over the cut to keep me from bleeding to death.  Then, with Pete holding leaves on the back of my leg (so yes he kind of had his head behind my butt) we walked up the long driveway towards the house. 

We arrived and Pete called his mother.  She came out to look at it - I felt like a dope because I said, I knew this was going to happen.  Pete’s mother, Dolly, (also my cousin) said that she would call my mother.  The trick then was to patch me up so I would not bleed out before my mother arrived.  Once my mother arrived, she took me home. On the way home she kind of told  me, in a very nice way, that I was an idiot.  She called the doctor and got an appt. for later in the day.  I got a shot and the doctor cleaned up my leg.  No stitches required, just a big bandage. The worst part of the whole incident?   I could not visit Disneyland until my leg healed up, which would seem like a life time!!!

The continued saga of my last drive through Spring City

I drove down Main Street in Spring City remembering where I used to ride my bike as a child. I was surprised to see that many of the sidewalks are still brick ... (which were not fun on a bike). Philco plant is still there but now is something else. I always ice skated at the rink out at Spring City Elementary, but Spring City built a rink down near the river.  It was quite large, people were able to build fires, and families could spend the day or evening.  I don’t think the rink had lights making it undesirable for night time skating.  Of course being who I was, I also had to be careful as to who came down to the rink as I did not want to get into a fight with someone. 

 There was the Pumptown Bar, which used to be named something else, but regardless it was still there and business was still thriving, LOL and after I looked for a picture to go with this post, I realized why business was booming!!!  LOL I think I remember someone telling me about this, but I clearly forgot!  I went past the Clemens’ and Wilson’s homesteads.  I started down the hill towards Poplar Street and immediately Darlene Umstead DiCola came to mind as she lived at the corner of Popular and S&K streets.  I had to cross the small bridge under which the sewer flowed creating a creek.  The Creek - If Darlene reads this she will remember the creek.  Actually we pronounced it the crick - Crayfish hunting was a popular activity at the creek.  I found a frog once and took him home to be a pet.  I also took tadpoles home and watched them become frogs.  Many an hour was spent “down at the creek”.  Right next to the creek was the Lumber Yard, which was no longer a lumber yard.  At one time it was a thriving lumber yard.  The house that I lived in was actually a mansion, owned by the owners of the Lumber yard.  

I finally came upon my house.  It is now overgrown and looking much smaller than it did when I was growing up.  It almost looks like the house is sinking down in the front.  It is one of the oldest homes in Spring City.  The house was in poor condition - especially the side I lived in.  My aunt’s side looked much better than mine but still a bit run down.  I was surprised to see that the mailboxes my aunt put out front were still there.  She wanted the mailboxes to match,in fact the front of the house had to be matchey matchey.  I attempted to turn around on Chestnut Street and then pull in across the street from the house.  Of course as I was turning around, I did not look at the traffic around me very carefully and nearly had an accident.  (this would not have been cool) I tried taking a picture or two, and of course while I was snapping pictures, the home owners came home and looked at me with great suspicion.  I thought I probably should leave before I met the Spring City Police - though I suspect it would have been the most excitement in the town in weeks.  

It was time to head for home, and I needed to turn around.  I decided to turn around in Rosie Gappa’s weigh station.  She lived in a very small little house, which had been an office for the lumber yard.  The weigh station was for the coal trucks to pull up into and then weigh the coal.  I spent a lot of time at Rosie’s.  She was a wonderful person.  She did not have a lot but if she could, she shared.  Many summer nights she would sit out front of her house, and I would talk to her for hours.  I think I learned a lot about life during those conversations, because we covered many topics.  I know that she is gone now and hope that she is resting in peace.  

