stories

Charles Christopher Cunico

My early childhood thoughts are mingled with my parents; Christopher Cunico and Louella Barth and my grandparents; Jacob Barth and Annie Walker. So that is how this story is being written by Chuck Cunico.

We listened to Uncle Bob and his “Topsy Turvy Time” on the radio, which by the way was on at 4 p.m. Then it was into our p.j.’s and upstairs to our bedroom. The shades would be pulled down and the door locked. Dad always came home after Bill and I were in bed. Puck Trager, the police chief, rode a motorcycle with a side car attached. He would often give Dad a ride home. Otherwise, Dad walked home from work. We never saw Dad very often, usually only on Saturdays and Sundays.

Many nights I would wake up and speak to Bill, only to have my voice echo. I would scream and Dad would come in to see what the trouble was. I would tell him there was somebody in the room, or someone was under the bed. Dad would try to tell me there wasn’t anybody in the room but do you know I never believed him.

I also had this frightening experience because of the way Mom and Aunt Mary acted one day when the fire siren went off in town. That eerie fire siren went off and Mom ran out of the house with Bill and me right on her heels and Aunt Mary came out of her house. We met in the middle of the street. I remember watching them looking up and down the street and saying, “It sure didn’t come past here.” Aunt Mary said, “Lou, shall we go look for it?” From that kind of talk I thought whatever they were looking for must fly up and down the street. So we packed into Aunt Mary’s Buick. They drove around until we wound up on East Bluff Street where Codo’s lived. A lot of firemen were tearing the burning tar paper off the side of a garage. Some of the firemen were stomping on the paper. Mom and Aunt Mary said, “They caught it in time but it is about dead.” I’ll tell you it was all I could do to watch them kill that black thing. I was scared.

On occasion we were left home alone and Uncle Virgil or Aunt Mary was across the street if we needed them. One day I found a car jack in the kitchen and I jacked up the gas stove. The only thing was I didn’t know how to let it down. So, I got Uncle Virgil to come and help me because I knew I was in trouble if Mom saw the gas stove with one leg off the floor. He let it down and told Dad that one more notch on that jack and I would have snapped the gas line and blown the house up.

One time Mom and Dad were going to be gone for a few minutes. The stove was going in the living room and I remember the belly of the stove got cherry red, creeping up to where the pipe ran across under the ceiling into the wall. The pipe was so hot the wall paper on the ceiling started to come loose and flap from the heat wave. Bill and I didn’t know what to do. It seemed like Mom and Dad were gone a long time. Either Bill or I decided we had to put the fire out or the house was going to burn down. So we were going to throw water on the stove. Dad and Mom came in before we did that and closed the damper. I remember watching the redness of the pipe leave. I told Dad what we were going to do and he told me, never to do that, as it would have caused an explosion.

Gramma drove a 1911 or 1912 black Chevrolet touring sedan. The car had no side windows. I remember only one long trip in this car. Grampa, Gramma, Mom, Dad, Bill and I went to Nappanee, Indiana in it. On the way back, someplace around Joliet the car had stopped and it was raining hard, I had been asleep. Dad and Grandpa were out buttoning up the isinglass windows. Gramma was out in the road with a flashlight flagging down cars to get help. Whether they had a flat tire or engine trouble, I don’t know.

This car was sitting in the yard one day. Since I was built low to the ground, and cars at that time were quite high off the ground, I could see the battery hanging down on the ground. I told Gramma, “Your battery is on the ground.” She said, “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Gramma never gave me credit for knowing anything. Grampa told me she went over to B.P.E. Garage and she made Vic Ellena or Jack Pomatto let all the air out of the tires and put new air in them because the pump had a sign that said “Fresh Air” on it. She believed the air in the tires was old.

I was with her one day and she said we were going to the post office to get a book of stamps. She was counting out pennies on the kitchen table, moving them with her fingers as she counted. She counted to twenty – however, I counted nineteen. She put one penny aside. I said, “Gramma you counted wrong.” She said she didn’t make a mistake. So down to the post office she went. She asked the postmaster for a book of stamps. The postmaster said, “Mrs. Barth, you are a penny short.” Hearing this I said, “Gramma, you left the other penny on the table.” Gramma did not like this as I was always admonished that little boys should be seen and not heard. She was nice to be with but very stern and strict with me. I learned fast to not make a peep unless spoken to.

I remember the coffee grinder which hung on the wall and how nice the smell of the coffee beans was when they were being ground. I also remember the old time remedies used on me when I was sick which Mom always said that Gramma used.

I remember Mom washing clothes in the kitchen, at our house, and Gramma coming over giving Bill and me windup race cars which she said Santa Claus had left at her house.

I remember the last time I saw Gramma – or so it seems. We, Mom, Dad, Bill and I went over to Gramma’s house. Gramma was in the kitchen – whether I was in her way I don’t know but she said something to me. I told her she was full of prunes. Shortly afterwards Gramma died and I always felt for a long time after that if I hadn’t said that she would still be alive.

It was a sad day for me, I will never forget when Mom came back home and said Gramma had gone to Heaven. Bill’s remarks were, “Goody, now we get the car.” Grampa took me into the parlor to see Gamma in her coffin. He lifted me up to kiss Gramma goodbye. To this day I can see Gamma laying there and I still miss her. I honestly believe she took me because Mom was always sick. I don’t remember her having Bill over there – maybe it was because he wasn’t very old at the time.

Grampa and Gramma had a Chick Sale – two holer in their back yard. I remember a bathtub on the back porch that had just been delivered. Mom and Dad didn’t have one then. This must have been when he installed a bathtub, toilet and Holland furnace. I was only seven or eight and Grampa had me on the roof with him and he was putting down shingles on the bathroom addition. Gramma came to the ladder and gave Grampa a bacon and tomato sandwich. She must not have known I was there because she only had one sandwich. But Grampa shared with me after Gramma went down the ladder.

Easter time Grampa would come over and tell Bill and me the Easter Bunny had been to our house. He would take us out in the back and also in the front of the house and show us the rabbit tracks (he made) in the dirt. He also told us the bunny buried money in the dirt. He helped to uncover the dimes he had planted along side of the rabbit tracks.

Grampa also helped Dad remodel the front room. He built an arch way and remodeled the stairs. Apparently this was when they took out the heatalator stove in the front room and installed the Holland furnace, because I remember the hole for a register they cut up stairs over the bathroom, they were working below. I almost fell thru that hole upstairs as I was looking down thru it to see what they were doing.

On the Fourth of July, Grampa and Dad would shoot firecrackers and skyrockets off in the big lot after dark. Bill and I got to watch out of Mom and Dad’s bedroom window because we were ready for bed.

After Gramma died, Grampa had me stay to his house at various times. I got to crawl into that big feather bed he had. I remember how nice it was to sink into it. It wasn’t too long after Gramma died that we moved into the house with Grampa.

