We moved to Colton, California in 1921, first living on East "H" Street. Our second home was the one on East "I" Street. From there we moved to 133 East "B" Street, about two houses east of Eighth Street. Eighth Street was the main North-South street of Colton. It was later renamed "La Cadena". I remember we had a large pepper tree in the parkway in front of the house. The Fouches lived next door on the corner of Eighth & "B" Streets. The younger boy, "Snook", was just a bit older than me and we played together. A few doors to the east of us lived the Miller family. They were Mormons and we all thought they were kind of strange. That was about all I knew about the Mormons at that time. Their boy, Woodrow, was kind of a quiet little fellow, but he grew up to become the owner of the Miller Honey Company. Later he was our Bishop in the Colton Ward. I remember our house was a two-story with an attic. I used to go up in the attic and sit inside the circular track of our Lionel Electric Train and run the train around me to protect me from whatever I might consider would scare me from the dark corners of the attic. Uncle Arthur, Mother's brother, lived in Sterling, Colorado. He was a cattle rancher, as well as being the president of two or three banks, and a millionaire. He and his wife, Martha and their two girls, Nancy and Barbara, came to visit us one time while we were living on "B" Street in Colton. He drove up in a Duesenberg and I was so excited I ran out to meet them and got too close to the car and when Uncle Arthur stopped the car he stopped it with a tire on my bare foot. The roads were not paved so it really didn't hurt much. Every time Uncle Arthur would visit us he would give each of us children a silver dollar. That was a lot of money at the time. From East "B" Street we moved to 243 West "C" Street. While we were living there I can remember two things. Bob and I made an earthen oven in the back yard and we used to bake potatoes and other things in it. Also, Mother used to make homemade candy, penuche (or panoche) and fudge, and she would put about six pieces each in little brown paper sacks and Bob and Betty and I would sell it to the neighbors at ten cents a sack. We got to keep the money and I don't think Mother got anything for her trouble. It didn't last long as I recall but I think Mother thought she was teaching us something of the value of work and of money. Later she did make us pay for the ingredients out of our profits. From West "C" Street we moved to 595 West "I" Street which was right across the street from the Roosevelt Junior High School. Across the street was Gilbert's store and gasoline station. Maires lived next door. They had a huge fig tree which we liked to climb, as well as to eat figs. Jack Maires worked for the Pacific Fruit Express in Colton and later on, with Dad's help, got me a job there. There was an old man who lived in the neighborhood who had a small dog. He and the dog used to walk down to Gilbert's store each day and he would buy two ice cream cones - one for the dog and one for himself. It was a ritual we watched all the time we lived there. Bob and I had become quite proficient at shooting arrows. We made the arrows out of roofing shingles and used a short stick with a looped string at one end. We notched the arrows and held them in the string and shot them with a quick forward movement of the stick. One day we decided to play William Tell. Bob put an apple on my head and fired an arrow. It hit me squarely in the middle of the forehead. I fell down on my back. Bob called Mother and she came out to see me with an arrow sticking out of my forehead and blood all over my face. Actually, it was just a superficial wound but I carried the small indented scar in my forehead for many years. We had not considered that the arrow might just as well have struck me in an eye. I did a lot of rope jumping at the time and one day I decided to jump 595 times without stopping. That was our house number. I did it and considered that I had set a record and never tried to break it. I learned to drive a car when I was twelve years old. When we lived at 595 West "I" Street, Mother and I would take Dad to work at the Cement Plant and I would get to drive home. Our family visited Gay's Lion Farm in Los Angeles and Bob and I had our pictures taken with each of us holding a lion cub. I used to walk in my sleep and one night Bob came to bed late to find me in bed with my feet quite dirty. We slept in the same bed so he told me to go wash my feet. From his account, I got up, went into the bathroom and began drawing some water in the tub. Some time later he became concerned about what I was doing and he could still hear the water running. He came into the bathroom and found me sitting in tub, half filled with cold water, and still filling, and I was still asleep. He got me out of the tub and dried me off and back into bed. The next morning I could recall none of it. It was while we were living here that it became fashionable for women to "bob" their hair. Mother had worn her hair long for as long as I could remember. She would let it down at night and comb it but in the morning she always put it up again, winding it in a roll around the top of her head. It was quite a "daring" thing to do - cut your hair - and Mother seemed to want to but she was concerned with what we children, as well as Dad and others, would think so she asked us about it. We all agreed that it would be okay and she did. By this time, Bob was in High School and Betty and