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>Well, calling Vince and Frankie "friends", might be a >little strong of a word. We played with Vince and >Frankie, I certainly was never antagonistic with >either of them. They were invited over to our house >any time the neighborhood kids were over. > >Vince might have stayed overnight at our house, I >don't specifically remember a time, but it could have >happened. Frankie certainly stayed over with Georgie >and Michael. (At Mr and Mrs C's house) > >It was for Georgie's birthday, and that night, Nicole >stayed over at my house. > >But the point is that we were all friendly enough, but >I wouldn't say that we were friends. Vince and Frankie >simply lived right there, at the edge of our property, >a couple of houses down from Nicole and Georgie, and >their dad worked for the lumberyard. > >Even before that incident I wasn't keen to visit their >house, as their father wasn't a nice guy. And >afterwards, I avoided that house (and their father) >like as if he were as dangerous as the puckwudgies. > >That particular day, Vince had been with several of us >down at the lumber yard. But apparently Vince wasn't >allowed to go down there. > >I had no way of knowing that. > >Further, I'm actually quite sure that I had seen Vince >and his brother, Frankie, down at the lumberyard >multiple times. And further still, I know that I saw >Vince down there AFTER that day. > >His father worked down there and I think that Frankie >was down there at the time we were being punished. >Vince even had an uncle who worked there. > >But that was all besides the point. > >I WAS allowed down there. There was almost always a >member of my family down there, (Father, Grandfather, >Uncle, Grandmother, various cousins) I was sent down >there on errands from time to time, and I was even >taught how to operate several of the machines. > >(Not so uncommon in the 70s) > >I even had a key to Grandfather's office on a string >around my neck. (I had it that day because, like I >said, I had just come from the lumber yard.) I tried >to explain all this to Mr L, but he just didn't want >to hear any of it. > >He stripped us both down, pulled out a pair of stools, >and made us bend over them. Vince and Frankie were >punished with what they called "whuppings" and what I >got that day is what I always picture in my mind as >the definition of "whupping". > >It was the opposite of the technique that they used at >the boy's school. At school you drop your shorts, bend >over the desk and take 2 to 8 controlled smacks with >the horse-stick then it's over. > >My parents, as well as Mr and Mrs C all had similar >controlled techniques. Mr L, however, he wildly beat >our tails something awful with a large leather belt! > >And I think he might have actually enjoyed it, with me. > >I was screaming at the top of my lungs, as dozens or >more repeated hits very quickly flooded my backside. I >didn't even know until then that it was possible to >handle a belt like that. And for those few minutes, it >felt like I was in the depths of Hell with pain just >overwhelming me! > >After we had both taken our whuppings we were put up >standing facing the wall in their living room for an >hour, with our pants still down, bottoms on full >display, and with hands on our heads. > >So no, after all that I never went into their back >yard and again. Also whenever I saw Mr L down at the >lumber yard, until I was older and more confident I >made sure that Father or Grandfather was between me >and him. > >And when the families all came down for the annual >pool party at our house, I simply stayed away from him. > >When I was about college age, we were in a room >together down in the lumberyard. Mr L made a side >remark to me privately, after he thought I was being >rude to him. > >I shut him up by point-blank telling him that if I >were given the lumberyard, he would be laid off. >"Immediately!" I reminded him that it was my family >that owned this property, and I told him that if he >wanted to take this up with my parents he could, but >then I would explain to them why I was so afraid of >him when I was little. > >I asked him what he thought my parents would think >about that, if they knew the real reason. He didn't >really have an answer. > >I don't know for sure that my parents would have come >down on him. I don't know if they would have >considered what I said to Mr L, to be disrespect. But >I do know that he was frightened enough of my parents >being told the whole truth, that he never dared going >to them with his complaints about me. > >I couldn't kick him out of his house. That house was a >gift from my Great-grandfather to his father (or >grandfather) during the great depression. > >There's a story behind that, but the point is that he >actually owned it, outright. But there was a chance >that his neighbors could all turn against him, and he >had nowhere else to go. > >But it was less than a year after I confronted him, >that he decided to retire from the lumberyard anyway. >In all likelihood he's dead now. I never kept track of >him after he left. > >Georgie still works for my son, and Georgie is still >friends with Frankie, but none of that gives me any >insight into their family.

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