Bill and I were over to his house all the time when he got home from work. Grampa would be shaving while I cranked the Victrola and played the Jillian record he had. We sometimes got out the big books he had on horses and looked at the pictures. We knew he would take us to the picture show with him. This show house was along the Rock Island Railroad tracks. After the show we would drop into Orsi’s Candy Store. Bill and I would look at all the candy while Grampa called Dad to come and get us. He never ever bought us any candy. I’m sure he could see our tongues hanging out.

I remember when Mom apparently went to Youngstown, Ohio. Dad said we could stay up as long as we wanted. We would go to the bedroom window and look for Mom. Dad told us Mom was taking care of a sick lady. Dad cooked our meals while she was gone. One meal I remember most; Dad took a frying pan, put in pork and beans, cut up weenies, threw in some eggs and mixed it all together. It didn’t taste too good. Sometimes Dad would come home with a sack. He would have Bill and me reach into the bottom of the sack where he would have suckers. The last sack, I remember the bottom felt squishy. Instead of candy it was balloons. Mom finally came home.

Bill, Mom and I went on the train to Brookings, South Dakota. It was a long trip. Uncle Tom Maher drove us to the farm in a Model T. We played in the tall corn while there. Bill got lost in it and when we found him he had heat exhaustion. Bill also chased a chicken and hit it with a board killing it. I told Mom I didn’t know how the chicken got killed so I got a spanking. We returned home after a nice visit.

Whenever Bill and I made too much noise Mom would get nervous and faint. Mom showed me how to mix Ginger, Sugar and water together to put it to her mouth when she was lying on the floor. Whatever this did, it seemed to help. Mom would get up on her feet. Every time Mom fainted I would get scared.

When we had loose teeth Dad would pull them out with a small pair of pliers that we called his radio pliers as they were in a drawer of a table on which his radio set. One day I had a loose tooth, Mom apparently decided not to wait for Dad. So she tied a string around the tooth and tied the other end to the door knob. This door was between the kitchen and the stairs leading upstairs. She would tell me to open my mouth – then slam the door. She tried this several times, and it hurt. My tooth stayed in until Dad got home.

I remember I used to have real bad sore throats, all the time in the winter time. When I got ready for bed Dad would put a rag on top of the heatalator and on that he would place a strip of bacon. After the bacon was heated he would put it around my neck. It felt real good when warm but clammy the next morning. Mom would rub mustardrole on my chest, roll up a newspaper and blow sulfur on the tonsils, and stuff Vapor Rub up my nose. We had real thick quilts on our beds to keep us warm.

For breakfast Mom would cut up the homemade raisin bread in squares over which she put sugar and milk. Sometimes, we got cornflakes and most of the time rolled oats. I remember during the winter, how the cream in the milk delivered on the front porch would rise out of the top of the milk bottle. This would belong to Dad; he would cut it off into his bowl of coffee.

I remember a Christmas when Bill got a big yellow street car that clanged when pushed and I got a big red hook and ladder fire truck. Also we each got a garage made out of lumber with doors that opened. We used to like the smell of the wood. Bill and I played on the linoleum in the living room with these toys. Mom and Dad were listening to the radio and Mom started getting nervous and upset because of the racket Bill and I were making. These two toys were taken away from us and placed above the medicine cabinet in the kitchen – never did we get to play with them again. Dad told me later, when he came out to Utah to fish, and I had mentioned it to him it was the first Christmas I remembered. One Christmas he was walking to town, Christmas Eve, to get some medicine for Mom, from Trowbridges Drug Store. On the way he found a ten dollar bill. So he walked back home and talked with Mom whether they should but medicine and groceries or buy Bill and me some toys. They decided to buy us a toy apiece. This was when Mom was pregnant.

I remember Mom asking me if I would like another baby brother and I said yes. Next morning Mom was upstairs, still in bed, with my new baby brother, Tom. He was fat and I had to lift him and also change his diapers. I don’t remember when the other kids were born.

I remember the only time I saw Dad’s Father. I was sitting on the curb in front of the house. A man came out of the house, walked toward me. He gave me a ten dollar bill and said to give it to Mom. He appeared to me as tall, slender and wearing a hat. He left me, walked across the street and headed east. I never saw him again. I later found out he was dying of cancer. He had tried to give the money to Mom but she refused, so he had given it to me to give to her.

I remember when we moved in with Grampa one of Bill and my chores was to shine the silverware. We also shined Gramma’s silver percolator. I asked Mom why we didn’t use it instead of putting it back in the closet. Mom told me when it was percolating it sounded like Gramma gasping while she was dying. We never used it.

Grampa bought Mom and Dad a big 1925 Brown Studebaker. Dad once said is was used by a funeral parlor. It had a thermostat on the radiator cap and flower vases on the door posts inside the car.

Grampa next bought a 1929 Green Chevrolet. It looked like a cracker box. Dad had nothing but trouble with the valve stems breaking and the timing chain breaking.

Grampa’s next car he bought for Mom and Dad was a beautiful Black 1941 Dodge. Mom told me once (whether in jest or not) Grampa was part Jew – because he always dickered before he bought. Before she took Grampa over to B.P.E. Garage to see this car, she had told Jack Pomatto to be sure to increase the price he wanted as Grampa was sure to Jew him down. I know Grampa was this way as I remember the day he took Bill and me to the Ritz show house and the sign in the ticket window said, “All seats 10¢” and said he was buying all seats.

When I was in the fifth grade, Dad finally got his World War I Veterans bonus from the government. The Veterans had marched on Washington D.C. in 1929 for a bonus. Dad bought Bill and I each a cornet. Bill always said he wanted a clarinet but I convinced Dad he meant Cornet. Gramps paid for all my cornet lessons - $1.50 from the fifth grade thru high school. He came to all the concerts. He bought me a more expensive trumpet ($75) when I was suddenly moved from fifth chair to lead trumpet.

Grampa took Bill and me to Chicago. I believe I was nine and Bill was seven. We went by Interurban all the way to Chicago. The little depot stop was on Lincoln Street near the Illinois-Michigan Canal, just before DePhillipe Field; a new high school was built there. On the way over Grampa told me to lie about Bill’s age, so that Bill could ride free. After we finally arrived in Chicago, we started to board a city street car. Grampa said, “Charley, bend over and pick up that pocket book real fast and put it in your pocket.” After we got seated on the street car Grampa said, “Shall we see if there is anything in the pocket book?” He opened it and there was $40 and we were going to spend every nickel of it. Grampa knew where he was going in Chicago. I found out later he had lived there. We first went to Riverside Amusement Park where they had Roller Coaster rides, a house of mirrors and a Ferris wheel. There were some rides Bill was too young for. Grampa asked me if I wanted to go on them, and if I did we would have to lie about Bill’s age so he could go. No one said Boo and I always felt relieved that I didn’t have to lie. We rode on every ride they had. Then Grampa asked me if I wanted to go to the Lincoln Zoo which was real nice. So we boarded a Double Decker bus; we hadn’t gone very far when the bus had to stop at a four-way intersection because of a traffic jam. Since we weren’t moving, Grampa took us off the bus and we walked a block past the traffic jam and got on a trolley car. I thought then my Grampa was really smart. We went to the Lincoln Park Zoo and then to Uncle Bill’s winter home in Chicago. Uncle Bill had a summer home in Wauconda, Illinois. Then Grampa took us to the restaurant and told us we could eat all we wanted. But we would have to clean up our plates. That was the law of the land. I can see Bill’s plate and the tall glass of milk he got. He just couldn’t clean up his plate so Grampa finally gave up. We rode the trolley back to Marseilles. It seemed like a long trip because it was dark and we couldn’t see outside. Bill and I were always called the Barth Boys as we went everywhere with Grampa Barth.