I continued up Main Street and first pasted the Gappa’s house and then Latshaw’s Bakery.  David Willauer grew up there as his father was the baker.  Mr. Willauer was an amazing baker and David’s grandmother Ruth ran the front of the store.  They had the best - well anything they made was the best.  David and I used to play back in the barn and around the bakery.  One of the treats of playing with David was getting a sugar cookie - I think they were the ones they couldn’t sell, but that was always fun.  As I recall he was a really crazy person - I spent a lot of time laughing when I was with him.  I am glad that he had the patience to deal with a younger child! Right past the Bakery was the Liberty Firehouse.  I think the Libs were the pride of Spring City.  I attended the after prom party during my sophomore year of school, and having never been in the Libs, I was stunned at how large the area was including the bowling alley.  Of course living across from a fire house was kind of noisy, but in the end you really got used to it.  I just always remember counting the honks and then checking the key we kept in the kitchen bottom left cabinet.  You knew it was a bad fire if the Royersford fire houses would blow their sirens too.

I headed down Main Street and started to remember where everyone lived.  Mickey Trego, Denise Guadagno, and Clyde Walters came to mind right away.  It was later at night so the town was pretty quiet.  This allowed me to drive slowly down Main Street without making others mad.  I got down to the bank and then remembered that Ida Bickhart used to live across from it.  I also remember that Kathy Leskowicz lived above the cigar store.  Spring City Hotel seemed to be doing a huge business as the front of the restaurant looked packed.   Then I past Mosteller’s Seafood store.  They had the best seafood around.  This is where I learned to love scallops, because that was the only seafood I really liked.  My tastes have grown since, but then no way!  After Mosteller’s closed, it sat empty but had occasional tenants - I think there was a music store in there at one time as well.  Eventually my friend Dean Nafziger moved the business his father started and Dean was running.  Filter- Recon - opened up in there.  I recall visiting him in there frequently.  

Next was Phil Young’s Men’s Store.  Mr. Young and my dad played golf, and naturally he was always telling stories about Phil’s behavior on the golf course.  My brother Kris worked there when he was in high school.  I always wanted to work there myself.  Actually I would have loved to have taken over the business when he closed but that didn’t happen.  I did get my wish the last couple of years he was open; I worked Christmas Holidays for a couple years for him and then helped him close the store.  I have to say the last time I walked out of the store, I had tears in my eyes.  

Swartz’s grocery and kind of 5&10 was next.  It was cool that in Spring City you could walk to Main Street and buy your groceries in three different  stores.  Eddie Willauer’s sold mostly meat, Mosteller’s sold seafood, and Swartz’s sold everything else though they had good meat too.  Dean Nafziger’s mom (June) worked there.  I remember that once in my life I was dared to steal something from Swartz’s.  I think it was a candy bar and it was just a dare. This was the first and last time I ever stole anything.  My guilt was so overwhelming (and I am none of the religious sects that thrive on making you feel guilty).   I felt so bad about what I had done - I went back - on my own - told the owners what I had done and paid them for the candy bar.  Next to them I think was Main Tavern and then Andy’s.  The best meal at supper was often Friday nights when my brothers would come home from college.  My mom never felt like cooking nor did my dad, so they would call Andy’s and order sandwiches and french fries.  I always got a steak with sauce and onions.  That was always the best Friday night meal !

I rounded the corner and there it was - the Schuykill River bridge. Annnnnd

It was closed!  So much for the plans I had of riding through Royersford.  I called my brother, Kris, to ask him if he knew what was going on with the bridge - this bridge was the only link between the twin boroughs.  School was going to start soon and I thought about how complicated it was going to be to get the Spring City students to the school.  My brother did know about the bridge closing, but did not know the details.  I belong to a group on Facebook that is all about Spring City.  I posted the question and got my answer.  They were “hoping” to have the bridge done by the time school started, or they would have to take the students to Royersford via Parkerford.  I turned around in what used to be the Acme and then Genuardi’s, but now I couldn’t tell you what it was.  

I headed up Bridge Street to continue my trek … 

Dad's and their Lawn Mowers or Son get your lazy butt out of bed!!

