The Peach Tree Limb

By Jim Dobkins

The author relives adventures he experienced in 1940's and 1950's California as the son of a conman who served six prison terms and was married five times. Ranging from humor to serious, we go from Midnight the nannygoat baby-sitter to nearly driving the pickup off a cliff and getting the truck off the train tracks seconds before a freight train roared by, and a most unusual birthday present.

• Language: English
• Publisher: UCS PRESS
• Release date: Oct 28, 2010
• ISBN: 9780943247939

Jim Dobkins

Jim Dobkins is an author/publisher. He and his wife own the UCS PRESS imprint, which is the imprint for all of their e-book editions. He is author of The Peach Tree Limb and co-author of nine books: Winnie Ruth Judd: The Trunk Murders; Machine-Gun Man; The Ararat Conspiracy; My boss was the BTK killer; The Theft of America's Heritage; The Facts Are Talking, But Who's Listening?; Darwinian Delusion; 371 Days That Scarred Our Planet; and The Submerging Church. The Judd book enjoyed an 18-month run in Doubleday Bargain Book Club and has been optioned six times as a possible film; it was nominated for Crime Book of the Year.Dobkins conceptualized Someone Who Cares, a documentary short that was accepted in the Oscar competition.He has ghost-written fiction and nonfiction books.His professional career includes being a sportswriter/columnist, publications editor, newspaper publisher, ad agency publicity director, and freelance writer. He graduated with a Political Science degree from Arizona State University.Dobkins and his wife Marty live in Arizona. They have a son, daughter, and seven grandchildren.Print additions of Dobkins’ books may be purchased at http://www.marjimbooks.com

Book preview

What readers are saying about

The Peach Tree Limb:

Fascinating!

Pete Strupp, who lives and works in Taiwan

"It is awesome. I can see the Little Rascals all over.

Should be a movie."

Sandy Watson, owner of a daycare business in Virginia

The Peach Tree Limb gives insight into one growing up in a by gone era.  The humor, color, and stories remind me of my own days from childhood.  It gives freshness to a period that at times has begun to fade in our memories.  It is great reading and I recommend it to all.

Ronald L. Rushing, pastor, Tucson, Arizona

Bravo! This is a brave book and a wonderful book.

Valeri Marsh, author, Scottsdale, Arizona

Delightful!

Ladelle Peabody, music director, Teen Challenge of Arizona

And after she had just read the first segment, The caboose hurt:

That was a cute little chapter!  It's like the Andy Griffith show in 2.5 pages. ;-)

Mona Morstein, naturopath/author, Tempe, Arizona

The Peach Tree Limb

Jim Dobkins

Published by UCS PRESS

Copyright 2010 by Jim Dobkins

UCS Press

Prescott Valley, AZ 86314

Cover design by Marti Dobkins

ISBN 978-0-943247-93-9

This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

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You are about to partake of my memories.  Some are funny.  Others serious.  And some border on the unbelievable, like the one about Midnight, the black nanny goat that was my baby-sitter when I was three years old.  But, I assure you, everything revealed in this book actually happened.  It's my story . . . and I'm sticking to it.

Table of Contents

Introduction

First Romance: The caboose hurt

Part One: Silverado Canyon

Part Two: Harbor Boulevard

Part Three: Topeka and Sutter Street

About the Author

Introduction

I originally intended to write the anecdotes on these pages for my son David and daughter Lisa. Then, during the years I was thinking about getting around to it, seven grandchildren were born. I reasoned that it would be nice to also leave a written legacy—a word picture of their grandpa’s experiences—for them.

Have you ever purposely sat down and tried to pull a lifetime of memories from your brain, and twirl them into little, separate adventures that merge into a portrait of your life—all the while hoping that each episode will make the reader anxious to see what happens next?

Yours truly went through that process while stringing together the 50 or so anecdotes that comprise this little book. It was at times an amazing trip down memory lane. At other times it was an emotional roller-coaster, sinking into sad memories that sometimes lingered and resulted in reflections I had not dwelled on in many years.

People who knew about my childhood and background kept telling me that I should write a book about my life. Having co-authored nine books, ghostwritten several more, and written over 1,000 press releases and articles, I’ve always been more comfortable writing about others than about myself.

Ben Jordan, my freshman English teacher during the 1958-59 school year at Phoenix Union High School in Phoenix, Arizona said that you should write what you know about.

Sounds so simple yet so few people who want to write take that advice seriously. Several years before he died in 1993 he talked me into letting him tape me verbalizing some of the episodes in this book. He said, Some day people will want to know about your life.

Part of my preparation for this book was transcribing those tapes. In turn, as I began putting each adventure on paper other memories began flowing. I’ve done some stupid and boring things in my life, but I have not lived a boring life. I want my son and daughter and those seven grandchildren to vicariously experience what I did as a boy from roughly mid-1946 to October 1957.