Mom took Grampa and Dad to work one morning and Bill, Tom and I were in our p.j.’s waiting for Mom to come home. She drove in the yard, rushed into the house, and called the fire department and said the house was on fire. She hustled us out of the house and I looked on the roof and sure enough smoke was boiling out of the roof. The fire department finally put it out. I remember them chopping holes in the roof. This must have been when Grampa decided to build the window enclosed porch on the front and side of the house and extensions on our bedrooms upstairs and the living room downstairs.

During my senior year of High School, Grampa tried to get National Biscuit Company to let me start learning his job as a Die Maker. Grampa was getting ready to retire and he wanted me to take over his trade under the Father and Son rule, where the father passed his trade down to his son. They would have done it if I had been out of school.

Most of the before was about my Grandparents; now some about my parents. Sometimes we were bad and sent to bed without our supper. Dad would come upstairs with some supper and say “Don’t tell Mom.” It always seemed to me he was doing this behind Mom’s back – as if she didn’t know.

We really didn’t see Dad too much except maybe on Sundays. Dad used to come home in the lumber truck about 10 a.m. for the coffee ritual. Sometimes Mom would send me out to Mr. Trager’s Bakery wagon to get Dad some rolls or a cream pie. The bottom of Dad’s coffee bowl having so much sugar in it all I had to do was pour coffee, I never had to add sugar. Dad would take me in the lumber truck when he had deliveries in the east end of town. It was a hard tire, chain driven truck. The horn was run off the trucks manifold. Instead of a button there was a wire on the dash board. Dad would let me pull the wire, honking the horn. On one trip, we were on a rough road delivering some lumber to Seaborn’s home. Just before we stopped at Seaborn’s, Dad hit a chuckhole and the window on Dad’s side shattered cutting his neck making it bleed.

Carrie Buchannan was a close friend of Mom’s. Mom would go over to Carrie’s house. Carrie would play hymns for her. When Carrie and John lived over the police station on Lincoln Street, Mom would go there and have Carrie play and visit.

Mom would volunteer to drive in funerals of friends or acquaintances as a flower car. She also drove older people to the election polls during election time, so they could cast their vote.

On Sundays we sometimes drove out in the country to Ottawa, Seneca or someplace. One Sunday we went to U.S. Route 6 to Ottawa, across from the El Reno Club, there was a field with a Bi-Plane in it. The sign said, “Rides 1¢ a pound.” Dad would not even go near the plane and stayed near the car. Mom knew the pilot. He was Shorty something or other from Marseilles. He gave us a good ride. The plane had two open cockpits. Mom said Shorty was so short he sat on catalogs to see out of the cockpit. After we got back down, Mom still couldn’t get Dad to go up with her.

After Dad lost his leg he would come out to Utah to fish Strawberry Reservoir. The first year Dad was coming to Utah I had written a letter to him telling him the train trip would be three days and two nights long, to get hold of the porter and have him put his insulin in the refrigerator, in the dining car. Mom told me the day he was leaving, everyone planned on taking him to the train station. He said he had to go to O’Hare Airfield. They didn’t believe him, even when he showed them his plane ticket. Dad belonged to the AAA Motor Club and he had them arrange for the ticket. When Mom called and said Dad would be flying into Salt Lake, I couldn’t believe my ears. Jean and I went to Salt Lake to pick him up. He was the first one out of the door. As he stood at the top of the ramp he raised his arms like saying EUREKA. In his hand was his fishing pole, in the other his cane. I snapped his picture when he did this but found out there was no film in the camera. I asked Dad how his trip was. He said he had sat back near the tail talking to a man when the pilot announced they were flying over the Strawberry Reservoir. That’s the only time he looked out. Dad had made his first airplane trip and decided it was the only way to go.

The second time he came out we went to Illinois and Dad drove back with us. We decided to change drivers in Iowa and we were approaching a stop sign at an intersection. A State Patrolman was parked off to the side of the road. When Dad didn’t let up on the gas to stop I hollered at Dad that there was a stop sign ahead. He sat on the brakes so hard it’s a wonder the cop didn’t pull us over. After the first gas stop I made up excuses to do the rest of the driving. Dad flew back by plane after his stay.

I had a boat and I put a lawn chair in it for Dad. Bob, LuJean and John went with us. He used to spit on the night crawlers, for good luck. We trolled for fish before I explained to him that when trout are hitting the worm they will hook themselves. So you don’t have to set the hook. But thru habit, when Dad knew a fish was on he would send his pole almost double in setting the hook. He sure was in his glory catching trout.

The third year, I wrote Dad in March and asked if he was coming out in June, for the opening of the fishing season. He wrote back, he would have to see what the future holds. Dad passed away in May – the month before fishing season. Dad and I were closer companionwise than we had ever been.

I learned a lot on these trips about his Dad, Mother and Sisters; about his travels with his Dad after his Mother died, and why he left the Catholic Religion.

After Dad passed away Mom came out on a surprise visit. It was all planned between Jean and her. I remember the last trip I helped Mom on the plane. Since she needed help she boarded the plane first before the other passengers. I’m holding Mom up and before we stepped inside of the plane she began to shake and almost collapsed. With the help of the stewardess, we got her to her seat. I kissed Mom goodbye and she was still shaking. The stewardess told me she would take good care of her. I think the stewardess thought Mom was scared of flying which was the fartherest from the truth. I believe Mom knew she would never see me again. Her shaking was her nerves going to pieces, a condition that I recalled from early childhood. That was the last time I did see my Mother alive.

By Charles Christopher Cunico

Written March 1984

William Barth Cunico

FAMILY MEMORIES BY

WILLIAM CUNICO

I have a thousand memories so I’ll list some things, about 90 percent Chuck knows.

Every Christmas I could not wait to see what Santa Claus brought Chuck and me. While we were supposed to be asleep, I would wake up and sneak down stairs and fiddle around in the dark until I found a toy for Chuck and me. Then I would sneak upstairs and wake Chuck up, and we would play until Mom and Dad woke up. Little did I know, Mom and Dad had just gone to bed and were lying awake listening to me sneaking and stumbling around over the toys.

