Dad came from a broken home of sorts. They were extremely poor. When dad was a teen, his father decided to abandon the family. His excuse - the one I heard - was that he could no longer stand nanny's housekeeping and poor habits. Obviously there was more to it than that. My grandfather spent his remaining days in places like Hawaii and California, occasionally mailing photos of his adventures home. I can only imagine how this must have made nanny feel. In my opinion, Dad's father was not there when dad needed him most. Eventually, my grandfather, Samuel Benjamin Tobias, died alone in Camp Pendleton, California.
Without a good father's influence, dad got into a lot of trouble. He inherited his father's Harley-Davidson motorcycle, and tells of how he used to outrun police with it through the streets of Reading. At one point, he and some friends decided to steal a car (it was his idea), an action that landed him in the Reading Boys Home. Ironically, this turns of events changed his life forever. Mom & Pop Schultz ran the boys home with love and tight discipline, and it was this combination that straightened dad's course. He became obedient and learned a vocation (drafting), and became quite the ping pong player. I remember dad taking us to visit the home when we were young. Pop Schultz resembled Charles Schulz, the creators of Peanuts, a fact I found curious, especially since their names were so similar. Later on, after we were married, I even took my own wife to meet Mom Schultz (Pop died of cancer in the mid-1960's). They were wonderful people, and we as a family owe them a debt of gratitude. I know my dad loved and respected them deeply.
Mom's upbringing wasn't much better. She was the second-eldest in a family of 6 boys and 2 girls (besides her mother & father). They were very poor and lived in a 3-bedroom shack with an outhouse on Frush Valley Road in Temple, Pennsylvania. It wasn't until I was well into my teens that the outhouse became an inhouse (that's right, a toilet without the ability to flush). It still beats nature's call on a cold, wintry night! I'll never forget that their home was across the street from a plant that made mushroom fertilizer (what a smell!). Pop Pop Noll operated a huge crane for Empire Wrecking Company (I think). I remember that crane being so big it was visible for miles! Nanny worked for 30 years as the head cook at Frymoyer's Hotel (her food was delicious!). Life was a struggle for them, but they made it work.
Although mom says she was daddy's little girl, her relationship with nanny was much different. According to mom, nanny used to routinely kick her around the kitchen floor, sometimes for no apparent reason. She was very strict - brutal if one misbehaved. At first glance one might find this hard to believe (she stood less than 5 feet tall), but to meet her was to know she meant business. I guess when one has a houseful of that many boys one can't afford to be lenient. My grandparents didn't have much by way of formal education, but they knew how to survive. Pop Pop always had the biggest smiles. And hugs. I miss them both very much. I miss my Nanny Tobias as well.
I think this childhood made mom very co-dependent; she needed a husband who made her feel secure and loved. Conversely, dad found it difficult to express the kind of love mom desired. Besides his daytime drafting job at Textile Machine Works (later Rockwell International), dad spent many nights away from home playing in a band. He was a very good guitar player, and music was important to him. He learned to play at a young age, and I think it gave him security and purpose. As a musician myself, I know music is a wonderful escape. It was his guitar playing that first attracted and impressed my mother. Yep, the guitar player always seems to get the girl! Dad didn't mean to make mom feel lonely; he just didn't have much training in the art of husbandtry. Eventually mom decided to become a go-go dancer (she loved to dance), and it's there that she met Irwin "Butch" Wentzel. (I should mentioned that back then go-go girls were a bit more respectable than today.) Butch gave mom the attention she desperately needed. There was a hole in her life and, while I'm sure she never intended to hurt anyone, filling it with Butch led to our family's demise.
Back to the semi-present. I remember the day we left for the first time. Dad had a small table in their bedroom, next to his dresser, where he displayed pictures of the family. I remember standing there looking at these photos, crying my eyes out, thinking how we were leaving while dad was at work and there was nothing he could do about it. I was 8 years old at the time.
We moved into a house on Buttonwood Street in Reading and I started attending Glenside Elementary School. My teacher was Miss Friday and boy was she mean. I remember how she used to incessantly beat this one black boy seated in the back of the class. I sat in the front and decided early on I didn't want to upset Miss Friday! I didn't get much of a chance. One morning I had barely left home when my right side started to ache badly. I turned and almost went back, but decided to keep walking to school. I never finished the day. I went home sick and mom walked me the few blocks to Community General Hospital. The pain made me double over and the walk seemed to take forever. Turns out it was my appendix, which burst on the operating table during subsequent surgery. I was very lucky. Shortly thereafter we moved back with dad on Kerr Road, having only been away for a month. There was hope yet that the family would stay together. Sadly, this reunion lasted less than a year and, halfway through the 4th grade, we moved out for good.
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