8-24-2016
Good Friday April 19th 1935, I was born at 5:20 p.m. to John Joseph Hannigan, Junior and Catherine Rita nee Donahue. They lived at 17 Buckingham Street, Readville, Massachusetts. My father was a blue collar worker for the New York, New Haven, and Hartford Railroad in the Readville Car Shops as an electrician. My mother is a housewife. 17 Buckingham Street was built by my Grandfather Daniel Donohue as dowry for my mother’s marriage. My parents were second generation Irish Americans and of Roman Catholic faith and politically follows the Irish-American population as Democrats. I was named in the typical Irish naming process John Dennis Hannigan after my Grandfather John Joseph Hannigan, Senior and his brother Dennis Hannigan. And so, I entered this world as a third generation Irish American. My early years were very much set in the old Irish family tradition. Do as I say, not as I do. I learned how to behave in church. I learned to do my chores when I was told. And I learned if I talked back to either of my parents that meant severe punishment. Punishment was dealt out two ways, one being a beating on the backside and the other going to bed without a meal. I learned to respect my parents at a young age and did what I was told to do.
By the time I turned five years old, I had daily chores to do around the house. When I got up in the morning I had to make my bed before breakfast. Taking care of our dog Princess was also my chore. I would take out the trash. It was my chore to put the iceman card in the front window for ice every day. [We did not have a refrigerator until after World War Two.] When the Iceman came, he would bring in a five or ten cent piece of ice and put it in the window icebox. After he left, I would go with my mother up to the local grocery store to get what she needed for that day. By the time father came home from work, the ice would be melted and the local groceries were cooked for supper.
After the supper table was cleaned off and the dishes washed, the family would relax in the living room listening to the radio. First was the fifteen minute nightly news, and then there were fifteen minute comedy and cowboy shows. My bedtime was 7:30 every evening. As soon as the Lone Ranger show on the radio was over, I was on my way to bed. Princess slept at the foot of my bed.
My father was the head of the household and what he said was law. Think imitated his father in running the house. His favorite statement was do as I say not as I do. If mother challenged him on a decision he made and argument would always be a result. HE wanted control and was intimidating.
I remember the following incidents while growing up in my early childhood.
- a. I was about two years old when Church Pastor, Father Regan, visited our house one evening. He came to discuss with my parents about raising a family. He told my parents it was time to have another child. My father disagreed with the Pastor because of my mother’s pregnancy with me. A discussion ensued and finally the Pastor left. My father told me then that I would not have a sister or brother, that I was the only child.
- b. I was about four years old when my mother’s father Daniel Donohoe died. The wake was held in the family home at 15 Buckingham Street. His casket was set up in the living room. The black wreath was hung on the front door of the home. The wake was about three days and there was a lot of food. The adults were toasting him every once in a while with beer and liquor. The day of the funeral, the horse drawn carriage pulled up in front of 15. They loaded my grandfather’s casket onto the carriage and started the funeral. All his children and their spouse and grandchildren walked in a procession behind the carriage. The funeral Procession went to St. Anne’s Roman Catholic Church for a Funeral Mass. Then we went on to the cemetery and to his gravesite. I was pushed in my stroller the length of the procession to the grave. Then we went home.
- c. Family arguments between my parents. These occurred several times in my early childhood. I do not remember most of them. However, one stands out in my memory quite clearly. My mother was at the sink washing dishes and my father was sitting at the kitchen table. Words flew back and forth. My mother had a carving knife in her hand, she turned around and threw it at my father. The knife stuck in the kitchen wall. My father pulled the knife out, walked to the kitchen door, and threw the knife out in the field next to my house. There was never any sharp or carving knives in our house after that incident.
- d. I was six years old and we were at Grandfather Hannigan’s home for a Sunday afternoon meal. It was December the 7th, 1941. The radio was turned on and we were listening to classical music while we ate the dinner meal. All at once, the program was interrupted by the news that Pearl Harbor, in Hawaii was bombed by the Japanese. This started an interesting conversation between my father and his father. Grandfather said John, I guess that means that you might be going on active duty. My father responded, NO, I resigned my commission when Jackie [Me] was born in 1935. The conversation got a little loud and I was sent to a bedroom because children should not hear adult conversations. We left Grandpa’s later in the day.