When we had the garden in the west end of town (Ivyway Gardens), Chuck and I were given a sack of corn to plant. We were dropped off at the garden by car, told how far to put the seeds. Dad had already made the rows for us. We planted the seeds and covered the rows. We still had corn left over and didn’t want to plant any more so I took the rest up in the weeds and threw them away. When the folks came to get us, they were surprised that we had just enough for the rows. However, in the fall Dad was with us while we were digging potatoes and gathering all the vegetables to take home for the winter. Dad had to go to the bathroom so he went up into the weeds, when he came back he told Mom he had found corn growing up in the weeds. He thought it was real smart of us to have done away with the rest of the corn.

Mom came home one day and put the car side ways in a one car garage. Another day she was mad and hit a maple tree in our yard. Once again, she and dad had an argument when she took him to work, and she came down Washington Street over the speed limit with the squad car on her tail into the yard.

Dad came out and we were playing ball in the yard, and the neighbor had yelled at us for hitting their house across the street. Dad came up to bat and I was pitching. I grooved the ball and Dad hit it across the street in the upstairs window and broke it.

When I came back to Marseilles in 1948, Mother let me make an apartment upstairs. We had a fire where Jimmy was sleeping. Dad was downstairs yelling Bill, the house is on fire. Pat grabbed her fur coat and went downstairs. I got Jimmy and mother and I went into the kitchen downstairs and had coffee until the fire was out. There was another fire in the big house and our neighbor, Clubine cut a hole in the roof big enough to drive a truck through to get to the fire.

Dad chewed snuff since as far back as Chuck and I can remember. Mother never knew it until one day when I cam back from Wisconsin we were sitting around the table and I asked Dad if he wanted a chew and threw the can of Copenhagen to him. Mom said, “You’re Dad doesn’t chew”. I told her to go down in the basement and look behind his sea trunk. (Just a little note to add to this segment: Grampa came to Utah to visit us when we had a red and white Dodge Club Coupe. I always rode in the back seat when we would go places. Every time Grampa would get in the car he’d put a plug of tobacco in his mouth, soon he would roll down the window to spit and . . . zap, it would run down the side of the car and the rest came into the back seat where you know who was sitting. There was a lesson to be learned, “Sit towards the middle when Grampa was in front.” -Jean Cunico-)

We would ride to Indiana and Dad would put a cigar in his mouth and never light up. When he got out he would throw the stub away. Mother never caught on.

Dad went to the Cub Park with me and the kids; this was a short time before he died. We were watching the game and I asked Dad if he wanted a beer, and he said no, that the kids would tell your Mother. I told him they wouldn’t pay any attention, so Dad and I had a beer together. Dad said that was the first one he’d had since 1919.

When Chuck and I were overseas, Dad was working at Dupont. He would write a letter on a two-by-three note pad and write around ten to twelve double pages and send them to us.

-William Cunico-

May 1984

Thomas LaVerne Cunico

The following is a resume, to the best of knowledge, of my life from my birth, July 6th 1925, to this date April 15, 1984. The first incident I can remember was probably when I was two or three years old. I was suppose to be sleeping in a crib in the bedroom downstairs in the house at 815 Union Street, Marseilles, Illinois. I say suppose to be sleeping, because I became uncomfortable in the crib as a result of being unable to change positions due to the pile of blankets on me. I didn't dare complain or make any noise for fear that I would wake the folks up.

I could always remember Dad coughing early in the morning and then shaking the grates in the furnace to start the fire and heat the house prior to the rest of us getting up. Of course, this only happened in the winter time. The first place we would head when we got up, was to sit as close to the heat registers (sometimes on top of them) as we possibly could.

I remember my first experience with balloons. My brothers and I spent one afternoon on the back porch trying to blow them up with some meager success. So as the day ended I religiously protected my balloons with the intent to play with them the next day. But, when I tried to blow them up the next day, they were stuck together and were no good.

When I was five or six my brothers and I were playing in a leaf pile in the vicinity of our garbage pile. I had no fears, so I dove into the pile of leaves and cut my right hand severely on some foreign object. I can remember to this day that it appeared I had opened a can of tomatoes. I remember that I ran to the house and Mom ran water on my hand and then wrapped it with a towel. I remember that Jakie Walters was around and he carried me up to Dr. Clifford Strikers office on the second floor of a building downtown. It was the first time I ever was in a doctors office. I know Dad had to come there from work because I guess Mom was scared when I started to get sick and the doctor felt I should lay down for a while. But I've always remembered the sight of tomatoes on my wrist. I guess I had lost a lot of blood, either one made me sick I guess.

I remember the Saturday night baths we took. Dad had to light a gas burner along side a water heater and heat the water for baths. Dad use to give three of us little ones a bath at the same time to conserve on water and gas. Also on Saturday nights Dad use to start a pot of sauerkraut cooking. He would cook it till midnight, shut it off, and start it up first thing in the morning, brown the meat and cook it till we came home from church on Sundays for dinner. Grampa Barth was always with us kids in church. We were brought up pretty much attending most Protestant churches with Grampa.

Whenever we had a loose baby tooth to remove, we would go up the stairs of the house at 815 Union Street to Grampa's room and he pulled them with a pair of needle nose pliers. I must admit that because Charles started school two months after I was born and Bill two years later I am unable to pinpoint very many things happening with them.

Summer time we played in a sand box and on our homemade swing set. Actually none of us boys were allowed to leave our yard or to have any friends come and play with us. This may account for attitudes of us, pro and con, to our way of coping with rearing our own children. The house at 815 Union Street caught on fire when Barth was a small baby, probably late 1928 and we three, (Bob, Barth and myself) were carried to the old homestead at 795 Union Street by the firemen.

When we were sent to bed upstairs we had to be extremely quiet if we didn't want to be yelled at. We dreaded having to provoke either one of our parents into coming upstairs because it meant a spanking.

I remember hearing a car drive in the yard and peaking over the window sill to catch a glimpse of a 1929 Chevrolet. This began a trend of a new car bought every six years by Grampa; 1935 Dodge, 1941 Dodge, 1947 Dodge, Grampa died in 1948.

Backing up a little bit, Barth was sent to South Dakota to Aunt Francis's home so he could start school at the age of five because his 6th birthday was January 6th.

Bob was in Kindergarten at the Methodist Church when I was in first grade and I use to be sent down to the church to walk him home because Mother was afraid for him walking home alone. (Probably because he was like Wrong Way Corigan, the flyer.)

When I was in second grade, Bob was in first, Barth was in South Dakota, Mother asked me to talk to the Principal, Miss Sheehan, who was also the second grade teacher, to see if Barth could enter 1st grade because of his grades in South Dakota which I showed her. She agreed to allow him to start.