My grandchildren, especially, need to know why they and their parents are alive. For me, that was the most difficult segment to write.

They need to know that you can turn out okay—even if your dad is a con artist who served six prison terms, was married five times, took ore from a silver mine that wasn’t his, and tried to sell a large cattle ranch that also was not his.

They should know about the times their grandpa could have been seriously injured or killed.

They should know what it’s like living with eight individual and sets of parent substitutes, including two foster homes.

And what it’s like to live in six different residences, attend five different schools, and live in two states—all within ten months.

They also should know what it’s like to have polio and survive body temperatures as high as 108 degrees.

Of course, they should know what it’s like living on a truck farm/chicken ranch across the street from where Disneyland later was built.

But above all else they need to know about the one steadying influence in their grandpa’s life.

My brother John helped clarify some memories that support his contention that I was a feisty little boy.

Meanwhile, my Cousin Eugene remembers some events differently than I do. But that’s okay. He can write his own book.

Two other writers—Mary Hanford Bruce and Valeri Marsh—and my wife Marty provided encouragement that spurred me to finally put these anecdotes on paper and make them available for you to read. My daughter Lisa and long-time friend and writing colleague Jim Porter provided insightful editing comments.

I hope you enjoy this self-drawn portrait of my life’s early years.

Jim Dobkins

Dedication

For my son David, daughter Lisa, and grandchildren Shane, Elijah, Ashley, Joshua, Heaven, Cherish and Nikolai.

First Romance: The caboose hurt

It was Julie’s suggestion that we run away and get married. I thought it was a good idea. We liked each other, played well together, and laughed a lot. Grandma had said, Laughter is good medicine. And since Grandma said it, it must be true. Therefore, Julie and I were always well medicated.

Julie lived in the house just north of my grandparents’ property. She had my attention anytime she wanted it. Come to think of it, she had a way of being in charge. But that was okay with me as she was an older woman, having lived a full six years to my five-and-a-half years.

It was about 150 feet from our house to Julie’s house. I made many trips to the room at the back of the house where she, her sister Sherrie and I often played during that summer of 1949. Sherrie was a few months younger than I, and played a supporting role in our activities. She always was the patient when Julie played nurse to my doctor. Likewise, she was always our little girl when Julie and I were Mommy and Daddy. Sometimes Sherrie was our puppy that liked to have its back scratched.

As the weeks passed, Julie and I talked about getting married when we grew up. At the time it seemed to be a given etched in reality.

Then one day Julie said, Jimmy, let’s run away and get married.

I thought it over for a few seconds. I’ll go get some things.

Meet me by the road, she giggled, leaned close and kissed me on the cheek.

Well, I told Grandma that I was going to run away with Julie and get married. I did not know how she would react to the news. I had a feeling she might not approve. After all, I was only a little boy and I knew that when most people got married they were a lot older than I was. So, being the very honest little boy that I was, I told Grandma everything.

I expected Grandma to be mad, but she wasn’t. She said I needed to pack my best clothes. She walked me into the bedroom I shared with my older brother John. He was off somewhere with his girlfriend Sally.

Grandma got out my little suitcase and put my suit in it and some other clothes she said I would need. Then she said, You will need some food to eat until you get to where you are going.

She fixed some peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and put them into a brown paper bag along with some oatmeal cookies. Then she walked me through the dining room and living room to the front door. She opened the door out onto the porch. She didn’t lean down and give me a kiss or hug or anything, but handed the suitcase and paper bag to me and said, You’ll need these things, and you will make a good husband for Julie.

Grandma stood on the porch as I walked away.

Well, I was about 20 feet from the porch and couldn’t help thinking, She’s being nice to me. I don’t really have any money to go anywhere. I don’t know what I am going to do.

I was able to think things through like that.

Gee whiz, I thought. What if Julie can’t make peanut butter and jelly sandwiches like Grandma?

Right then and there I made a major decision. I put the suitcase down, and thought for a few more seconds. I picked up the suitcase, turned around and walked back to the porch. Grandma, I want to stay a bachelor.

She said, Well, Jimmy, if that is the decision you feel you should make, then that is the decision you should make.

Later that evening I was out on the front porch playing with the four wooden cars of my little train set. I sensed someone near the porch and looked up. Julie was angry, and I did not understand at the time why she was so mad. Anyway, during the course of her getting more upset with me, she grabbed the caboose, turned and walked a few steps. She whirled, screamed and threw the caboose at me, hitting me right in the middle of my left eyebrow. The scar remained covered by my eyebrow for many years.

My ardor for Julie waned considerably after that.

Part One: Silverado Canyon

The day Dad fetched