Listen... Long Story Short: Triumphs, Tragedies and Narrow Escapes

By Gary Day

From a first-time published author comes this collection of short stories which follows the tales of Luke Armstrong, an all-American boy, who encounters glory and misfortune. Follow Luke from his childhood on the waterfront through his career and retirement from a US intelligence agency. Meet the people, places and times which molded Luke Armstrong from the 1960's to today.

During times in his life, the character finds himself in idiotic situations, lost romances and plagued by death of friends and relatives.

The Early Years introduces the reader to important people and friends of Luke Armstrong. One of the stories will make you question what the character actually witnesses and perhaps why his parents were so quick to move from Luke's favorite place in the world.

Life in the Big City is a glimpse into the life of a boy in Baltimore City,1962.

Life in the Beach reflects on the perfect place to raise a child or was it. Scared friends, a bully and bad baseball sums it all up.

High School sees some of the challenges for a teen boy in a private school only to be transferred to a public school. Luke goes from a rejected canvas artist to a theatrical scenic artist. All this and a hurricane.

Broadcasting remembers a time when TV and radio signals only traveled through the air. See how Luke struggles to make his way as a Broadcast Engineer in small market TV and radio.

The Agency Years follows Luke through his personnel and professional life while at the Agency and learn what Luke's consequences are for working in this environment.

Retirement follows the character through his challenges with his mom's dementia from beginning to her end, his adventure in Cabo, Mexico, and his life today.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Jun 13, 2022
• ISBN: 9781667845296

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The actual events and conversations in this book have been set down to the best of the author’s ability, although some names and details have been changed to protect the privacy of individuals. Luke and Kelly Armstrong are pseudonyms for the author and his wife.

Copyright © 2022 by Gary J. Day

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission.

First edition

Published by Gary J. Day

ISBN: 978-1-66784-528-9 (printed)

ISBN: 978-1-66784-529-6 (eBook)

For Nicole, Tyler and Dylan.

Special thanks to my wife for her love, patience and support.

Contents

Introduction

Prologue

The Early Years

A Letter From the Beach

Trees

Click-Clack

Chores

One Halloween Night

One Summer’s Day (As told by six-year-old Luke)

A Fish Tale Summer 1962

Just One of Those Days

Life in the Big City

Time Management

1721

Clip-Clop

The Good Die Young

Bedsheets

Life in the Beach

The Trial Run

True Friends

Bar Harbor

Dewey Decimal

The Sandlot

Baseball

One Syllable

Bully for Luke

Lawns

High School

The Search

The Tower

Running on Empty

A Day at the Park

Dripping Blood

The Boot

The Water Tower

Girls

The Yellow Canoe

Redirection

Ah, the Theater

Agnes Oh, Agnes

A Few of the Shows

Senior Year

Buddy Ray

Broadcasting

Tech School

Radio

Television

Bodega

The Search

The Find

Spiral Stairs

Cars

Trucking

We Need a Union

End of Transmission

The Agency Years

Uncle Sam’s Calling

Broadcast Quality

Monsignor

One Night in China Town

Incident on the Thoroughfare

A Solemn Moment

The Bell Tower

Around the Tavern

A Winter Drive

City Sidewalk

Selling His Soul

A Sign of the Times

One Saturday Afternoon

Casualties

Luke’s Kids

Mission

Luke’s Old Man

What Got Tim

Animated Affairs

Facilities

Mrs. Armstrong

Just Another Bully

The Team

Ending on a High Note

Retirement

Luke’s Mom

Wait. What?

Quietus

Retail

Another Fish Tale

Luke Today

Introduction

On New Year’s Eve 1954, Luke Armstrong’s mother and father were shopping at the fish market located on the corner of East Baltimore and East Lombard Streets, in Baltimore City (now the site of the Port Discovery Children’s Museum) when his mother’s water broke at around 4:00PM. It was a cold partly cloudy day. Seeing this, Luke’s father ran to fetch the car which was parked a half a block away. He then threw the shopping bags in the back seat and drove his wife five and a half miles to St. Agnes Hospital. Luke was always curious about why his parents only had one child. After all, Luke’s aunts and uncle had multiple children. Luke’s mom always answered his question by saying, Because one of you is plenty enough.

