Life with Larry

By Sue Schuerr

All little boys growing up in the 50’s were influenced by the TV Cowboy characters Roy Rogers, Hop-a-long Cassidy and John Wayne.  The good guys wore white hats and the bad guys wore black.  Of course, both were always fighting the Indians.  Larry was no exception. He and his two toe-headed stair-step brothers, Bill and Ken, were glued to the TV screen soaking up the many lessons to be learned about how to be a real cowboy.   They were thrilled to have electricity and a TV in their small primitive summer cottage supported on posts. It was located in Lily Moor just outside of McHenry, a better place than the city for three boys to grow up.

In 1952, Larry’s dad bought the summer cottage from his half-brother who used it as a flop house, a place to get inebriated on the weekends.  The goal was to convert the summer cottage into a year round home. Insulation, heat and indoor plumbing were non existent, and they had to take a bucket to the hand pump on the front porch to pour the water down the indoor outhouse to flush it.  The wood burning stove sizzled with wood scraps Larry’s dad brought home from his carpentry jobs.  

“We’d wake up in the morning with snow blowing through the eaves onto the floor,” Larry recalls. “With room for only one bed, we nestled close to one another for warmth.   Money was a scarcity so the transformation took years as our family grew.  For Christmas each of us received two presents----a piece of clothing and one toy. The VFW came to the door with a turkey and a box of food.  It was the first time I saw my dad cry.”

Larry’s dad, a man whose arms resembled Popeye, dug a well and installed a pump by the sink in the kitchen similar to what we had seen on the TV series, Lassie.  After indoor heating was installed, the next ongoing project was to dig out a basement under the house.  First, walls with windows were installed.  Then when Larry and his brothers got home from school, their job was to dig out the basement and throw the dirt out of the window.  This was a Herculean us task for three young boys.   

 But at least it was their place, and the TV provided a mental escape to help them endure the transition.  There were trees to climb, sticks to turn into guns and plenty of new places to explore.

 Ken, the youngest of the three, was often the target for taunting.  When it was Ken’s turn to swing from the rope on the tree, Larry, being the chief, would tell him when to jump.  Of course, the oldest brother was always right.

Ken would yell, “When should I jump?” 

“Not now, screamed Bill and Larry

With their early understanding of physics, they would wait until the distance between Ken and the ground was greatest and then they would yell, “Now”. 

As would be expected, they all got wounded regularly just like the real Cowboys and Indians on TV and Dad, the medicine man, was an expert at making butterfly bandages.  Going to the hospital was out of the question.

Another time, they ventured into a dairy farm behind them and visited the cows. Bill and Larry talked Ken into grabbing the tail of a Holstein cow to see what would happen, like an experimental science class.  When the thrill of seeing their brother fly on the end of a cow’s tail passed, they yelled.     

 “Leave go.”

 But the shock of being dragged by a moving cow, made Ken grab on harder.

“Leave go,” yelled Bill and Larry.   

 But, Ken continued to grab on even harder as he bounced off stones, sticker bushes and manure patties. 

Rainy days were a recipe for disaster for the growing family who lived in the space of a double garage.  Mom and Dad were playing cards with friends down the road and the three boys got to rough housing.  It wasn’t long before they put a hole in the wall. 

“Now, what shall we do?”

“We’re dead meat,” cried Bill

Larry came up with an excellent solution.  They would move the refrigerator to cover the hole-------their parents would never notice.   With a great deal of pushing and shoving, the hole vanished behind the mayonnaise, mustard and sour cream.

When Mom and Dad came home, they asked who moved the refrigerator. 

“Not me,” said Larry

“Not me,” said Ken,

“Not me,” said Bill

That left their little sister, Mary, gurgling in the corner.

Digging out the basement was an on going project.  By then real plumbing was installed and Shirley, their mom, decided to have a Tupperware party.

As usual, the boys came home from school and worked in the basement shoveling the dirt out the window.  The boring, laborious work cried for adventure.  Larry remembered seeing a special episode of Roy Rogers where--------

The memory was crystal clear in Larry’s mind and he diverted his attention from throwing dirt out the window to digging a large hole.  He coaxed Bill, the cowboy, into climbing into it. Bill obediently jumped in. The Indians, Ken and Larry, buried their victim up to his neck.  All they needed were cowboy hats and feathers-----until Bill’s piercing cry.

“Help!  Get me out of here.”

The Tupperware party was in full swing upstairs as the ladies inhaled their Lucky Strike cigarettes, munched on brownies, and practiced burping their new lettuce containers.

But the call persisted, “Help, Help, Get me out of here!”

Shirley politely said, “Excuse me ladies,” It looks like I’m needed below.” 

She regretted missing the latest gossip tidbits.

Stomping down the basement stairs, the first thing she saw was Bill buried up to his neck and then  Ken and Larry standing in the distance with shovels trying to be innocent bystanders.   The spell was now completely broken-----the Indians were on the run with past wallops in memory.

She grabbed a shovel and furiously began to excavate her middle son promising,” I’m going to kill you guys.” 

In the next breath she called upstairs in her sweet voice, “I’ll be with you in a minute, ladies.”

She shoveled some more while Larry and Ken flew up the stairs and out the door in ear shot of her impending promise, “I’m going to kill you kids.”

But it wasn’t long before Larry, Bill and Ken, ignoring all the household chores, escaped into the wonderful world of Roy Rogers, Dale Evans and Tonto-----with visions of future exploits dancing in their heads.