At this point Grandpa’s “Reminiscences of Alfred D Guion” has ended and the rest of this story will be the memories of the children as they were growing up.
BISS: My favorite game was Caddy. You got a stick and put a point on either end. You had a paddle and you hit the pointed end and it made the small stick go up and then you hit it with the paddle. I don’t remember where it was supposed to go or anything. I think it was how far you could hit it but I don’t remember what the exact rules were. My brothers probably could remember, but I can’t, but I enjoyed that Caddy a lot.
DICK: I spent most of my time with Dad. He was full of information and enthusiasm. He’d say, “Want to take a walk? I want to show you something.” After walking a while, he’d say, “Sh-h-h-h, now lie down and crawl forward.’ And we’d see Fox cubs. There was always interesting things in the field in back of the house.
I went to White Plains School for one year. I started at Center School in second grade. In eighth grade, I went to Edison School. I went to Whittier Junior High School for a year, and then went to Bassick High School in Bridgeport.
Nelson Sperling tied a rope to a big Hickory Nut tree on the side driveway, near the steps. We would take off from the steps, swing out in a big circle and come back to land. The neighborhood kids couldn’t do it so well.
One time I rode our pony, Gracie, down the railroad tracks. Heading back to the barn, I lost my footing and one leg got caught, held me as she galloped home. I can still hear Mother saying, “Whoa, whoa!”
We also had a little cart that was pulled by a goat.
At Christmas time, we’d drive down Noble Avenue and look at the Christmas decorations.
We had a circus horse named Goldie, and while she was cropping grass, I would lie down on her back. When I’d had enough I’d slide off her back. I didn’t realize that it might annoy her. The last time I did it, she kicked me.
BISS: I remember Dad always brought his work home with him and had to sit at the desk in the upper hallway. Beyond the staircase there was a space and he had a desk there, and he always worked there. Dick and I would be in bed, we’d be talking and he yelled in to us to keep quiet. So we’d keep quiet … for maybe thirty seconds or a minute, and then start talking again. He’d say, “I told you children to go to sleep, now keep quiet.” So we kept quiet for thirty seconds, a minute maybe, and we’d start talking again. So he’d say, “The next time you talk I’m coming in and spanking you.” So we waited maybe a minute this time, and started talking again. Well, boom, boom, boom, boom. He came in and I was the closest to the door, so he spanked me and spanked me and spanked me, and of course, I was too proud, I wasn’t going to cry. He could spank me until Doomsday and I wasn’t going to cry. I guess his hand got sore after a while, I don’t know, but anyway, he went to Dick. The first time he hit Dick, Dick started wailing, so Dad only gave him a couple of whacks, or something. When Dad walked out of the room I said, “You big baby, what did you cry for?” He said, “But Biss, he stopped spanking me.” I said, “I still wouldn’t cry.”
Tomorrow and Friday, more early childhood memories of Trumbull from recordings I made with five of the six children.