Me, A Normal Person?

I grew up halfway between Indian Head and Normalville, Pennsylvania, so I guess I’m only half normal, but I’ve lived a relatively normal life, one of three children of Carl and Sybil Beck. I was the oldest, then came my brother Ken, and finally my sister Kathy Basinger. My first home was a rental cottage in Mill Run. It was part of the Curtis Rugg farm and across the field from my aunt Violet and Uncle Charles Bottomly.

We moved when my dad, Carl bought a small house along Route 711. It had three rooms, a kitchen, a bedroom, and a living room that surrounded a small U shaped porch. There was half of a basement under the house, containing an old coal furnace, a hot water tank, and a coal bin. The house lacked an inside bathroom. We washed in the kitchen sink and used an outhouse until I was nearly five years old. Mom managed to squeeze a wringer washer and a double galvanized rinse tub. Later Dad ever so slowly expanded the house and basement while we lived there.

Dad’s first job after he married my mom Sybil was a coal miner. Most of the mines in this area were composed of narrow seams of coal that required the miners to work hunched over picking, shoveling, and loading carts.

Dad’s next job was at the Walworth factory in South Greensburg, Pennsylvania where they had a foundry to shape metal into pieces of valves. Once out of the foundry, they were sent to various sections of the factory to be milled, drilled, and assembled into the final product. Walworth made valves of steel and brass. The sizes ranged from thirty-six inch to2.5 inch valves. Each valve was pressure tested no matter whether they were wedge valves or ball and socket.

I worked there for a year after high school, before entering the United States Navy. That’s where I earned the money for my first car. I would love to still have it. It was a 1966 Galaxie 500 XL, burgundy with black vinyl top, black bucket seats, and a T bar shift. The engine had a 390 two barrel that could make the tires smoke. I only did it once or twice, because I was frugal and didn’t want to buy new tires. I sold this sweet vehicle to my brother when I flew off to boot camp. He promptly traded it for a pale yellow mustang. I’m still not sure I’ve forgiven him for that. So, is that normal?