- e. It was winter and the ice had formed on the hockey rink that was next to the Neponset River. A group of us kids decided to go play hockey. We went home and got our hockey gear and met at the rink. The rink was built on the river band side of the Neponset River overflow, the ice formed over about six inches of water. During the game, the hockey puck went over the river bank and onto the Ice on the river. We could not reach it with our hockey sticks so the game was over. Robert was nine years old said he would try to slide his body onto the ice and get the puck. We told him no, but he insisted and started to slide like a snake on the ice, his arm outstretched holding his hockey stick. HE got the puck and started to slither back to the bank when crack and the ice broke. Robert went under the ice about three feet from shore. There was panic, what shall we do? He came up for air we tried to reach him but he could not hold onto the hockey stick and went under once again. Robert’s cousin Kenny took off his skates and ran stocking footed to the fire station six blocks away and then to Robert’s home. The fireman came and put a boat in the water and started to drag the river bottom for Robert’s body. Robert’s family came and watched with the rest of us as the firemen continued to drag the river bottom. It took a couple of hours before the firemen finally brought Robert’s body to the surface. He was frozen stiff and we all started to cry. The ambulance came and took Robert away. I just lost a nine year friend trying to save a hockey puck and instead it cost him his life.
- One winter day, I was sledding at the local hill. I was going down the hill and a friend was coming up the hill. He slipped and fell on me and his sled runner hit the back of my head. We slid a little further down the hill and then stopped. I did not know that the back of my head was cut until I got home and tried to take off my stocking cap. The blood had dried and it was stuck to my cap and my hair. My mother removed my cap and bandaged the cut.
- I was working at the golf course washing the pro shop windows on a ladder. Lady the local golf course dog run under the ladder. I lost my balance and my left forearm went thru the window pane. I wrapped my arm in a towel from the clubhouse and called my father. He picked me up and took me to the family doctor. My left arm had several cuts, some were deep. The doctor sewed some and clamped the real deep cuts.
GRAMMAR SCHOOL
When I turned six years old, my parents told me that I would be going to school in September. They had enrolled me in the first grade at Saint Anne’s Roman Catholic Grammar School in my hometown. When the day came that I was to start school, my mother walked me to the school a couple of city blocks from our house. It was eight o’clock when she left me with the first grade Sister of Charity and went home. All of a sudden my security of home disappeared. Other children my age was also left with the first grade Sister. Sister was tall and dressed in a black habit with a white cap that covered her shoulders. She carried a pointer and told us where to sit and to be quiet. No talking in class was aloud. We had several classes in the morning and also had a chance to go outside and play. I could see our house from the playground area. After being outside on the playground, we were called back to class and finished the morning with more classes. At noon, Sister told us that we could go home for lunch [no cafeteria in the building] and to be back at 1:00 o’clock. I hurried home and told my mother that I did not want to go back to school because the Sister scared me. Mother fed me lunch and walked me back to school for the afternoon classes. The afternoon classes ended at four o’clock.
Three incidents occurred on the first day of school. First, we were to practice our penmanship, so I picked up the pen holder and pen point and put them together with my left hand. I started to do my penmanship with my left hand. Sister practically ran down to my seat and hit my left hand with her pointer. Sister said ”I will have no left handed devils in my class”. She went back to her desk got a piece of rope and tied my left hand over the front of my desk to the pedestal for the rest of the morning and I learned to write right handed. That day I will remember the rest of my life.
Second, Sister was speaking in the front of the classroom. She asked Thomas if he was paying attention. Thomas shook his head. Sister run down to Thomas seat and hit him across the shoulders. Thomas started to cry.
Third returning to school from lunch, Barbara raised her hand. Sister ignored it. Barbara waived her hand and sister finally acknowledged it and asked what Barbara wanted? She asked for permission to go to the bathroom. Sister’s reply was to wait until the class goes to the playground. A few minutes later, we could hear water splashing on the floor. Barbra sat in her own urine and in her wet panties for the rest of the afternoon.
Before we left the first day of school, Sister gave each of us a note to give to our parents. The note from school was discussed at the evening meal after my father came home from work. The note said that starting the next morning I should be at Saint Anne’s Roman Catholic Church at 6:45 in the morning to attend daily mass. The Church was a half mile away from our house. This meant that I would continue this daily practice until the end of my eighth grade graduation in June 1948. The school children sat in the church pews and would sing and pray when the priest asked us to response. After church, the school children would assemble outside in rows of two, the younger classes holding hands. We could not speak while the procession from church to school about another half mile. Upon arriving at school, we would go to our school room and start morning classes. My days in first grade eventually became a routine that I would follow. I was graduated to the second grade in June. During my summer vacation, I attend Sunday mass with my parents.