When I started 1st grade, I was scared when left alone with the class 0 f strangers. B ill was in fifth grade at a small school along the banks of the Illinois-Michigan Canal. He didn't like to wear knickers and wanted long pants, so he never attended enough classes to graduate. So he got his long pants and attended fifth grade again the next year.

When Bill was in the sixth grade I was taken out of third grade to display my ability to spell on a blackboard some words to humiliate a sixth grade girl student on her inability to do so. That always bothered me because my brother was in that class.

One winter brother Bill was confined to bed in extreme pain. Charles and I took off to walk along the I and M Canal. But we soon came back because of the cold and we were worried about our brother. Bill was finally taken to the hospital by Doctor Stricker in our 1935 Dodge because it was a sedan and Doc's was a Club Coupe (1935 Dodge). Doc did this over Grampa's objections to hospitals.

Clema Barra came over to discuss the situation with Charles. She said it must be appendicitis and dumb me, I said no it wasn't in his side but in his stomach. His appendix had burst as Doc was operating on him. I for one had gained a lot of respect for our family Doctor because he saved my brother. This was the second time one of my brothers was away from home for an extended period of time. Barth was in South Dakota for nine months and Bill for a short period of time and a different reason.

In 1937 Charles graduated from High School and that fall he entered Tri-State Engineering College at Angola, Indiana. Again, one of my brothers had left home. This started me thinking about the future for myself. What was to be expected of me.

All the way through school I wanted to do as good as my oldest brother. I didn't pattern myself after Bill because he didn't worry about getting much out of his schooling. When I was in eighth grade Mrs. Howland, the principal of our junior high school called me out of class and I shuddered at the thought of a reprimand because she was such a mean looking person. I couldn't figure out anything I had done wrong. Well, she told me she wanted me to know she always thought Charles was very good in math. She said Bill didn't seem to care one way or the other about school. She said she felt that I had showed exceptional ability in math, even more so than my brother Charles.

What use to bother me was Mothers method for inducing us to get good grades. I use to get a nickel my A's and Bob got ten cents for A's and nickels for B's. It seemed so unfair. I was told I got too many A's to pay me ten cents and too many B's to get the nickel.

Mother was in Alabama one year while (we were told) Aunt Mary was having a baby (named Billy). After all of the children she had it seemed strange to me that she needed help on this one. Especially when some of her kids were as old as Charles. Anyway, Dad was watching us and working too. He came home on a Saturday at noon (he worked t days on Saturdays) and made eggs and pork and beans and I felt sick and didn't want to eat. He kept at me until I tried. I told him I couldn't stand the light and had a headache and was sick to my stomach. I had the flu.

I had a sty in my left eye one time and it was swollen shut. Dad was playing ball with us and it was getting dark out. Dad pitched the ball to one of my brother and he hit it hard. It hit me in the eye with the sty and broke it. Dad took me in the house and applied hot compress soaked in Epsom Salts and drew out all of the infection. It had hurt to get hit and terrible to have the hot packs put (it, but it was a welcome relief to get rid of the sty.

The folks were getting complaints from our neighbors about us hitting the sides of their house with the balls. Dad decided to show us how to hit the ball so we wouldn't hit the house. He hit one across the street and through a window in the upper story of the house there (Mr. and Mrs. McCormick). The next night he was putting the window in. Of course, we never let him forget it.

Mother use to drive the family car in funerals. One day she was using the 1935 Dodge in one funeral in the winter. She lost control of the car on the edge of the highway and rolled the car over. So her safe driving record took a beating on that accident.

Through the years, Mother, was always suffering from a nervous condition. She would rant and rave and go into a stupor until Dad made a concoction of ginger and water and forced it down her. It was usually our fault she got that way.

When I was a junior in high school, I got a guilt complex with my study habits. I decided to put forth more effort to raise my standing in class. So I studied a lot. I did fine with daily grades and six week grades on my report card but on 1st semester exams I got an A in typing, an F in chemistry and two D's. So, I figured I should be more careful the last half of the year. Again daily and six week grades were fine but exams were my downfall again! I got an A in typing again and three D's. I had created a monster because I studied so much. When my Senior year came I refused to take any books home.

When I was in the seventh or eighth grade, I had an accident during the summer months. I jumped off a shed, which use to be on our back porch, barefooted and landed on a broken drinking glass. I cut my right foot in four places. One cut took eight stitches. I missed out on a trip to the circus that time. Later that weekend some fellows from Chicago ran off of Route 6 east o£ town and were killed. Dad and I with me hobbling on my foot walked seven blocks to see the accident. We had to walk because Mother had the car. That same day Pete Barra had been seriously crushed about the head in a cave-in at the coal mine south of Marseilles across the Illinois River.

I was a junior in high school when Pearl Harbor happened. I remember how unbelievable it was and the chill that went through my body.

We were always angels when left home alone. Once Bill came running downstairs and rushed through a door to the parlor where some o£ us were sleeping (ha! ha!) he hit the corner of a steel cot with his knee and split it open. There was no way we could hide that. It took several stitches to close the cut after the folks came home.

Another time we took our youngest brother, Barth, up on the roof while Mother took Dad back to work at noon. We couldn't get him down before she got back.

We use to do the dishes at noon before we returned to school. I washed and Bill wiped. I agitated him and I guess it got to him, because as I was leaving for high school a hand full of silverware came through the glass window of the door as I was leaving.

Mrs. Haynes across the street from us sent her husband Reuben, over one night because we kept releasing the friction latches on the front porch windows and letting them bang away in the wee hours of the night.

Charles came home from college and went into the CCC's for a few years for the lack of jobs. Bill also went into the CCC's after he got out of school. The summer after my junior year of high school I worked at a housing project in Seneca during the Shipyard years (1942) I got $1.00 when I had been hired as a 'Water Boy' and was suppose to get .75. I kept getting the $1.00 an hour because my boss just said forget it. I worked 10 hours a day, seven days a week and got $85.00 a week. Once while I was there I sat down to eat. Because of all the cookies in my bucket, my lunch was covered with ants. I just brushed them off and ate everything (probably ants too).

By this time of course, I had two brothers in the service. Bill, the last week of 1941 and Charles the first week of 1942, a week apart in enlistments. Bill went in because he had been in an automobile accident earlier in 1941 with Pat, Al Barra, and another girl. When he recovered from the accident he didn't have a job and was draft age at a time of war, so he enlisted. Charles was working in the Civil Service at Camp Grant in Rockford, Ill. at the time when Bill was being processed into the military. So he left his job and drove his 1937 Chevrolet the ninety miles from home to ask Mother if he could enlist. The doors of his car were frozen shut until he wanted out at home. So, he enlisted and went through Camp Grant a week after Bill.

I was playing hookey from school in my senior year one day in the second half of the year. I was washing down the walls of the kitchen when my typing teacher, Esther Bottenfield called and asked if I was interested in a clerical job specifically typing, at another housing project in Seneca. She said I could go in the afternoons and get credit for my classes if I wanted the job. Anything was better than school. You bet, I took the job.

