Wednesday, August 24, 2011

A Maintenance Man with a Secret


The maintenance man at St. John's School was Mr. Hines.
A stocky and gentle soul, Mr. Hines did all there was to do to keep SJS running smooth.
He spent most of his time in the Boiler Room.
The Boiler Room...I always thought that it had a strange ring to it.
I always imagined it sounds like something from Hogan's Heros. Y'know when Col.Klink would yell at Hogan..."HOGAAN...To the COOLER!", "HOGAAN, To the BOILER ROOM!"

Anyway, Mr. Hines had a missing thumb which led to much speculation.
I'll let the comic take it from here.

Sunday, August 21, 2011

Taping Eggs & Measuring Socks



My grandfather Edward August Weber is what some people would call "an odd bird."
He taped his cracked eggs, would measure his socks after each washing and store his gum
on his ear lobe among other strange little habits.
There will be many more stories featuring him in future posts.
In the meantime, enjoy the strip.

Tuesday, August 16, 2011

The Captain & Doll...Oh Those Fights!


There was a little one bedroom apartment in the back of the house next door
which various people rented throughout the 60s and 70s.
One couple who we referred to as The Captain and Doll lived there in what I would guess
to be around the mid 60s.
They would have these huge fights. I mean HUGE! Chairs and tables would actually fly
through the back screen door out into the backyard. Pots, pans, dishes, beer cans...you name it and it was thrown.
Doll always seemed to have a black eye. They both smoke and drank like hell.
But, who the hell didn't in the 60s and 70s?!

The Captain got his name from the tattoo he had on his arm and Doll got her name
because that's all we ever heard the Captain call her.
The next day after one of their infamous fights, they would be seen sitting in the backyard, laughing, kissing, smoking their cigarettes and tossing back beers.
It was a match made in heaven.

Saturday, August 13, 2011

Rock Fights



When boredom would set in us kids always found some entertaining activity to amuse ourselves...pitching pennies, hide and seek, dodge ball and racing our bikes around the block were among the most common. One of the "not so common" activities was the dreaded
Rock Fight!
This activity could be started in a number of ways, from an aggressive shove, to an over the top insult. However, a good solid punch to the stomach accompanied by an over the top insult with the insult aimed at a close family member, was a sure fire way to start a Rock Fight.

Actually, the words "Rock Fight!" would be used to officially start this uh...game?!
It always involved a good number of people who would split up into teams.
Philip Brown's garage was a strategic base as were the bushes running along my backyard.
The bushes were unruly and although it was the home of many a spider, a spider is the least of your worries when a rock is being flung at you from 15 feet away.

Ammunition consisted of whatever rock you would happen to pick up, the most common being
your "standard rock." A "slicer" was a curved rock which did just that, curve in the air. When thrown just right it was a beautiful thing to observe but mastering it to achieve it's goal ( hitting someone ) was not an easy task and took much time and practice. The rock which we all both revered and feared was the infamous "coal rock."

It might even had been coal but being young and fairly stupid (hey, we are throwing rock at each other!) we called it a coal rock. This rock was gnarly and heavy and could cause considerable damage if thrown from a short distance.
Rock fights could go on for hours and usually ended when someone really took a solid hit and went home crying or when an adult would catch wind of it and come running.
A broken window as a result of a wild throw was also an abrupt way to end this fun activity.
Ahhh, the games of Summer. No wonder I hated Geology.

Wednesday, August 10, 2011

Introduction - 506 E. 24th


I was born on December 21, 1958 the fourth child of Bernadette and Harlan Weber.
My mother was known to everyone as Neddy, and my dad...well he was stuck with Harlan.
He hated his name.
My sister Cathy was the oldest followed by my brother Eddie, my sister Betsy, then me.
Our grandfather Edward August Weber lived downstairs and we lived upstairs in a modest
house located on East 24th Street between Wallace and Ash Streets it's address being 506 E. 24th St.

We were a lower middle class family and like any family, we had our share of ups and downs.
The one thing I remember above all from those days on 24th Street was that we laughed a lot. There never seemed to be a dull moment. Between the antics of various neighbors and our own family, we always found something to laugh about. There are a ton of stories from those days and I will do my best to try and convey them in an entertaining fashion with words and drawings.

I cannot even attempt to post these in any type of chronological order, but will simply write and illustrate these stories as they pop into my head.
I hope you will check in often, become a follower, share with friends and enjoy the ride.



Mark Weber



Wednesday, August 3, 2011

Welcome!


24th Street Stories is a blog devoted entirely to memories of my childhood
growing up on the east side of Erie, PA.
Set primarily in the 60s and 70s, you will find these stories to be comical, bittersweet and even tragic.
They are all true.

Mark Weber
August 2011