After summer vacation, I returned to school and the daily catholic mass and procession to school for the second grade. I was used to the Sister’s black habit and the white cap that covered her shoulders. My second grade Sister was a lot more tolerant than my first grade Sister. By the second grade I seemed to settle me down and became a student. The subjects were easy for me. Sometimes, I would get an A or B, but mostly C’s. Second grade introduced me more to the Roman Catholic religion. Here is where religion and the Low Mass came together. Next I had to prepare for my First Confession and First Holy Communion. I learned about the meaning of the Sacraments and also how to react when the priest gave me First Holy Communion. Of course, I had to go to confession first and tell God that I was sorry for the sins I had committed. At that young age, I did not realize that I had committed any sins. My First Communion day was sunny and the class all dressed in white to show innocents and purity to receive the Sacrament of Holy Communion. Yep, White shorts, knee high sox, white shoes and a whiter shirt and tie. Looked very nice dressed in white as I walked down the church aisle to kneel at the alter rail and receive the White Host of Communion from the Pastor of Saint Anne’s Roman Catholic Church. Graduating second grade in June, I entered my third year of Grammar school in the fall. Yes, summer vacation was here and I could stay at home and do my chores.
In the fall, I returned to the third grade. I did not know what to expect. My classes remained about the same the second grade. My grades did not improve either. The third grade Sister was a disciplinarian by all accounts. Besides the normal classes, once again religion was the important subject. My third grade Sister had the responsibility from the Pastor Dowling to select young boys to be altar boys. The training was very detailed. Going to church every morning and on weekends, she made you watch what the priest and the older altar boys did. Toward the middle of the year, things got real interesting as we learned the Latin language because the Low Mass was conducted by the priest in Latin. My first foreign language. By the time I graduated to the hat showed we were children of God and fourth grade, I would be a pious little altar boy. My parents were pleased and during the summer, they bought me a black cassock and white surplus that I would wear as an altar boy. Then I would start taking on the responsibilities of an altar boy at the start of fourth grade.
My fourth grade classes were a little more difficult and my grades did not improve. An occasional A or B, but still mostly C’s. I started my first year of being an altar boy. Religion once again was important as Sister prepared the fourth grade class for the Sacrament of Confirmation. As a Confirmation candidate, I had to take up the sword and shield and become a soldier of Christ in order to receive the Sacrament of Confirmation. I understood the Low Mass and had also served a High Mass. We were asked to pick a new name to show we were children of God and soldiers of Christ. I picked Joseph III as my Confirmation name. My Confirmation Day was the middle of May and it was bright and sunny. My parents were inside the church, when the class marched in all dressed in white once again. The High Mass was officiated by the Archbishop of Boston Richard J. Cushing. When the Archbishop called the Confirmation fourth grade pupils forward, we all stood up, exited the pews and knelt at the altar rail. When it came my turn, the Archbishop asked me “what name have you chosen?” I responded Joseph III. He then confirmed me a soldier of Christ and announce my name as John Dennis Joseph III Hannigan. I left the altar rail and returned to my seat. After the High Mass, my parents asked me why I chose Joseph III as my Confirmation Name. I replied, if it was good enough for grandpa and father, then it had to be good enough for me. My parents were proud that I now was confirmed and learning more about the Roman Catholic Church. I graduated fourth grade in June and enjoyed vacation before returning to school in the fifth grade.
I do not remember much of the fifth thru seventh grade at St. Anne’s Roman Catholic Grammar School. We still attended morning mass and then the procession in two’s to school. I matured some and performed well as an altar boy. I served both Low and High Mass, Funeral Mass, Marriage High Mass and Afternoon Marriage Ceremony, Benediction Ceremony, and the Stations of the Cross during the Lenten Season. Yes, I receive more education in Roman Catholic Religion than I did from academia curriculum in grammar school. The parish closed St. Anne’s Roman Catholic Grammar School at the end of the seventh grade. I made it to the eighth grade.
Our eighth grade was in a former City of Boston School that was closed and purchased by the parish. The eighth grade was not much of a challenge for me. I did get more A’s & B’S and less C’s. I looked forward to graduation in June 1948 and going to City of Boston District Schools for Junior and Senior High School with the rest of my class. After graduation, the summer went by fast as I prepared to enter William Barton Rogers Junior High School as a ninth grader.