Luke Armstrong’s generation has experienced and continues to experience some of the most turbulent times in modern history; Russian and Chinese above and below ground nuclear bomb testing, assassinations of a president and key leaders, race riots, the Vietnam War and its protests, the threat of being drafted into the Vietnam conflict, hate crimes in the South, home grown and foreign national terrorist attacks, two global pandemics and climatic changes. Luke and his friends survived all this. With all this going on, Luke managed to have an ideal childhood and adulthood. He loved his parents. But when they decided to move Luke, at eight years of age, to another neighborhood, they lost his respect. His mom’s only explanation was, This neighborhood is becoming too dangerous. Luke would hold a grudge for the rest of his life.

Luke would bury relatives and friends way too early in his life. As with a lot of people, Luke faced disappointment and heartache throughout his life. It took Luke Armstrong, what seemed like forever, to find his way to a satisfactory job and financial success. However, through all his trials and tribulations, Luke would never forget where he came from. These are his stories.

Prologue

Luke Armstrong is standing alone at the top of the bulkhead stairs looking out at the bluish-green water lapping against the pier pilings. It’s an early warm fall day with a breeze. Leaves on the trees are just starting to turn. He’s wearing a T-shirt, bellbottom jeans with holes in the knees and desert boots without socks. His jeans have paint splatter—a hazard from painting scenery for his high school’s stage productions. The tide is going out, which is fitting because Luke is also on his way out. Luke stares out at a wooden boat painted red, white and blue with an outboard motor. He is traveling down the center of the creek and the man in the boat seems to be returning from a day of fishing, probably perch. His wake is making small uneventful waves. They begin slowly lapping against the concrete bulkhead. Luke lowers his eyes and turns his attention to the pier in front of him, not daring to walk down onto it. The pier is where he learned to crab, fish, swim and captain a boat. The pier is now empty with the exception of a stressed lawn chair, its frame pitted from the sea air and its green-white striped seat and back straps well-worn from use. A boat is missing from the pier, gone from its moorings. The owner never to return. Luke turns around and stares out at the property expecting to see some sign of life but quickly realizing they are all dead now. First Pops, then Grandma, Uncle Frank and now Mr. Rudy. Luke is eighteen years now. He stops by to lock up the house. In the panic to remove the body no one checked the door. Luke takes in one more panoramic view of his younger life. He remembers the warm summer days that were his early childhood. A single tear rolls down his right cheek. He tells himself it’s just from the breeze. Luke turns and slightly drops his head and takes that long walk to the car, never to look back, only to hold these memories in a secure place in his heart.

The Early Years

A Letter From the Beach

Whenever times got tough for Luke he would think back to these times and people with nothing but fond memories and a regret that he would not have more time with these characters who molded his personality and his paths in life. Welcome to 1960s Pasadena, Maryland. Houses along the water were established around the early 1900s. Back then poor people lived along the water because they couldn’t afford a home in the city. However, when city people wanted to escape the heat of the city, they’d visit areas like Mt. Pleasant Beach, Riviera Beach, Sunset Beach and areas along Ft. Smallwood Road. After World War 1 or as it was originally known The Big One or the war to end all wars, more people began to build on or near the water. With loosely based building codes in place, a lot of them built their houses themselves, like Luke’s grandfather. Soon the housing development areas began to be known as Beaches. They took on these names no matter how small their actual beach was. In Luke’s world, Mt. Pleasant, Sunset and Riviera Beach would influence him the most.

There is only one entrance into Mt. Pleasant Beach. Coming from Baltimore City’s direction you drive down Ft. Smallwood Road, cross the Stoney Creek bridge, continue driving about 2 miles, then make a right onto Duvall Highway. Continue past the corn field about a 1/2 mile then make a right at the huge oak tree onto Stoney Drive. A few houses with an acre each are on the left. When you make a left at the bend, just after the neighborhood Club House, you’ll pass Luke’s uncle and aunt’s house, on the right. That’s where his three cousins live. As you continue straight down the road, a street will appear on the right. It’s Pleasant Drive but it’s not that pleasant. That’s where the trashy people live. Their homes are falling down around them. They have multiple abandoned cars in the yards mixed in with a mattress or two. If Luke ever needs to go down this street it’s fast peddling all the way on his bike. Continuing down the street, towards the water, you pass Luke’s friend Davey’s house on the right. It sits on the corner of Wharf Drive and Beach Drive. Make a right onto Beach Drive and you’ll see Luke’s house on the right. His parents’ property sits on the corner of Beach Drive and Mt. Drive.