I graduated in 1943 and went to work at Dupont. I took tests for Aviation Cadet and passed the mental tests but failed the physical because I was under weight. I ~""c , weighed 136 pounds and needed to weigh 150 at my height of 6'4". In the meantime Bob enlisted in the Navy rather than finish high school. He also wanted to beat me into the service. I finally was drafted and while going through the processing procedure, a spokesman asked if any of us would like to try for the cadet program, they would gladly let us try. I asked if I had passed the test would I have to take it again? He said no, but he wanted to know what I r failed in on the physical. Naturally when I said I was under weight, ' he said try again. So I did and failed again. So the enlisted man gave me a note to a Captain and a room number. I saw the Captain and he gave me another note and sent me to another side of the building for a rerun on the physical. All they checked was my weight. So he told me to step on the scale and when I started to take off my coat, etc. he said leave it .on. He asked if I had anything in my pockets, I said no.

He asked everybody if they had anything I could put in my pockets. Then he said I would need to drink water to add some pounds. He told me how many cups would make a pound, so I started drinking. I drank what would have made the difference. He said he never would have believed it, if he hadn't seen it. So I went in on Dec. 9th, 1943 at Fort Sheridan in Chicago, took basic at Jefferson Barracks Mo. Grampa Barth had accompanied me to Chicago on his way to Indiana. In Missouri I lived in what was called Pneumonia Gulch. The huts had flaps like an old fashioned Root Beer Stand. I went to Independence, Kansas to "On the line" training, a form of holding area. Next I went to College at Southern Illinois Normal University in Carbondale, Illinois. In four months we took four years of college work. A professor said if I returned after the war I would get credit for two years of college.

The government decided to close the college in May 1944. So, we were shipped to the Dennison Sherman area in Texas for "On the line" training again. Then I was shipped to Harlingen, Texas for gunnery I school. I went through that course twice waiting to go to pre-flight school at Kelly Field in San Antonio, Texas. Pre-flight school was suppose to be 10 weeks. I spent six months there, always subject to washout. Before we left pre-flight school we went through a battery of tests to set the standards for future Aviation Cadets or as they are called, mental tests. This was unfair because we had become so proficient from repeatedly taking the tests we had every thing memorized, even the films for aircraft and naval ships identifications.

I had to take exams to get on a shipping order to go to the next school. The ones with the highest grades got on the first shipping order. I made it. But since I was qualified for all three programs (pilot, bombardier and navigator) I wasn't allowed to get my first choice as a pilot. Then I took bombardier. The next thing I knew I was removed from classes for bombardiers and given a choice.

I could become a navigator, join the regular army, but not be a bombardier. So I was finally shipped to Hondo, Texas for navigators. They closed that school shortly after and I was shipped to San Marcus, Texas. Then they wanted to close that school because the war was over. So, I was discharged for the convenience of the Government on November' 1st 1945. I was mustered out at Chanute Field in Rantoul, Illinois.

I returned to work at Dupont in Seneca, after Bill, Barth and I celebrated with Pat and her friend Betty in Chicago. That was the first time I had driven a car in Chicago. I was the only one who hadn't been drinking and Bill scared me with his driving after drinking. Here I was driving a car in Chicago for the first time in my life after flying airplanes at war time. I was scared to death.

I bought the family car, a '41 Dodge, so that Dad wouldn't be able to say I couldn't use it. Then Mother sold it one day while I was at work. So I bought a '40 Chevrolet.

I went into the St. Luke's Hospital in Chicago on Michigan Avenue in July of 1946 and had spinal surgery for the first time. I wouldn't eat while there so they let me out early to come home. While there, after the surgery, I didn't come out of the anesthetic for about eight hours. During that time, Mother noticed that I was turning blue. She, according to nurses, nonchalantly walked out into the hallway and said I believe my son has swallowed his tongue. I guess because they didn't have recovery rooms I was suppose to come out of it without anyone watching me. I was lucky Mother was there. When notified she said there were all kinds of doctors, interns and nurses working on me and here I am.

I met June at a skating rink in Ottawa. I was told by a boy who knew her family that I wouldn't have a chance with her. So I went skating. Then June asked me to skate with her on a ladies choice. She told me some kids were bothering her. She wanted me to keep on skating with her the rest of the night. I did and it was the beginning of a beautiful relationship. We were married on February 19th 1949 after she had graduated from Cornel Illinois High School in 1948.

Our first home after a weekend honeymoon in a hotel in Chicago was an apartment on Ontario Street in Ottawa, Illinois. I was working at Libby Owens in Ottawa at the time. June was working at Lipton Tea in Streator, Illinois.

Of Course our marriage was moved up after I had had an automobile accident on the way to pick up June at Lipton Tea after work on a Friday. I had bandages on both hands and arms and no one could figure out where I had been hurt even though I had fairly well totaled the car. They figured it wasn't the accident that I had been hurt in. I had been hurt at Libby Owens three days in a row working with Barth. He kept coming unglued handling sheets of 8X12 glass. Every time he heard any noise he would throw the sheet towards me.

As it turned out, the car accident happened at 3:30 p.m. near the Streator Airport. I entered the Ottawa Hospital at 7:30 p.m. that night because it became evident I had suffered a concussion. I worked at Libby Owens until I fell down a steel stairway and re-injured my back. When I returned to work I had no job because my brother Barth had told them I had quit. So I had to go to work at another place, an auto parts store in Ottawa. June's father and mother asked us to move to Cornell, Illinois and work at the Grain Elevator and Feed Mill with the potential of taking over the business after they retired. We built a home next to my in-laws in Cornell.

One day my father-in-law and I had some violent words at the feed mill. He put an ad in the Streator paper for an employee for elevator and feed mill work. I told my Mother-in-law I was quitting because family relationships were more important to me than the job. I next went to work as a carpenter out of the Livingston County Union. I also worked at a gas station in Streator. David was born September 5, 1950 in Ottawa. I went to work at Caterpillar Tractor Co. in April 19th 1952. In 9 months I went into the office and advanced through the years to management. Randy was born in Ottawa, June 17th 1954. We had moved to Marseilles in August 1953 to be closer to Joliet. I bought the house at 818 Washington Street.

David graduated in 1968 and Randy in 1972. Randy as Salutatorian of his class. David went to Northern Illinois University at DeKalb, Illinois. He had a reoccurrence of rheumatic fever while at school. So he couldn't attend classes the last half of his first year. He came up with incompletes, so he spent that summer finding his professors to take exams and erase the incompletes. Of course his grades took a beating on account of that. He went to I.U.C.C. at Olgesby, Ill., a Junior College. Then he went into the Navy. He was in a month before he received a medical discharge because of his rheumatic fever. Then he returned to work at Marbon in Ottawa on Canal Road. He married Jean McCormick in Ottawa in 1974. She had two girls, Laura and Lisa. Dave adopted them. Chris was born to Jean and Dave in 1976.