Summer of 1948 went by fast. I had a summer job at a golf course as an assistant to the Greens Keeper. I learned how to handle machinery. I mowed tee off boxes, and mowed fairways with a tractor and seven gang mowing unit. The money I earned was meant to go to a college fund. I wanted to go to the University of Massachusetts [UofM] and get a Degree in Agriculture so I could work on and manage a golf course as a Greens Keeper. I had a goal set coming out of the eighth grade and I was Happy that I had made a career decision at an early age of thirteen.
JUNIOR AND SENIOR HIGH SCHOOL
Junior High School started right after the Labor Day Holiday. Much to my amazement I was not going to William Barton Rogers Junior High School. Yep, my parents enrolled me in Boston College High School, [BCHS} an all-boys prep school taught by Jesuit Priests and Brothers, as a freshman in the City of Boston proper. They did not like my decision to go to the UofM, their reason I had to be a professional and I needed a Roman Catholic education in BCHS, so that I could go on to Boston College and get my college degree.
FRESHMAN YEAR
Needless to say, I was not a happy young man. I would not have my grammar school classmates to chum around with. Instead of a fifteen minute ride to local school, I now had a hour ride on a bus, trolley car, then the elevate [EL] train to Northampton Street. After leaving EL and additional mile walk to school.
My first day at BCHS, I was assigned to room E and met my new classmates. The Jesuit priest was middle aged and definitely was in charge of us. There is no talking in class and when I call on you for class participation, your will answer with respect Yes Father. Then HE wrote on the board our curriculum and informed us that all the classed would be held in Room E. The curriculum went like this – Religion, English Composition, English Literature, fifteen minute break in school, Latin Composition one, lunch in school. Mathematics, Latin Literature, fifteen minute break in school Ancient History. School hours were from eight in the morning until four in the afternoon. Seven hours of class and one hour of breaks and lunch all in school, no recess outside the school. Then we were provided the books that were to be used in each class. By the time to be dismissed at four came, I was stunned at the curriculum that was piled on me as a thirteen year old.
I got home about five in the evening and showed my parents what studies that my freshman year at BCHS encompassed. To my dismay, my father told me that I would need all that education when I became a professional. The next morning I was up early, had breakfast, packed a lunch and headed for the hour long ride to school. C lasses started right at eight o’clock. The first week was long and I had about three hours of homework every night. No radio programs just studying for the next day in school. Soon, I got used to the morning grind and my freshman year settled into a routine five days a week. I had a little time to myself over the weekend. The first grading period was a disaster, two B’s, four C’s and a D. My parents signed off on my report card but said nothing about my grades. The second grading period included mid-term exams one B, four C’s and two D’s. My parents signed off on that report card too. They asked me why my grades had gotten worse. I told them that the curriculum was getting harder for me to comprehend. My third grading period did not improve and then it was the fourth grading period, final exams and graduation to my sophomore year. Woops, my grades were worse and I did not pass my freshman year. I had failed my curriculum and I was not promoted to sophomore with my classmates. My parents did not say much but I am sure they were upset with me failing. What was in it for me? I had my summer job at the golf course and the money I made went into my college fund. I looked forward to going back to school in September. Where? I failed BCHS. I guess I would go to Boston’s District Schools. Bad news, my classmates from grammar school will be a year ahead of me and they will realize that I failed ninth grade.
FRESHMAN YEAR REPEAT
In August, I asked if I could register in the Boston District Schools and what grade should I apply for. My father told me no. He had re-registered me as a freshman again in BCHS. This blew my mind. I had failed BCHS Freshman year and now I was going to repeat the same grade in the same school. I had to be a professional. I was now fourteen years old. This time I was assigned to Room L. A Jesuit Brother was my teacher. I do not know if he knew I was repeating he freshman year. If he did, he never mentioned it and treated me just like the other new classmates. My first grading period was two B’s and he rest C’s. Once again my parents signed my report card and seemed proud that I improved from last year.
During the middle of my second grading period, I got bored with school. I felt like I was in limbo or a dream. I was repeating the same subjects that I failed last year. The pressure to meet my parents’ expectations in addition to the boredom of school put me in a depressed state of mind. I became angry and I was questioning myself, will I ever succeed in school and become the professional that my parents want me to be. There were days that I did not go to school because I could not face the boring daily routine. My parents were on me continually when I would tell them I did not want to go to school on a specific day or week. I took the mid-term test in each subject and still only received C’s. My goal was to finish the freshman repeat at BCHS and hope that I was promoted to sophomore and not fail again. If I pass and get promoted, maybe my parents will let me go to Hyde Park High School [HPHS] next fall.