I both got the measles. Bob was so interested in maintaining his schoolwork that he moved out and lived with a neighbor while we were quarantined. I remember one time there was a contest in Colton and the winner would receive a new bicycle. Mainly it consisted of gathering coupons, which appeared in the newspaper, the Colton Courier, and other places. Bob really wanted a bicycle and he set about to win it. He found out some way there was to be a major event put on at the High School one night and there would be a coupon in each program. Bob and I went to it and gathered all the discarded programs after the show, as well as asking those leaving the event if we could have theirs. Bob won the contest hands down. Some friends of ours went on vacation one year and left their dog, Mike, with us to care for while they were gone. When they came home, in about two or three weeks, Mike would not stay with them anymore but continued to come to our house. They finally decided to give the dog to us. He was a mongrel, part terrier and who knows what else. He was a great dog for us kids and smart but he used to irritate Mother no end. Whenever she would start to go somewhere in the car, Mike would get right in front of the car and make circles to keep her from leaving. Mother would get so mad she would even try to run him down but he was always able to get out of the way. The next move was to 780 West "I" Street, across the street from the High School. One summer I was sleeping in a tent in the backyard. We had a female German Shepherd named "Patsy" who had a liter of ten puppies on my bed in the tent one night. What a surprise to wake up to. All of us surmised that Mike was the father. Dad took five of the scrawniest pups and put them in a gunny sack and drowned them. I watched him do it and I didn't like it. Dad didn't either but it seemed to him the best thing to do. He didn't think Patsy could rear all ten of them. When we moved the next time, to 1159 North 8th Street, which was clear across town, Mother said we would leave Mike behind and he could fare for himself. Mike knew just about every place we went and he would go downtown to the grocery store and wait for us there. Mother would leave the store and take a different route home each time and eventually lose Mike in the process. Every now and then we would see Mike working his way up our street from downtown. He would be checking every house for us. This kept up for some time but one night as we all sat down to dinner there came a knock on the door. Mother went to the door and there was Mike. She didn't have the heart to turn him away again and we kept him for many years. One day he came home with a bullet wound where the bullet had passed clear through his midsection. There was no way he could live and Dad put him under a tub in the back yard with a cloth soaked in chloroform and sealed the rim with dirt. The next day we buried him in the backyard. We lived next door to the Lewis family. Fred Lewis was in real estate and other enterprises. His son Oscar, "Oc", was Bob's age. The day that King Edward abdicated his crown in favor of marrying Wally Simpson, Dad and I went over to Lewis's and sat up all night listening to the short wave radio to hear his abdication speech. Betty and I both had the Mumps while living there. Then we moved over to 1301 North Ninth Street. There was an old lady, Mrs. Weatherby, who lived across the street and used to make cookies for the kids in the neighborhood and I always got my share. Albert "Bino" Floyd had a red Chevy coupe which we rode around in together most of the summers. When we needed gasoline we went down to the park at night and while most people were enjoying the softball game at the diamond, we siphoned gas out of a car or two to keep the Chevy supplied. One time, in broad daylight, we spotted an onyx gear shift knob on a car parked at the plunge and I decided we should have it for the Chevy. I was sitting in the car twisting off the knob when some guy came running and yelling at me. I got out of the car, with the knob in my hand and we jumped in the Chevy and took off. I was scared so I threw the knob out of the car. Some time later Bino drove me home and when I walked into the house the first thing Dad said to me was: "What did you do with that gear shift knob?" I said: "What gear shift knob?" We were in the kitchen and Dad slapped me across the face and knocked me clear across the room. What had happened was that the man who owned the car that I took the knob out of had asked a policeman if he knew who owned a red Chevy. The policeman said he didn't know but he knew that one was often parked at 1301 North 9th Street. When the man found out that we were just kids he didn't press any charges and let it drop. But that was the last time I ever stole anything, and I was in the doghouse for a long time afterwards. A few years later we moved about a half block down the street to 1167 North Ninth Street. There we lived next to the Thornberry's. Frank was my age and in my class at school. He was our class president in our senior year. Bobbie was about three years younger. Frank took piano lessons for six or seven years and became a fine piano player. Lowell Maltzberger lived directly across the street from us and we were all good friends. We had what we called the Ninth Street Gang. Not that we ever did anything special or got into any trouble, but we considered that part of Ninth Street our street. Lowell and I became interested in learning how to dance and we went up to