My dad cutting the grass - though normally he had a baseball cap on along with the scowl on his face

Growing up as teenagers, there was one day a week we all looked forward to - Saturday right?  And how about Saturday morning, the time when we tried to catch up from the lack of sleep we had lost during the week.  As an adult, I still look forward to Saturday mornings for that very reason, and I have been out of work for over a year now.

As a high school student my main objective for Saturday mornings was to sleep in until about noon.  Now that all depended on what was going on that day, but for the most part that was my objective.  N The problem was parents  decided to have me late in their lives.  I have been assured over and over again that there was a family meeting in which my parents discussed, with my brothers, whether or not they wanted another sibling.  My brothers apparently said, "Yes" because here I am.  My brother,  Bob, wanted to name me Harvey Haddock after a famous baseball player.  Thankfully good sense prevailed.  But I digress.

I remember Bob telling me not to let my dad cut the grass, because he was old and therefore should not be doing it.  After all, Bob said, " He could have a heart attack and then wouldn't you feel bad?"          I believe the tactic my brother used to get me to cut the grass is called guilt.  So every, not just some,  Saturday morning around 8 AM,  my dad was out cutting the grass.  I should also mention that the majority of his cutting began in the side yard underneath my bedroom window.  Wasn't that thoughtful of my father?  As this was the days before air conditioning my windows were normally wide open.  How could I not hear the roaring sounds of the lawn mower?   I would open the window, stick my head out and yell for him to, " Stop."  He would stop, and then I would yell down to him that, " I would cut the grass when I was ready!" (like about 1 PM).  He would yell back at me, "Well I'm ready now."  I would quietly huff, roll my eyes (as any teenager worth his/her salt will do), and yelled down to him that he could stop I'd be down in a minute.  I would quickly get dressed, run down the steps, grab a glass of OJ, and head out to where the mower was sitting (yes directly under my bedroom window).  I could complete our small side yard, the big yard next to our house that actually belonged to the Foundry, and then a portion of our backyard as my Aunt was not happy with how I cut her grass, so she made her older husband do it.  Then I was able to return to the inside of the house and eat my breakfast.

I will say that this did not happen every single Saturday, but there were not many Saturdays my father missed playing this game with me.  I don't know if he knew what Bob told me and that was why he worked me like he did, or if he just thought I was lazy,  and he wanted me out of bed.  Regardless, most of my Saturday mornings, (during grass cutting months) always began like this.  And let me tell you that this little game we played went on for all three years of my attending high school.

So when ever I hear the roar of a lawn mower and the scent of freshly cut grass I am reminded of those Saturday mornings, during my teenage years, when my father "worked me" into cutting the grass for him every Saturday morning no matter what.

Me cutting the grass - yep that is about right too - blank expression- shorts, tank top, and baseball cap

First let me say that I fear that almost no matter what I say - if either of my brothers or family members read this it could spell trouble.   Therefore this post will be about me and not so much about them.  When I was in graduate school a few years ago for Clinical Psych.,  we talked about birth order quite a bit and how it has an effect on each child.  I suppose there are probably many of these charts floating around the internet. I just happened to come across this one.  I think it is safe to say that "one size" does not fit all when it comes to issues of psychology.  Usually situations are more complex than a simple chart.  Most of these charts need to be seen for what they are; some kind of a guide to help explain certain personality qualities or characteristics. Naturally they are fun to look at and see how much you are like who you are supposed to be!  Take me for example,  I am a last child but because of my brother's ages compared to mine, I was raised more like an only child.  Truth be told, by the time I was starting to become a little boy who wanted to play sports and be active, my dad was just about all out of energy.  My brother Bob picked up that slack, and had me outside playing baseball, giving me a concussion playing football (so now you know the truth :-)  and we played basketball.  Sadly I never grew really enough to play any of those sports but baseball.  Despite my twirling proclivities, my hand eye coordination - when it came to baseball - was pathetic.   I just didn't get the concept of swinging the bat at the ball - no I mean at the ball with purpose.  If I ever got a hit, it was pure divine intervention - and can assure you I had no hand in that.  It wasn't long before Bob went off to college, and I was left to my own devices except when he came home.  I liked wrestling with him, and when he became and assistant wrestling coach, he worked with me.  Bring on concussion number 2.  He accidentally slammed me to the floor in one of our wrestling bouts!  (Somehow I think you are all getting the picture here with my brain :-)  