I finally got back to regular attendance during my third grading period at BCHS. I only missed the first week of the grading period. I tried concentrating on what the Jesuit Brother was discussing and my classmate’s responses. The grading period went by fast and once again I got all C’s. At the end of the school year, I passed all the final exams, which include a couple of B’s and was promoted to my sophomore year. At last vacation period. Went back to work on the golf course during the summer adding the money to my college fund.
SOPHOMORE YEAR
After two years as a freshman and a dummy, I get to go to back to BCHS for my sophomore year. I ask my parents if I could transfer to HPHS. The answer was no. They paid the tuition for me to go to BCHS. They are making decisions for me since I am a minor. However my grades do not reflect going back to BCHS. Oh well, I will see what is in store for my curriculum. BCHS main campus is an additional mile walk from the Northampton EL station.
My first day as a sophomore assigned me to Room F. The Jesuit Priest was Father Murphy who had just returned to the United States from missionary work in Africa. HE welcomed us to class and then wrote on the board the curriculum that I would be required to take. Latin Composition 2, Latin Literature Caesars Gaelic Wars translation, Greek Composition 1, Greek Literature Homers Iliad, Ancient History 2, and English Composition 2. HE annotated on the curriculum that Religion was the class going to the eight o’clock mass in church next to the campus. And yes, we stay in the same classroom for all subjects. Wow. What a way to start my sophomore year, now I have two foreign languages to learn. Latin 1 was easy because of my altar boy training. Next we received our books that were required for sophomores. At the end of the day, I took the hour ride home. At the dinner table, I showed my parents my curriculum and that I had an additional foreign language, Greek, that I has to master before graduation in the spring. Once again my parents stressed that it was important to do the best I could so I could go to Boston College and be a professional.
I decide that I will do my best in all the classes since I want to make my parents proud of me. My sophomore year went well the first grading period. I got good and bad grades. My bad grades were in the Greek language classes. I will never be a linguist. To this day though, I know the Greek alphabet alpha to omega. During the second grading period, foreign languages still had me studying a lot to try and get a better grade. I understood some speaking and writing of the Greek language a period. I did find time in my sophomore year to play organized sports for BCHS. I ran indoor track in the 440 yard race, the mile relay team and did the high jump. I also played junior varsity football as the teams quarterback.
My father, John J. Hannigan Jr. had a heart attack on a Sunday morning after leaving church. He was in the hospital for a week and at home before being released by the doctor to go back to work. My family had no Health Insurance and my father did not get paid while he was off work. My mother used my college fund money to pay doctor bills, hospital bill. She also managed to pay the household bills and keep the food products paid. After my father went back to work at the railroad electric department, he started to get paid. My college fund was never replaced, so I went to work for the A&P after school and on Saturdays to replenish my college fund.
During the Christmas break, I found some Greek cleft notes at a bookstore. The notes help me cheat in my Greek studies and third grading period I got a C+ in Greek. I do not know if Father knew I was using cleft notes. If HE did, HE never said anything to me. The fourth grading period ended with final exams. My report card was a couple of B’s and the rest C’s. I was promoted to my Junior Year. BCHS was in the process of relocating out of the City of Boston to a new campus in Dorchester. Once again, I hoped to transfer to HPHS for my junior year. You guessed it. My parents stood firm on my BCHS education. Tuition was paid for my junior year to BCHS.
Vacation was here and I was once again working at the Golf Course. I enjoyed being outside and the work wasn’t really hard as I had machines and tractors to do the work. All I did was operate them. Once again, my money went into a college fund. Return to school from vacation, I now had to ride a bus to a different trolley stop. Take the trolley to a different EL Station then take the EL to the Columbia Street Station and walk about a mile to the new BCHS campus in Dorchester for my Junior Year at BCHS.
JUNIOR YEAR
My junior year at BCHS started out just like the earlier years. A Jesuit Priest Father Dooley was my instructor. He wrote the curriculum on the board as follows, Latin Literature Cicero Translation, Greek 2 Composition, Greek 2 Literature, French 1 Composition, Religion, Algebra, and American History. Most of my junior classmates came from my sophomore year. My classes were hard and now I had three foreign languages to study in addition to Algebra and American History. A neighbor was manager of an A&P Store in Dorchester and had me transferred to his store as a part time clerk for after school and on Saturdays. I would ride home with him in the evening when he closed the grocery store. This meant that I would be putting more money in the college fund. My first grading period was a mess, C’s & D’s. Father Rector called my parents for a meeting. HE indicated that if my grades did not improve by the mid-term exams HE recommended a transfer to another school. HE told my parents that my grades have been consistently low especially since I repeated my freshman year. MY parents were not too pleased with the meeting. I had to quit my job at the A&P and study harder in school and also more homework. The second grading period showed no improvement. Once again, my parents met with Father Rector and I was kicked out of BCHS because of low grades.