Mt. Pleasant Beach in Pasadena was far from picture postcard living. It was low-income families with stay-at-home moms, hardworking dads and retirees. Retirees mostly lived along the water by the time Luke came along. Luke’s house sits on Beach Drive. It is a two-story craftsman style with a white stucco exterior. It has a screened in porch in the back, a fence, a dirt cellar and a German Shepard dog. The front entrance to the house is close to the street. Opening the Birch storm door, you would then enter through the wooden entrance door and find yourself in the living room. To the left is a sitting area in front of Luke’s mom and dad’s bedroom. A curtain hangs as a door at the entrance to the bedroom. Straight in, after the living room, is the dining room. After that is the kitchen, then the screened in porch. There is always a case of National Bohemian beer sitting on the floor of the kitchen. The case sits waiting for empty bottles so they can be returned to the liquor store for the exchange of a full case. The kitchen also houses a small vinyl-top table with three metal chairs with matching red/white vinyl cushions and backs. Luke’s room is on the second floor along with a full bath and shower across the hall.

Luke Armstrong and his parents live across the street from Luke’s grandma. She is his dad’s mom. His grandma lives in the shotgun style house closest to the street. A friend of the family, Mr. Rudy, lives in the shotgun style house on the right, closest to the water. Luke has friends scattered all along Beach Drive. Two streets down from Luke’s house is a gravel paved boat ramp with a small beach. This was Luke Armstrong’s home and his world along Stoney Creek in Pasadena, Maryland. And as far as he was concerned, he would live here through his final days.

A pub-style restaurant/liquor store named Shangri-La and Weedon’s seafood restaurant/liquor store are a country block away from each other in Mt. Pleasant Beach. No corner grocery stores. Luke and his parents needed to travel down Duvall Highway and turn on Ft. Smallwood Road to get groceries. 3B’s Bakery on Ft. Smallwood Road is closest to the Armstrong’s’ residence. There’s also an Acme grocery store and Matuskey’s Grocery and Bar, on Ft. Smallwood Road, near Riviera Beach.

Luke and his parents would go to Weedon’s seafood restaurant usually once a week for dinner. Even though the restaurant was within walking distance, Luke’s dad would still drive. After all, this was their big evening out. Now, there was a guy named Old Joe who almost every Friday purchased a case of beer at Weedon’s liquor store on the back side of the restaurant. Joe’s problem was that he’d already had a few too many beers before he showed up to purchase more. So, from their restaurant view, Luke and his parents watched Old Joe as he tried to carry the newly acquired case of beer to his car. (During this time period, cases of beer were thick waxed cardboard with a hinged split top and holes in the side for handles.) Well here comes overweight, stocky Joe, waddling along the wooden pier which separated the liquor store from the marsh area. He’s got both hands in the carry holes and the case resting on his beer belly. Joe loses his footing on one of the pier’s planks and tumbles side down into the marsh, beer case still in his hands. Luke’s dad, looking out the restaurant window says There goes Ole’ Joe again. And he’d keep on eating. Joe would just be lying in the marsh flailing like a turtle on its back. After a few minutes, Luke would hear the sirens of the Powhattan Rescue Squad. The first thing Old Joe would ask the rescue worker was. Is the beer, ok? The rescue captain would look down at Old Joe from the pier and say, Joe, if this happens again, we’re goin’ to have to send you a bill. Three times is enough. Weedon’s always had music playing. It is a smokey, loud, bar and restaurant. It’s where Luke first heard Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree by Patsy Cline and also a lot of Elvis. The place served the best soft crab sandwiches around. Luke would always take all the toppings off the sandwich so the crab would keep its crunch. Without fail Luke would pull the claws off and save them for last. After all the claws were the crunchiest part. The fries were usually soggy but ketchup always cured that.

