Lloyd Kellam’s Final Words: Daddy’s Punishments
CAPE CHARLES WAVE
January 12, 2014
(EDITOR’S NOTE: The Cape Charles Historical Society has for more than a decade been recording oral histories of the area’s earlier days. In 2002, as one in a series of lectures sponsored by the Cape Charles Library entitled “The Way We Were,” Cape Charles native Lloyd Kellam shared the following account. In 2012, funded by a grant by the Virginia Foundation for the Humanities, the recording, along with 14 others, was transcribed. The Historical Society has now made it available for readers of the Wave. All the transcriptions are also available for reading at the Museum.)
SEVENTH AND FINAL PART
One of the other things, and this is to tell you how my childhood was, didn’t have anything to do with Cape Charles, sort of like what my parents were like. Like I said, I was born in a store and had jobs to do and if I didn’t do certain things on time, Daddy would punish me. Mother would usually punish me and Daddy would talk to me. If things were important, Daddy would start to punish or if I spoke back to him, he would punish me. And if I’d say, “I think Daddy that’s too strong,” whatever he gave me, he doubled.
I can remember one time I was supposed to have gotten the Eastern Shore News from the post office right after school and then I was on my own. Like I told you, once you did your job, then you were on your own. But I stayed too long. And when I got home, I went by the post office and they weren’t there. When I got to the store, I said, “Daddy, the Eastern Shore News wasn’t there.” He said, “I know. I had to hire somebody to go get them.”
“Who’d you hire?” He said, “Herman Etz.” I said, “Gee, Daddy, you take his money out of my money.” “Worse than that,” he said, “I’m going to punish you. You can’t go to the movies, you can’t have your candy, and you can’t leave the house for a week.” And I said, “Daddy . . . ” He said, “Two weeks.” I said, “But Daddy, “Guadalcanal Diaries” is on at the movies.” I never will forget that. He said, “Four weeks.” And then I said, “Can I read the funnies in the newspaper?” He said, “Eight weeks!” And I had that more than one time in my life.
At one time, he started out at a month and he got me up to three months in a hurry. That’s because I had the big bicycle that I told you about with the big basket. George used to run away, my little brother George, used to run away. I’ve often said that if I was going to write a book, the title would be, “My Brother Was an Only Child.” Because Mother always had a soft spot in her heart for George because he was the baby. But George would run away and wouldn’t mind.
This particular time, it was supper time and he wasn’t home. Mother said, “Lloyd, go get him.” And I said, “All right. I’m going to take my bike.” “Fine.” Well, I chased him down Pine Street. I saw him down there, he was down somewhere around Tazewell and Pine. When he saw me coming, he was right out in the middle of the street. As I got closer to him, he started running. I was in that big basket bicycle and I was going after it at a good clip and the little sucker stopped and I ran over him. I had to pick him up and put him in the basket and bring him back. [Read more…]
FRIDAY 1/17: John Schulz Tells Life as a Fighter Pilot in Poetry and Prose
Cape Charles resident John Schulz delivers “Songs From a Distant Cockpit: Poetry, Prose and Slides about Life as a Fighter Pilot” 12:30 p.m. Friday, January 17, at the Science and Philosophy Seminar of the Eastern Shore of Virginia. [Read more…]