My parents had to decide where to place me in school. My parents tried to get me enrolled after the Christmas holidays in Boston Latin School. The curriculums were similar but the reply was no. I ended up going to HPHS and entered school as a junior for the second half of the year. HPHS was a coeducational school and there was less stress in meeting the expectations of a teacher or parents. When my grades were transferred from BCHS, mu curriculum was, English Literature, French, Art, Biology, Gym, and a Study Hall. I also played sports, Indoor Tract, Football, Basketball, and Outdoor Track. At first it was embarrassing for me. My grammar school classmates were seniors. When I met the in school and was only a junior they wanted to know what happened? It was hard to tell them that I flunked out of BCHS after repeating my freshman year. The curriculum was much easier considering that all my subjects from BCHS transferred to HPHS. I passed all subjects and the final exams. My final grades were B’s and a couple of C+’s. I was promoted to Senior and I needed only 11 more points to graduate.
SENIOR YEAR
My senior year at HPHS should be easy for me. I only need 11 points to graduate. I could graduate early in January or go the full year and graduate in June. My senior year classes were French 2 Composition and Literature, Art, Mechanical Drawing, English Literature, Gym, and a Study Hall. Study Hall was a class to do your homework assignments in. I also signed up for ROTC and was promoted to a LT. I had more than enough points to graduate. I also ran indoor track, played basketball and football.
My first grading period was all B’s. My folks signed the report card but I knew that they were disappointed that I was not at BCHS. My second grading period and mid-term exams brought my grades up to an A in French and Art with B’s in other classes. Still my parents were happy. I went to work at a local A&P Store part time during the weekdays and on Saturday. Once again, I put the money into a college fund. I had enough point to graduate in January, but I did not. I liked going to HPHS as there was no stress and I was only seventeen. My grades improved during the second half of the year. I was a jock and I now hoped to get a sports scholarship to the University of Massachusetts to pursue Agriculture for working on the golf course.
I enlisted in the Massachusetts Army National Guard in February 1953. I got my driver’s license in April 1953 when I turned eighteen. In June 1953, I graduated, quit my job at A&P and went back to work on the golf course. I was not accepted at the University of Massachusetts. My father intervened, and got me a job on the railroad in the warehouse so I had to give up the golf course work. The money was better. The work involved loading outgoing freight cars with warehouse materials for other repair shops. I also unload incoming freight cars with materials for the local railroad shops. I really did not like the work.
One day, I was in the restroom and I heard my father’s voice talking to the local bookie. My father owed the bookie money as he had been betting on horse racing, greyhound dog racing and also playing the numbers pool. He told the bookie that he was going over to the railroad credit union at noon and get his money. Both my father and the bookie left the restroom before I did. I confronted my father about his gambling debt. He got upset with me and told me to stay out of his business. That was the turning point that I decided to find a different job. I did not believe at the time, that my mother knew about the credit union and my father’s gambling.
November 1953, I talked to my Commanding Officer at the National Guard. I told him I wanted a discharge from the Guard so I could enlist in the Army. My Commanding Officer explained what I would have to do and I followed his instructions. I went to the Boston Army Base and talked with the Army recruiter. I was provided a letter that if my Commanding Officer granted me a Honorable Discharge from the Guard, I could enlist the next day. November 14th, I quit my railroad job. November 15th 1953, I was discharged from the Guard as a PFC in the military police. I went home that night and at the supper table, I told my parents that it was the last time that I would be eating supper with them. My father asked what have you done now, I heard you quit your job. My response took them by surprise. I quit my job, I got discharged from the National Guard and tomorrow I enlist in the Army and go to Fort Dix, New Jersey for basic training. There was a hush and then my mother yelled at me what did you do? I repeated that I was going in the Army on November 16th. I made a decision and I was getting away from the parental discipline, religion and going out on my own. Next morning, I said good bye to my folks. I shook my fathers hand and kissed and hugged my mother goodbye and for them not to worry about me.
Wow, I made a decision and finally found a way to get away from the childhood intimidation of my father.