Parents and elderly people were nice enough in the Beach but the teenagers and twenty somethings were a bit rowdy. Take the time a kid from the other side of the Beach, from where Luke was living decided to start riding his motorcycle behind people’s mailboxes. He would try and squeeze between street light poles and the mailbox, which is about a 3’ gap. Home owners placed their mailboxes in front of the street light/power poles in case they needed to get the mail after the sun went down. Luke was never quite sure if they were concerned about vampires, werewolves or muggers. The referenced motorcyclist spent about a week performing this trick. One late afternoon Luke’s grandma is walking him to his parents’ house when the motorcyclist comes by and successfully rides between the pole and grandma’s mailbox. This infuriates Luke’s grandma. She’d seen this trick too many times. She proceeds to get a 2x4 from the garage, then drives two staggered rows of 12d size nails through the board and she buries it between the mailbox and pole. It’s tough to imagine Luke’s fat grandma wearing her house coat and digging a trench but Luke is now convinced that you can do almost anything in a house coat. Around the same time the following day, grandma and Luke sit on Luke’s front step to watch what happens. Luke’s mom sees them on the front step and says What are you two doing on the steps? Grandma says, Just watch, Mary. Now, we hear the kid come screeching around the bend, steering the bike with pinpoint accuracy towards the mailbox. He hits the nails straight on, blowing both tires. He attempts to gain control of the bike but ends up face down on the asphalt at the next corner. Upon seeing this unfold, Luke yells, Jump’n Jesus grandma. As Luke’s grandma walks back cross the street to her house, Luke sees the kid limping along down the road with busted up knees and hands dragging his wrecked motorcycle. He never comes by again.

Mt. Pleasant Beach was the perfect place for Luke Armstrong to be a kid. Summer was the most fun. There was always fishing and crabbing with friends. Eating wild blackberries until his stomach almost burst. Then paying the price the next day. Hanging out on the pier or over in Davey’s yard was a good way for Luke to spend an evening. One evening Davey runs up to grandma’s porch to get Luke to come down to his house. Luke, you gotta come see this, Davey says, while trying to catch his breath. Luke and Davey take off running to Davy’s house. The yard is full of Davey’s relatives standing around a sight which Luke has never seen since. There just under a clump of trees is a wheel chair occupied by Davey’s uncle. His uncle is around forty years old. Both arms and legs are in four separate casts. The arm casts are attached to another cast around his chest by rigid steel support rods. He is grinning from ear to ear with no front teeth. Luke’s first thought is Who’s wiping this guy’s ass? Davey explains, He fell over forty feet while working on a high-rise construction in Baltimore City. He broke both his arms and legs and the impact knocked out a lot of his teeth. Luke was in full wonderment. He went home and told his parents. Luke’s dad said, He’s lucky to be alive. Luke replied, Yeah, but Davey says. He ain’t quite right in the head, since his fall."

Weekends were the most fun for Luke. Every month, Luke’s uncle Frank would have a different antique car in the driveway. Uncle Frank was a member of an exclusive car club, which provided a different antique car each month to its subscribers. Uncle Frank, Luke’s dad’s brother, would take Luke for a ride in the antique car almost every weekend. Luke loved to ride in the rumble seat if the car had one. A rumble seat faces backwards and is located in the rear of the car, so you can see where you’ve been. Other drivers on the road and their passengers would wave to Luke as his uncle flew down the road. Neighbors would stop by to see the latest leased antique car. Some would have stories about how they had the same model when they were younger. Some of these people looked so old, to Luke, that he was shocked that cars had even been invented yet when they were younger. Saturdays at his grandma’s would usually present a steamed crabs or oyster feast or maybe both depending on whether the month had an ‘R’ in it. The great feasts were when Luke’s Pops was still alive. The usual gang was Luke’s dad, mom, Pops, grandma, Uncle Frank, Mr. Rudy and the next-door neighbors. They were Luke’s cousin’s Pop Pop and Grandmaw. Luke’s cousin’s Pop Pop always had a cigar (better known as a stogy) hanging out of his mouth. Sometimes lit but most often not. In the summer, live crabs were purchased by the bushels and augmented by what Luke had caught from his grandma’s pier. Fresh corn, steamed spuds with Old Bay sprinkled on top and plenty of bottled beer was also served. Luke’s Dad steamed the crabs on the back porch stove top. First, he’d grab the crabs by the backfin, stab them in the heart with an ice pick and stager stack them in the bottom of the pot. Beer and Old Bay spice were added to the crabs. Luke’s dad always stabbed the crabs. Said it was more humane. In the fall, Luke and the family would have bushels of oysters usually with hush puppies, oyster crackers, hamburgers and hotdogs, both on buns. Luke’s job was to serve everyone beer. There was a large galvanized bucket with iced down beer bottles in the shade. Luke was also the cleanup guy. He’d dump the empty oyster shells on the driveway, then spread the shells with a garden rake. The bed of oyster shells worked better than stone on dirt driveways. Back then no one could afford asphalt.

