Throwback Thursday - The Notebooks

To clear up some confusion, the Notebook passages posted on Throwback Thursday were written by my father and found by me after he passsed away. They were his attempt to tell the family history. He was in his late 80s or early 90s when he wrote them. Today's chapter:

 This was 1933 the year Charlie Arnold [ed: mentor] came into my life in the summer of that year. [ed: Dad was 14 years old] Evidently the Board Members of the Central Square Center and funded by the Hynes fund had clout. They opened the playground. For years summers every summer the school yards were closed. And also at the end of the school day, holidays, etc. They were closed. Of course, that did not prevent us from climbing the fences and getting in. We also had to watch for the police. They had keys made for them and they could get into the school and then open the door into the schoolyard. We played in the Jr. high school yard [ed: Donald McKay School] The play yard was large and we played not too far from the 8 foot fence. When the look out hollered, "Guinea Walligi" [ed: derogatory term for police officer], we scrambled to the fence. We had to do that the first part two feet above the ground, the 2nd movement on the cross bar 4 feet above the ground, 3rd 2 feet up = 6 ft. and the last effort 2 ft more on the 8 foot cross bar, hang on the other side and drwop down and off we would go. Sometimes the Guinea Walligi would chase us on the street we would run into the building, up the the 3rd floor to the roof and then jump from roof top to roof top and elude the officer. [ed: the houses were so close together neighbors in different houses could pass sugar through a window]. We were always on the look out for him. Of course, we told our friends to make sure that the roof doors were open. If they failed us and we got caught, they would be mud. At the time we also had the school build by the church [ed: Our Lady of Mont Carmel School] When it was due to open we climbed the blocks to the second floor window. They were indented about the length of the finger tip. I tried it. I got to the top but on the way down the feet and fingers were slippery due to the silicon and I fell to the ground. As I went down I hit the side of the water pipe and when I landed I noticed by right leg trouser was torn and so wasn't the sie of my leg on the knee side. As usual I walked to the Relief Station and I got put on the table while the police on duty held me down and the interns and nurses while the octor stitched me up. No ether, no putting to sleep. I did not let a sound come out of me. I said to myself I'm not going to holler. Took 5 stitches. The police officer must have been surprised, probably spent a lot of time there and heard many a boy or man cry out. Doctor said, "Ok, you can go now," and I got off the table and walked out. The officer had a "that kid is one hell of a tough guy. Imagine not a peep out of him and going like nothing happened. I got trained to not to hurt. My teachers used the rattan when ever we kids acted up. My ninth grade principal, Miss Sullivan, who much later became Superintendent of the Boston school system. In my French class, I had a teacher who was cute, had a good sense of humor and if we acted up she would kick us out of the classroom. One such day I ran into Miss Sullivan in the hallway and she asked, "What are you doing out of class?" I told her and she took me into the classroom Told Miss Livone that she would have to witness discipline after class. So I put my hand out, Sully went to work. It was spring at that time and I had been playing baseball catch and both hands were toughened by the catching [ed: he didn't have a baseball glove] No reaction. No pulling back. Sully was frustrated and she got a work out.