David died of Malignant Melanoma, a cancer, October 18 1982. June and I were separated in April 19th 1973 and divorced in November 8th 1978. Dad died May 17th 1962 and Mother died December 24th 1972.

After graduating from high school, Randy attended I.U.C.C., a Junior College in Olgesby, Illinois. He came home one day and asked if he could quit school and go to work. I said yes. June was angry with me because I was letting him quit. He worked one year at Caterpillar in Aurora, Illinois. He came home in the spring of 1974 and asked me if he could return to college. He had decided he wanted to become an Electrical Engineer and he had picked Georgia Tech in Atlanta, Georgia as the school as long as I said it was okay. He graduated from there in December, 1978. He went to work for Georgia Power Company there and they financed his education for his Masters degree. He graduated from Georgia Tech again on March 17^th, 1984.

Randy married Jill Jones in Parma, Ohio on April 30^th, 1983. They now live in Norcross (updated to Snellville), Georgia and Randy works in Atlanta.

I’ve had a spell of hospitals for various reasons over the past few years. I had Phlebitis and surgery in 1974. I had spinal surgery in April 1977 and more spinal surgery in August 1977. Now I am designated as totally disabled and on total disability retirement from Caterpillar Tractor Company in Joliet. Otherwise I am now living a lonely life of leisure at my home at 1008 Clark Street in Marseilles, Illinois, a house I had owned but is now mortgaged. I’ve lived here since November, 1962.

- Thomas L. Cunico -

Tut Tut

(Otherwise know through the years as Tubby, all 245 pounds of me)

Robert Walter Cunico

I remember attending Kindergarten classes at the Methodist Church in the afternoon with Miss McBride and her mother who was teaching the class. Those attending were Ted Gemberling (deceased). Dick Rhines (deceased). Fay Starrett. Lindo Silvers and Eleanor Armstrong. Dad would take me at noon in the World War I Stake truck owned by Hunter and Allen Lumber Company.

I remember walking to Kindergarten and Riskadahls dog started chasing me and I picked up a rock and threw it hitting him on the head. No problem with him after. The class moved on the hill at Miss McBrides home and I forgot. Dad dropped me off as usual and when I went inside and found no one I came out and sat on the Church steps and cried and the lady across the street called Mom and she came and got me.

I remember making a Santa Claus in Kindergarten. I was real proud of it so Mom put it on top of the piano in the parlor. After it sat a few days I decided to eat the gum drops. That same day Clema Barra came over to see Mom and she went to get the Santa Claus to show her and it was in a deplorable condition.

Chuck was baby sitting we kids and I wouldn't behave so he rubbed my nose on the carpet in the living room. He told me the dog did his business on that spot. I was so angry I ran into the kitchen and got a kitchen knife out of the drawer and threw it at him hitting him on the chest and ran out of the house.

We kids use to climb all the time on the garage roof and house roof. I remember getting lickens for breakfast, dinner and supper and sometimes between meals. I received so many spankings my backside was calloused so I began to not feel it so I wouldn't cry which upset the whole family.

I stuttered so bad that I couldn't communicate so this upset everyone. Between yelling of "shut ups" I would receive slaps in the face.

I would sit between 110m and Dad at the dinner table so I would be in a good position to be hit if I even tried to talk during meal time.

Grampa Barth used to say grace at all family meal time meals.

I remember Grandpa Barth saying "Check" to anyone he talked to on the telephone. He never carried on any conversation on it. Only "Check."

Dad would play ball in the side yard. Tom had a sty in his eye and Dad hit the ball hitting Tom in the eye breaking the sty. Dad gave us hell because a ball was hit for a home run and it went thru Mrs. McCormicks upstairs window. Dad replaced the window and a few days later Dad was playing ball with us and he was up to bat -well he hit a home run right thru the same upstairs window. That ended Dads ball playing.

Dad came home every day in the stake truck to get a bowl of coffee. He always arrived around 10 a.m.

I remember telling the kids in second grade Dad was in the Navy and he was real friends of the Admiral. Kids really razed me.

Dad once told us a story of the Buffalo nickel and Tom went right to school and told his class. Mom got a call immediately.

Dad couldn't tell a story without forgetting the punch line.

Dad usually had control of the radio and he would always listen to ball games. I always hated it. One day I wanted to listen to a program and Dad wanted sports. An argument started and Mom lost her cool, picking up the radio and smashing it on the floor.

I liked the smell of Dads clothes when he was around as they always smelled of saw dust.

I would get all the brothers fighting and I would stand back and watch. This insured me to be taken along with them whenever they went away.

One time Mom let me out of the car at Collins Corner to go across the tracks to Bob Morella's Tavern to get Grandpa Barth to come home for supper. A train was going by and when it cleared I was about to take off and run when a train came by on the other track.

Tom, I and Barth all got long pants so we wouldn't have to wear knickers anymore. A picture was taken out in the driveway with the garden behind us.

One time Mom got a beauty makeup applied along with a permanent and a new evening gown because of a big doings at the Rebecca's. She didn't even look like Mom. She sure was beautiful.

During the war I use to write home on V-mail and I wrote real small. After it was photographed Dad wrote back and said he could hardly read it except with a magnifying glass and if I couldn't write bigger to quit writing. Incidentally he was the one who wrote most of the letters.

Dad made a sled for we younger boys for Christmas. It was really great. I took a flop on it and headed down the driveway, I couldn't steer it and I was heading out to the street. I rolled off and the sled continued on and Riskadahls milk truck ran over it, smashing it. I thought -here goes another licking but this time I luck out.

Dad would unload a car of lumber or cement by himself so he could buy us kids shoes. One time I wasn't to get a new pair as mine were good enough. So I took a screw driver and pulled the heels off. I got a new pair -no licking again.

Lois and I lived over above Fat Morellas. Steve was just starting to walk. He got into the trash can and picked up a can lid. He fell and cut his hand bad. Lois called Dad to take Steve to the doctor. Dad who was afraid of blood came and here was Steve with a bloody towel wrapped around his hand. Lois thought Dad was about to faint.

Dad came over quite often when we moved to our address. He and Lois got close and he and Lois would repair screens and etc. around the house. We always paid him in cash and hide it in his wallet so Lou wouldn't find out.

The day he died he was over at 'noon. Steve arrived from school and he wanted Dad to stay and eat. Dad always said no as he had to get home and feed Grandma. Of course I always told Dad to let Grandma feed herself as she wouldn't come over. But we knew Dad had a mind of his own and we allowed him to come and go as he pleased.

There was a time a stranger had a flat and no spare. I called Dad to see if he would bring a tire and wheel to help this guy. Dad thinking it was me who had the flat came over. When he found out it wasn't me he was mad as hell. We did get his tire and wheel back.