As I grew older and Bob was around less, there were few peers in my neighborhood.   I had to entertain myself and so started the twirling thing.  It was athletic, despite what some thought, and I could do it by myself.  It turns out that by myself was how I spent a large chunk of my teenage years.  But this story is not about all of that, this is about birth order.  So for the sake of this post I will look at both the last born and only child.  Why?  As I said - by the age of five I was an only child pretty much. 

 I was not,  am still not much of risk taker, however I was very close to my mother.  My relationship with my father did not really flourish until we moved to Lancaster in the late 80's.  Pretty much most of my life I wanted Mom to divorce him as I did not feel like he was treating her well, and I was pretty much verbally abused most of my early and teenage years.  Which takes me to sensitive and sense of humor.  I was very - no wait - I am very sensitive.  I am hurt easily (not like in my teens) but I am hurt easily.  Bur on the flip side of that, I also believe I have a really good sense of humor.  Hey growing up me - a sense of humor was a requirement for sure.  I am mostly out-going but it has only been since I began therapy that I was able to gain some self-control.  I can look back now and see how, at times, I was way out of control!  Many might say I am self-centered.  I can tell you that I work really hard not to be, and if I sense that I am being self-centered - I try to cool it.  Mature - that makes me laugh.  20 plus years of working with teenagers keeps you young.  I am still waiting to hit my growth spurt and grow up!!!  I know it is going to be a very long wait!!!  Financially Irresponsible  - where can I begin? If you ask my brothers they will probably tell you I am way irresponsible and it gets blamed on being the only child.  After having a serious bought with depression in 2000, and then having to go through a bankruptcy due to the depression.  Yes folks, like many who go through depression, they by things because they think it will make them feel happy.  I ended up playing credit card roulette.  And back then, being on time was not possible for me.   I was always just slightly more than fashionably late- I was annoyingly late!  Back then this was actually something I seemed to enjoy.  As far as being competitive is concerned - you do not win the awards I did in high school by not being competitive.  This trait is pretty strong throughout many of the Harker's and passed down through generations.  We are a competitive bunch for sure!  I never saw myself as demanding, quite the contrary, and in fact, I have often felt that I need to step that part of me up a bit.  I do get bored easily for sure, especially since all the knee surgeries.  This is because up until about two years ago, I was still taking my flags, rifle, and saber to empty parking lots to practice.  That has always been my escape.  The iPod has made that so easy to take your music with you, and you don't bother others.  They just think you are crazy jumping and dancing around with color guard equipment in your hands and there is no music!!!  What's that old saying, "Do me wrong once, shame on you.  Do me wrong twice shame on me."  I don't completely operate that way, I generally give a few more chances than one, but once you have done me dirty too many times, I have to be honest, I move on.  And really who does not like to be pampered?  That alone is such a general statement as most of these really are.  I love going to a massage therapist and having a great massage.  I can't afford it now and miss it, but there is a bit of pampering I love!!  Private - really - I am spilling my guts on this blog!  I would have to say that private just does not fit me.  For the most part, I am an open book, if you take the time to get to know me.  

That covers them all.  I could go on and talk about how some fit my brother and some do not.  As I said, not that I think either of them are reading this, there is no reason to start a war.  Some fit them and some are not even close, but as I said, many of these are not a real scientific measure of a person's birth order personality.  They are great fun to look at and compare to, but generally unless you are looking at a tested instrument, these are more of a guide than facts.  Have fun with it and see how you fit in, have your friends do it too.  One of these charts is a great way to launch some good genuine conversation and that is never a bad thing.  

And remember that families come in all shapes and sizes today!!!!