My Life Story

By Mike Schmitt

I wrote this book to share with anyone who feels like they don't have opportunities handed to them as I believe that you make your own opportunities. I pushed forward even when I felt like I didn't fit in class-wise or equipment-wise. Not measuring up just pushed me to work harder.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Page Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Jan 18, 2023
• ISBN: 9798886540888

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My Life Story

Mike Schmitt

Copyright © 2022 Mike Schmitt

All rights reserved

First Edition

PAGE PUBLISHING

Conneaut Lake, PA

First originally published by Page Publishing 2022

ISBN 979-8-88654-087-1 (pbk)

ISBN 979-8-88654-088-8 (digital)

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

Mike Schmitt

About the Author

My sincere thanks to my friends, listed below, who were instrumental in assisting in the achievement of the goals I reached in the game of hockey.

Brian Durham, Donnie Hall, Brian Alysworth, Peter Moffat, Bobby Hull, Jim Brunetti.

Also to my wife, Anita.

Thanks to my good friends who pushed me to write my story. Thank you Brian/Judy Covey.

This picture is well over thirty-five years old. It was taken at a birthday roast his brother through for him. I was standing talking to my friends Bobby and Stan when Gordie Howe started walking by. I grabbed Bobby's arm and said, Hey, there's Gordie. He said, So? I pleaded with him for a picture. I used to say, Hey, there's three Hall of Famers and me. Now there are four Hall of Famers.

My name is Mike Schmitt; man, do I have a story for you! I was born in 1949 and grew up in inner city of Chicago. We lived at 8 E. Pearson Street in the basement apartment rent free, as my father was the building janitor.

Not being born yet, my older brother Bobby was six years old, had made a Valentine at school for Mom, and couldn't wait for end of school day to give to Mom her Valentine present. On his way home, he knew that was laundry day at the neighborhood Laundromat. Being so excited, he did not know the state streetcar was approaching. He ran in front of the street car and was killed instantly. Mom doing laundry, she could not see the commotion, unaware it was her precious son Bobby. The neighbors knew Mom. They shielded Mom the best they could; it wasn't long there after she was notified it was her son. Bobby was her firstborn. She also had two other boys at this time. I was born two years later, and my sister was born seven years after me.

We boys were required to help with building maintenance chores while Dad slept off his nights drinking. Chores included removing trash from each floor in a large can strapped to our backs; also loading coal into wheelbarrows to load these into what we called the Hopper which then fed the furnace system to heat the entire building. It consisted of six apartments per floor and was a four-story building, and as I said, the basement which was our living quarters.

When I said we helped, basically it was our responsibility as my father was basically an alcoholic and was not fit to help most of the time, and this did keep a roof over our heads, such as it was. When it rained, it came in around our window; on heavy rains, it flooded the apartment. Our bathroom floor was concrete; showers were always cold and uncomfortable.

I was lucky as I was able to attend Holy Name Cathedral Grammar School in first through eighth grades—1955