Luke thought that the best thing going in the winter was when Stoney Creek would freeze over. Luke and his friends walked onto the ice via the boat launch because the water didn’t freeze as well when it slapped against the bulkheads. At around dusk someone would start a fire in the center of the ice. Of course, this was dependent on how thick the ice was. Usually someone ice fishing made the call. Adults would be sitting on logs around the fire drinking various types of alcoholic beverages while Luke and the other kids played on the ice. Kids and parents would sometimes ice skate on the thickest part of the ice. Luke’s parents never really got involved with any ice activities. Before heading for the frozen creek, Luke would stop by Mr. Rudy’s house to see if he wanted to go with Luke. But he’d usually find him painting an ice scene on his back porch with his oils on a 5x7 hard canvas. During the day you’d see a few people ice fishing for perch. At some shallow areas along the shore, you could see fish swimming under the ice. Sometimes, The Crazies, as Luke’s parents used to call them, would try and drive their Volkswagen Beetles around the ice. But inevitably the car would start to sink near the edge of the boat ramp and a wrecker would be called to the site to pull the vehicle out. The guy’s girlfriend or young wife would always verbally go off on the driver. She’d launch a barrage of adjectives and curse words. Then she’d go stomping off back to their house. However, during a multi-day cold snap, there would be some daredevil success. Cars would successfully enter the ice and perform some doughnuts then go full speed off the ice onto the boat launch before the cops showed up. Luke and his friends would cheer the drivers on and sometimes run after the car as it left the ice. Very few ice skaters ever went through the ice. If they did, it was usually a sign for everyone else to stay off the ice. If a novice did fall in the water it usually happened near the shore. The water was never deep enough to drown a person. When this did happen Luke and the other kids would be relentlessly laughing and making fun of the person who always went frantically running out of the icy water to head straight home.

Trees

Tree climbing for Luke was what he did when his friends weren’t around. Luke would climb high up a tree until he felt the branches were no longer strong enough to hold his weight. It’s just what kids did. Luke was an expert at hanging around in his grandma’s giant oak tree. Once in a while Luke would accidentally end up eavesdropping on adult conversations as they sat under the tree. One hot sunny afternoon Luke’s grandma had a distant cousin, along with her daughter, drop by for a visit. They were very proper ladies, dressed like they were going to church. They had perfect posture and manners. When Grandma brought out iced tea and cookies, you’d have thought she was serving the Queen of England. They sat on the metal lawn chairs directly under the tree Luke was in. Now, Luke didn’t mean for this to happen but when a feller ain’t payin’ attention, events happen which he just can’t control. When they showed up, Luke was just sitting on a branch staring out at Stoney Creek. He didn’t hear anyone approaching because of the leaves rustling from the warm breeze coming off of the creek. The fancy lady’s daughter appeared to Luke to be in her late teens. She sported a stylish beehive hairdo and was wearing a sun dress. The hairdo certainly lived up to its name. The girl’s hair was way up in a swirl. Luke thought to himself That thing’s bigger than a beehive you’d see in Africa . Luke stayed quiet and stared down at the three of them. They had no idea that Luke was up there until something made Luke laugh so hard that he almost fell out of the tree. Seems Luke had witnessed a bird poop dead center into this girl’s beehive. She didn’t even feel it land. Well, Grandma whipped her head directly up at Luke. She was extremely mad and embarrassed. She called to Luke, Get down from that branch right NOW! She walloped Luke right on his butt, then she made him apologize and then banished him to the house. With tears rolling down his cheeks he stomped up the concrete steps through the screen door and onto the back porch. Luke sat in a chair near the oyster shucking sink. He put his feet up on a small table and with his hands clenched behind his head decided that this corporal style punishment was just too unfair. So, Luke decided to keep his mouth shut about the bird poop in the girl’s hair. In fact, he would take this knowledge to the grave. From this day forward Luke would refer to this visitor, especially to his friends, as poopy head.

