We played in the city side streets. Almost all of my gang got at least bumped by cars.
Dad brought home some mercury. It was fun to roll it around in our hands.
The reward for raking fall leaves was burning them at the curb.
Indeed!
When I was a youngster there was an old man who lived down our block, and in his garage he had a huge glass jar of mercury. I’m guessing like a two gallon jar, or rather a heavy glass jug (green glass). My Dad said the guy was a doctor or something who worked with polio kids when my Dad was a youngster, and that was the explanation for his weirdness (he was an odd old man). Not that the explanation made any sense, but we just accepted it. He was a weird old doctor who worked with polio kids in the 20’s... end of story.
Anyways, he would have fun with us kids, and if he was out and puttering around the garage / alley, he might test your strength and see if you could touch the bottom of this jug of mercury. He would say there was a pirate coin at the bottom. It was impossible for a grade-school kid of course. Not that it burned, it was just so much pressure on your hand, it was like pushing through a jug of sand or something, the pressure was immense because of the density.
The crazy old doc could also ride his bicycle backwards up and down the alley (like I said he was a very old man), just a strange fellow. I don’t even think anyone thought about mercury poisoning, I know us kids didn’t, I’m not even sure adults knew the risk of it back then.
It’s funny, as I get older, I tend to forget things people say or things I’m supposed to do on a day to day basis, or from a month or year ago, but things from growing up and being a kid are clear as day to me.
Fascinating how that part of the brain works.
I still miss that smell of autumn, and the smell of distant cigar smoke at a November football game.