Lois and Eunice Olsen's home and got them to dance with us and to teach us a few steps. Lowell got very embarrassed dancing with the girls but we did manage to learn a little about dancing. Lowell and I used to spell people's names backwards and pronounce them the same way. Bert Doty was "Treb Ytod". I saw Bert at our 50th Class Reunion and the first thing he did was come up to me and say: "Remember me? I'm Treb Ytod." Lowell's brother, Gordon, was our star baseball player in High School and later was a relief pitcher in the major leagues. I was doing a lot of wrestling those days. Just with the kids in the neighborhood, nothing formal. I thought I was pretty good and I guess I had bragged about it. Dad got on me for it and I told him I would wrestle him anytime. He had a few drinks under his belt and so we wrestled. I took him down and put an arm lock on him and made him say "Uncle". I have always regretted doing it as I don't think a son should do such a thing to his Father. I was young then and didn't realize until after I had done it that I shouldn't have. Mother and Dad had their bedroom downstairs and all of us kids slept in bedrooms upstairs. One night I got up to go to the bathroom and when I came out and headed back to bed the lights came on and there was Dad, standing in his nightshirt with his Colt 44 revolver pointed directly at me. He thought there were burglars in the house. With a sheepish grin he lowered the gun to his side, I got in bed and Dad went back down stairs. Dad always slept with the Colt 44 under his pillow. I think it stemmed from the days we were robbed so often on East "I" Street. On occasion I would sneak the gun out of the house and take it out into the fields away from everything and shoot it. It had quite a kick and it was a lot of fun. Then I would have to take it home again and clean it up before I put it back under Dad's pillow. In 1961 Bob wrote to the Colt's Patent FireArms Manufacturing Company and asked them for some historical data on Dad's gun. The following came back: "Calibre - .44, Barrel length - 7 1/2", Finish - Blue, Sold and shipped to: Tufts Lyon Arms Co., Los Angeles, Calif. on Sept. 30, 1907." Harlan Gough, "Harp", lived in Grand Terrace, a few miles south of Colton, and entered CUHS the same time I did and we became very good friends. A few years before, Dad had an old Ford car rebuilt with a special body on it for Bob. It was a two seater with a tail that looked like a bug's. It was painted silver and always attracted attention whenever Bob took it anywhere. I believe he, along with his friend, Ted Maxwell, drove it up to Stanford and back before Bob finally entered school there. After Bob went away to Stanford the car sat in our backyard. Harp, who knew more about cars than I did, decided we should get it running. We took the battery out of my folks car and put it in the bug and gave it a crank and, behold, it started. We put water in it and drove off for a ride. We stopped and put a gallon of gas in it and went on a fine ride. The radiator leaked, along with the hoses but we kept filling the radiator and finally made it back home. Mother was mad because she couldn't use her car and when Dad got home he really chastised me for driving the car when it was in such poor shape and the radiator leaking. Nevertheless, we finally got the car in running shape and took it out to Harp's home in Grand Terrace which was even more rural than Colton. There we could drive it without a license on it. I didn't have a driver's license either. I was about sixteen but Dad hadn't agreed to let me get one yet. One day Harp and I took it out and as we approached a main road in Grand Terrace I stopped the car and Harp ran down to the intersection to check if it was all clear. He motioned me on and got in the car. As I turned onto the main road a motorcycle cop came by and looking over at the car saw that there was no license on it. He pulled us over and found out that I didn't have a driver's license either. I got a ticket and as a result had to appear before the local Justice of the Peace. He was a real mean looking old guy, but not really as bad as he appeared to me. Dad had to take me over to see him twice and both times he lectured to me and gave me a good education in obeying the law, etc. Finally he turned to Dad and said: "Get this boy a license so he can drive legally." Harp and I used to double date when we were Sophomores. He went steady with Selma Allred and I with Jacqueline Sapp. Jackie lived in Quartzite, Arizona but came into Colton and lived with an aunt to go to school. Our next house move was to 835 Pennsylvania Avenue. I didn't spend much time there as I was off to Stanford. We also lived in a house at 1215 North 8th Street for a short while but I do not remember the sequence it was in with all our moves. Finally Dad and Mother bought a home of their own at 1248 Jefferson Place, San Bernardino. We had always rented the previous houses. Betty says that basically Dad never had enough cash to put down on a home until 1937 or 1938 when he got an extra month's pay as a bonus and then Mother really prodded him and she found the Jefferson home. One time I asked Dad why he waited so long to buy a house of his own and his story was: "One time the Quarry Foreman at the Cement Plant bought a home and when the "powers that be" of the plant found out about it they cut his salary as they knew he wouldn't be going anywhere". As a result, Dad proceeded cautiously until he decided the era of that kind of treatment was over.