|Me (in the chair) and my brother Isaac watching TV at our Boot Road apartment - 1953|
Back in the Fifties, 1954 I think, our family moved from our $22.00 a month 2nd floor apartment at 120 Washington Avenue in Downingtown to a rent free 2nd floor apartment on Boot Road, Downingtown, Pennsylvania.
|Our apartment at the Boot Road house - that's my Mom with her parakeet on the covered porch - 1953|
David Ginsburg, the owner of Gindy Trailers offered my father the apartment rent free if our family would live there and act as watchmen/guardians/gatekeepers of the manufacturing plant which was right next door. This was an offer my father (my Mother actually since she handled the finances of the family) couldn't turn down. Since we were literally dirt poor, this afforded our family to save enough money to build our own modest house, which my parents did in 1958. More about that house in a future posting.
I remember moving into the Gindy apartment just as I was going into sixth grade, which would have been 1953. I was 12 years old, having been born in November of 1941, one month before Pearl Harbor (a distinction I'll have all my life for which I am rightfully proud).
The apartment was fairly large, larger than the apartment we lived in the previous six years. We had a full kitchen, living room, one bathroom and two bedrooms. I was still sharing a bed and a bedroom with my two younger brothers for which I was none to happy. About a year later my Mother gave me my very own bed which I put in the corner of the bedroom. I was so happy to finally having my own bed after years of sleeping with my brothers and my younger uncles (my father's younger brothers Sam and Bruce who lived with us for a while. To this day I prefer to sleep alone. Bill sleeps in his own room in the basement and I sleep BY MYSELF in the master bedroom.
|Check it out! My first bed (in the corner). Still had to share the same bedroom with my brothers but I HAD MY OWN BED! Progress, one step at a time.|
I have never been comfortable sleeping with anyone. Even in my heyday of tricking and bringing numbers home I would make every effort to get them out once the nasty was completed. Yep, I was ONE OF THOSE.
I wasn't always successful in sending out into the night my latest paramour and thus would be trapped having to sleep with him (and yes, it was always a "HIM") for the night. Some would even want to cuddle. EWWW! I don't like to be touched either. Maybe that was because I was brought up without hugs. I'm not complaining, just stating the facts....ma'am.
I'm reading a gay book now about this guy who is bemoaning the fact that he has to SLEEP ALONE. I guess this another gay gene I missed out on along with my disdain for Broadway melodies, I LIKE TO SLEEP ALONE.