There also was the time when Lois was in Minneapolis with Steve and I was coming home in a new Plymouth. I fell asleep and drove off into Spicers Gravel Pit hitting a pile of tile. I called Dad up and Tom, Barth, Dad and I drove all the way to Seneca looking for the car. We didn't find it. On the way back they all insisted I was wrong about the car and I continued to say, "I parked it... Well, dead eye Tom spotted the roof of the car on top of the pile of tile.

Dad and I were never close til the last two years he lived. Before he died Lois, I and Steve were real close to him.

I borrowed Dad's brand new Rambler to go to Iowa and Minnesota to visit the in-laws. On a small detour the gas tank's single strap broke and we lost the gas tank. I'd just filled up with gas a few miles back. All I could think of is Dad would never believe me.

Before Steve was born and Lois was carrying him we headed to Utah with Dad and Mom. We stopped in Foley, Minnesota to see Lois's parents. Lois was having problems carrying Steve so she decided to stay with her folks. (Lois didn't agree with that and said: No, I went as far as South Dakota and took the train back to my folks.)

Well, when we were going thru the mountains and Dad was driving Mom was scared and she wanted Dad to stop and let me drive. The problem was Mom was sitting on the right side in front and all she could see was the drop off of the road. Well, after getting fed up listening to Mom cry, Dad stopped and got in back. So I drove and Mom was quiet. Well, Dad was real furious with her cause she trusted me instead of him.

When I came home from the Air Force and told the folks I decided to marry Lois who was 4 1/2 years older than me Mom was furious. She insisted I didn't marry her. She is old enough to be my mother. Well, I told her I needed a mother so I was going to marry her.

Mom locked the back door on me one night because she knew I was drinking. I slept in the car. The next evening I came home with a pint of whiskey. She demanded no booze would be allowed in the house. I said OK I can't bring booze in then I and the booze would stay out. I slept in the car again. After that she never said or demanded anything.

After Dad died she decided to go with Herman Wallace. She finally decided to marry him. She asked each of us boys if we objected. We all said it was up to her, so she married him.

Mom was later upset with Herman cause he didn't want to travel as it was too expensive. She got fed up and left him and went to live with Aunt Mary. After a year or so she called me and wanted me to go to Herman and ask him for her, for a divorce. I told her if she wanted to divorce him she had to tell him herself. So she was mad at me.

To sum it up Mom was domineering and strong willed. She always insisted in having her own way. She felt there was no one better looking or smarter than her five beautiful boys. The wives were tolerated except Elsie, whom she loved.

Dad was soft hearted and loved her very much. He'd lose his temper if anyone said anything against her. I think Dad missed his Catholic religion as he got older and he missed his side of the family. He enjoyed sincerely all his grandchildren.

Below are events in my life that could have stopped my existence:

When I was being breast fed my dad came home from work and mom told dad I seemed to be weakening and I was starting to turn blue. Dad decided I was starving so he took off running down town to get a baby bottle, nipple and eagle brand milk. When he prepared the formula he shoved it in my mouth and I sucked for old glory. Course it was decided mom had dried up and I was starving.

When the homestead caught fire when I was about eighteen months old I was sitting on the pot in the bathroom. During the excitement everyone forgot me. Well Mrs. Chivatero came in the back door to see ~hat she could do and she discovered me and carried me out to safety.

We were in Wauconda, Illinois visiting Uncle Chick and Aunt Grace when it was decided we boys including cousin James Barth (he was Chick and Grace's adopted son) were sent across the street to swim in the Wauconda Lake. Of course I, as always decided to make myself the center of attraction, so I hollered, yelled, etc., and Played like I was drowning. Everyone, of course ignored me. I got bored and I finally discovered a raft about 30 feet out. So, I walked and dog paddled toward the lake. Well about two-thirds the way out I was over my head and I began to panic. So I yelled for help. No one paid any attention to me as they thought I was fooling around. Finally a eight year old girl swam over to me and she said if I didn't try to drown her she would pull me to the raft. I was scared and embarrassed but I told her don 't worry I wouldn't try to drown her. She pulled me to the raft. Later on after I got my breath I had her pull me towards shore so I could walk out of the lake, which she did. I was one embarrassed 13 year old kid. Dad saw all this going on and he wanted to help &pd he wanted one of the boys to save me but Dad couldn't swim and the boys ignored me.

One Saturday afternoon I was trying to swim in the rock quarry in Morris and I stepped in a hole and nearly drowned. I was sixteen at the time and Bob Warnick pulled me out.

When I was in the Pacific during the war we anchored at Ulithi Atoll for a rest from the war zone. The captain had men put a life line out circling the ship so those who wanted to swim could go in. He also had a raft out about 50 yards. Well, Roy Hiblen from Columbus Ohio who was a buddy of mine talked me into going swimming. Well, I still couldn't swim but I could dog fashion. I didn't want anyone to know I couldn't swim so we went in. After we were swimming for a short time he started trying to drown me. It didn't take much as I be came exhausted and went under. He said he couldn't find me for a short time but finally he saw my head. He grabbed me by the hair and pulled me in. I had passed out for a while but of course I came around. He said he was sorry and wouldn't try that again. The next day he talked me into swimming again as he said he would teach me how. So, we went back in. I was really doing great dog fashion, side stroke, overhand, and floating. Well, while I was floating, Roy swam to the raft to rest. He yelled to me to come over so I rolled over and started to side stroke to the raft. Well, I got caught in the current and it was carrying me away from the raft towards sea. I yelled for help so Roy swam out to get me. I passed out before he got there and I went under. He caught me and took me back to the ship. I learned drowning was a beautiful way to die because you have fear at first but shortly after you just get tired and give up. The captain issued an order that Bob Cunico was not allowed to swim anymore off the ship.

When I was about six, Grandpa Barth and I were walking up to the cemetery on a Sunday afternoon. We were at the corner of Indiana Avenue and East Bluff when I let go of his hand and was going to run across Bluff Street ahead of him. Well, he reached and pulled me back just in time as a car wizzed by.

When I was stationed in San Francisco at 571 Market Street I got bored one Saturday. It was about 90 degrees in the shade. I was thirsty so I decided to go across the street to a Nite Club for a drink. After several drinks (4 or 5 ???) I walked . out to the street in the hot sun. I was really light headed and dizzy. A street car was going down Market so I walked out to the street and stood at the other track as it was going by. Well, a street car came the other direction and when I realized it I moved between them both. There wasn't much room but I remained standing there bouncing back and forth between the cars as they passed each other. If I hadn't been loaded I believe I would have been killed. ..you know I sobered up quick.

Of course, there was all the typhoons and enemy attacks while in the South Pacific. My carrier was hit once with three torpedoes, mid section but all three were duds.

There were all the accidents I had with my cars especially when I went off in Spicer Gravel Pit into a pile of tile. I totaled a new Plymouth.

Barth Phillip Cunico

Unfortunately, my Father chose not to participate in boyhood stories.