A few weeks after the poopy head incident, two idiot brothers decided to race to the top of two individual 40’ ratty ass-looking conifer evergreen trees. Luke was playing catch with himself by throwing the ball up in the air and catching it with his glove. He was on his grandma’s larger side yard when Luke overheard a tree climbing challenge between the two brothers. A few minutes later, with the sound from an actual pistol being shot into the air, by their dad, the race was on. The two teens were now squirreling up the tree. Luke knew that this type of tree was not the best for climbing. He knew that one bad move to the wrong branch could cause a body some harm. The brothers were climbing neck and neck until about three-quarters of the way up, Luke heard a loud snap. One kid was now sliding down the trunk of the tree with his arms flailing trying to catch a branch so he wouldn’t directly hit the ground. He did manage to slow himself by gleaming the branches. When he finally reached the ground, he was screaming. Luke thought to himself I’ve got to check this out. Even though Luke was forbidden from going on their property by his grandma, he went running over with some of the other neighbors. Luke showed up to the scene, catching his breath, and looked on to see that the kid’s chest and legs were covered in blood and with what appeared to be some rib bone showing. The kid’s mom came flying out of the house, took one look at the scene and ran back inside the house. She returned with a pile of towels. The idiot dad, who allowed this scene to occur, went in the house and called the fire department. A few minutes later Luke heard the ambulance. The ambulance driver and the other medic checked the kid’s breathing, blood pressure and pulse. They peer under the towels, then load him onto the stretcher and into the ambulance. The mom climbs in the back. When the dad tries to do the same, the mom says in a firm voice Get out. This is your fault. As usual. Luke noticed, while watching the kid being tended to, that both brothers were wearing their Chuck’s sneakers, the slipperiest shoes possible for climbing, clam digger pants with a rope for a belt and no shirts. It would be several weeks before the kid returned home from the hospital. He didn’t waste any time showing all the kids his stitches. A few weeks later, this same mentally challenged family set their pier on fire while setting off fireworks on the Fourth of July.

Click-Clack

In the spring of 1961, Luke’s Dad decides to have an aluminum awning installed at the front entrance of their house. Like most home owners of the day, he does not call up multiple businesses for competitive quotes. He just makes one phone call. Hey, this is Herb Armstrong. He states, I’ll take a 10’ wide by 8’ deep. Go with the red and white roof and the decorative columns. I’ll get you a check the day you show up. Luke’s Dad hangs up and says to Luke’s mom, who wasn’t in the room during the call, Hey hon, what do you think about getting an awning over the front door? Luke’s mom replies, in her typical gentle way, I don’t give a shit what you do with this house. No matter what I say, you’ll do it anyway.

Two days later on a sunny fall day with not a cloud in the sky, a utility truck pulls up in front of Luke’s house with awning parts in the back. Luke thinks to himself Wow, that was fast. His Dad comes out of the house and shakes the installer’s hand. He is still in his truck. They chat for a while. Then dad says as he’s walking away from the truck, Good luck today. I’ll see ya when I get back from work. I’ll have a check for ya then. The guy responds Thanks a lot, Herb. Appreciate the business. Luke’s Dad taps on top of the truck bed then gets in his car to leave for work with Luke’s mom in the passenger seat. As usual she looks miserable. Because the family only has one car, she has to get dropped off at work.

Luke stays on the front steps. On both sides of Luke are concrete flower pots with a relief flower pattern on all four sides. The installer gets out of the truck, but he’s waddling. He’s not fat but a lot of older people waddle from bad knees. As Luke watches this guy unload his tools and awning product, the man is slow and methodical, constantly having to steady himself on the truck with one hand. He starts bring his tools to the steps where Luke is sitting and says,

Good morning, Sarge.

Good morning mister. How’d ya know my nickname?

I heard your dad say your name when he talked about you.

How do you know my dad?

From the VFW.

Oh Luke says. I’ve been there.

Luke stands up and walks to the front gate. I gotta check in with my grandma. But I’ll be back.

See ya later, Sarge.

