College and Eighth: A Memoir
The Bowery Boys have nothing on these guys. This book is uniquely conversational, utilizing the voice of the protagonist at various stages in his development. Herb Hyde is a retired former autoworker, union activist, avid college hockey fan and local history buff.
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Fall Announcements: Memoirs & Biographies
Nov 08, Payal Sinha rated it it was amazing. Herbert Hyde has written a wonderful memoir that takes us down the memory lane into his growing up years. While his memoir is interesting, amusing and heart rending, it is also quite thought provoking and insightful and raises a number of societal questions. Herbert is a good judge of characters and this is reflected in the chapter describing his two sets of grandparents.
His favorite was Billy Mayes, the fattest, biggest and wimpiest kid on the block. If Billy sneezed the wrong way, that was an excuse for Eddie to pop him one. We also find the cat lady accidentally cooking her beloved cat. I liked the book for its sincerity, for its humanity and for its familial love with which I am able to connect with.
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Herb rated it it was amazing Apr 29, Linda rated it liked it Mar 28, Maria Eads added it Jul 19, Matthew Perfetti added it Oct 08, Rachel Krupsky marked it as to-read May 03, You'll find also significantly complicated watches that offer rolex replica sale displays of time and are often put to use for athletes and other sport personalities for competitors and education purposes.
His story of growing up poor and white in what was once a vital industrial city is an alarming reflection of the… profile for so many American cities Paperback copies can be ordered by contacting the Troy Bookmakers or the author at hhyde nycap. This chapter is included here by permission of the author.
I Guess We Are Poor. A few years earlier my sister Dorothy dragged me and my younger sisters down to the Salvation Army for their annual Christmas party. I think Cliff was away at Vanderhyden Hall that year and Patty refused to go. This was the first and only time I remember us going to that party.
College and Eighth: A Memoir
Apparently, this was one of the bleakest Christmases we ever had, because Dad had not gotten much work, and when he did, he drank away most of the money. Plus, Grandma and Grandpa Davenport were in a financial crisis.
Sales had slowed and they didn't have much extra money that year. I learned later that my grandparents were the ones who always made sure we had Christmas gifts under the tree. They were our "Santa and Mrs. Ma was silently crying at the kitchen table that day because things had gotten so bad. She knew we wouldn't have any gifts under the tree. Looking up at me with tears running down her cheeks, she smiled, then hugged me and said, "Oh it's nothing, honey, I'm just feeling the blues.
An hour later, Dorothy came into the parlor where we were playing and told us all to make sure we were dressed.
However, this year was different. She was desperate and truly believed that going to this year's party would be our Christmas, providing us the only presents we'd get. She loved parties and loved to dress up, while the thought of seeing Santa Claus sent chills of excitement up my spine. Just wear what you have on. It's going to start in about a half hour, so we got to get moving, get your coats on, now! Come to find out, most of our "new" clothes were actually used clothes from the Salvation Army.
As kids, we could have cared less where we got them, because they were always new to us. I don't want to be like them. Patty stayed home in her room that day. We soon began the long trek down the RPI Approach to Broadway, making sure we stayed on the opposite side of the street from Gaynor's Gay spot. At Fourth Street and the Post Office, we turned north into the freezing cold winds and snow flurries that were buffeting the city that brutal December day.
Just north of Fulton Street, Dorothy ordered us to stand behind a group of grungy looking kids, dressed in tattered clothes like ours. They had been waiting patiently for the door to open. We shivered in the freezing cold for about fifteen minutes, when a volunteer finally opened the door. She counted each laughing kid as they raced gleefully past her and up the creaky wooden stairs. As Dorothy reached the front of the line, she said, regretfully, "I'm sorry, I think we're full up.
I know this poor girl must have felt terrible seeing the sadness in Dorothy's eyes and us little kids shivering behind her. With tears welling in her eyes, Dorothy pleaded, "Can you please see if you can find room for us? My little brother and sisters have been standing in the cold for a long time, and they haven't had a real meal in days.
We had been eating watered-down, pea soup and stale bread for the past week. Ma had made the soup from a leftover ham-bone and a bag of dried green peas Winnie gave her the week before. She knew Ma had nothing left to eat in the house. Being the proud woman she was, Ma refused to add to the tab at Harry's. She was embarrassed because she couldn't pay him what she promised. She had been hoping that Dad would soon be home with some money.
But he never came. He'd already been away for a week, supposedly cutting Christmas trees with Frank Lanquid. In past years, he'd sell them from an old ice fishing shanty he kept illegally on a vacant corner lot behind Helficks. Sensing our disappointment, the girl said to Dorothy, "Let me check and see if we can fit you in.
Just as we were about to leave, she returned to the door smiling. Quick, come in out of the cold and warm up. With tears of joy, Dorothy replied, "Thank you so much. You don't know how much this means to us.
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As we reached the second floor, we heard the raucous laughter of dozens of kids and saw the festive lights shining out into the darkened hall where we were standing. As we warily entered the room, smiling volunteers dressed in the soldier-like garb of the Salvation Army and Santa hats handed each of us a colorful candy cane and a small cardboard box, decorated with snowflakes, a wreath, or pictures of Frosty the Snowman with hard candy inside.