Luke goes off running across the street and down the oyster shell driveway and makes a left onto the porch. Luke has breakfast with grandma. She’s prepared Maypo oats cereal, eggs, sausage links and toast. After the meal, Luke helps clear the table which is a mandatory labor after every meal at Grandma’s. Luke now heads through the dining room and living room towards the front door. As he has one foot out the door, he hears grandma say,

Where ya going so early puddin’?

I’m gonna go help the guy at my house put up the new awning.

How about you just stay out of his way and watch.

Grandma, ya know I ain’t good at watchin’. I just gotta help.

With that, Luke finally gets back to the job site. By the time Luke returns, the installer has the awning framing complete. He is now setting up the ladder to start the roof. As he’s climbing the ladder, he is raising his legs with his hands. Left-hand pulls up his left leg. Right-hand pulls up his right leg. This motion creates a click sound as he lifts his legs and a clack as his leg lowers and puts weight on it. This process continues up the ladder, down the ladder. As Luke has a habit of saying what’s on his mind, he asks. Hey mister, what’s going on with your legs? The installer stops what he’s doing and says, You’re a straight shooter aye? I like that in a fella’. He then raises his pants legs revealing plastic legs with metal pinned joints for maneuverability. Luke’s eyes practically pop out of his head. This sight completely stuns Luke and causes him to blurt out. Holy shit! To which the installer replies. Yeah, that’s what I said when the German shell hit our fox hole.

Chores

As a child, Luke has been doing chores ever since he could remember. Sometimes the chores became a teaching aid to learn how to perform certain home maintenance and improvements. That’s just what the previous generation did for the next. Dad and Pops showed Luke all kinds of things having to do with home repairs and chores. Luke learned how to install a new asphalt roof on his grandma’s and pop’s house. His job was to place the individual shingles so his Dad and Pops could nail them more quickly. The three of them developed a rhythm which made the job go faster, and with no gutter system to fool with, the job was completed in a day.

On Saturday afternoon, on a cool rainy day, Dad showed Luke how to properly use a saw in Grandma’s garage. Ok, Sarge, lay the board on a flat surface. Mark the board using this adjustable square and this flat carpenter pencil. The pencil is flat so it doesn’t roll around. Luke follows orders intently with his mouth agape. Dad continues, Then grip the board with your left hand. Hold the saw handle with your right hand. Now, place the back teeth of the saw on the pencil mark and pull the saw back, towards you. Luke does this a few times but then the saw jumps up and hits Luke’s hand drawing blood. But Luke is so focused on the task that he doesn’t even feel the cut. Dad continues Do this a few times. This digs a notch in the board to start the cut. Now you can start to drag the saw back and forth. Go back and forth with the saw using all of its teeth, long strokes. Don’t put too much pressure on the saw as you cut. Let the saw do the work. This short lesson prompts Luke to wonder what other tools can he learn. Thus, beginning a lifelong love of working with his hands and the tools it takes to do the job.

Luke did chores for his parents, Grandma and Granny in the city. It’s important to know that in the 1960s, certain materials used on job sites and around houses were not yet declared harmful to humans or pets. Lawn fertilizer would make pets sick, mostly if they were kept outside. You couldn’t leave anti-freeze out in an open container because the stuff would kill dogs if they drank it. Luke’s dad said it tasted sweet to dogs. Asbestos which Luke’s grandfather worked around, at the shipyard, would later kill thousands from lung diseases. If Luke happened to be in his grandma’s house when his pops came home from work, Luke would always give him a big hug. Twice Luke saw his Pops come through the door with bandages wrapped around his eyes. He’d caught sight of a spark when his welding helmet was in the up position and came home with temporary blindness. Pops used to chase Luke around the house, pretending that he was Boris Karloff as The Mummy.

The cellar at the Armstrong house was accessed from the outside. Luke would go down the concrete steps and through the lead painted wood door, which was barely hanging on by its rusty hinges. The light bulb on the ceiling was always covered in fertilizer dust. The cellar contained fertilizer and pesticides. Most of the fertilizer and pesticides were samples which Luke’s Dad brought home from work. The floor was part concrete and part dirt. Cellar cleanup, which Luke performed every other Saturday (except the winter months) was the worst chore ever. The cellar was only about 8’x14’. The cellar smell was overwhelming. A mixture of oil, grass, acid and dampness. The oil tank