Phil’s history - Omaha things I missed posting

I had a file pertaining to my upbringing in Omaha between the first post and the last one. I accidentally deleted it and so this is my attempt to re-create it. As I mentioned before we had a very good upbringing in Omaha. A loving mother and father, sister and many friends our age. There were numerous things I failed to mention because of the deletion of my file that I thought I posted on my blog.

As I mentioned before I don't remember very many bad things from that time. There are a few but they seem so inconsequential now. Dogs I was afraid of, getting yelled at by some teenagers when we were at the creek, and one in particular that stays with me even now. I was probably eight or nine and my dad bought me a BB gun. He hunted pheasants a lot and I got to go along sometimes. The BB gun was not very powerful. You could actually see the BB leaving the barrel. It had a lever action and you could only cock it once so you couldn't build up the force like you could with a pellet gun. It had a strange way of adding BBs. You had to unscrew the end and then slide this little tab against the spring and then add the BBs to that assembly, one at a time. It held about 50. Then one time when I was screwing the end back in I hit the trigger and shot my finger point-blank. It hurt but it barely broke the skin. From that I concluded this kind had very little force and was just good for plinking at stuff. I also mention the mulberry tree earlier. In this same field, quite a ways away, was a very large oak tree. It was so big and thick that there was nothing that grew underneath and it was an open area.

One day I felt very adventurous and hiked up to the big tree by myself. We thought it was so far away that we consider this a huge endeavor. When I came to the clearing under the tree I saw a robin hopping around picking at the ground. I had shot birds before and they just flew off with no damage. I drew down on this robin and pulled the trigger. I he hit the poor bird right in the eye and the BB went through and killed him. First I couldn't believe it and went up to the bird and tried to help him get up. Then I realized I had killed him. That was about 50 years ago and I still feel bad about that poor Robin. I ended up making him a grave, burying him and having a small funeral for him. I never tried to shoot another bird with my BB gun.

One other thing I had neglected to mention was the birth of my younger brother. My brother, Joe, was born nine years after me. He was born at St. Joseph’s Hospital in Omaha. My sister and I thought for a long time that he was named after the hospital. We wondered if everybody who was born there was named Joseph. My brother Joe was still a baby when my mom passed away. My sister and I did help take care of him but mostly my sister. Since he was a baby at that time I don’t have many stories that include him until later in life. My sister and I love him very much and were very protective of him. I’m sure I will continue this series of my history. To be honest it gets pretty bizarre after my mother passed away But those stories are for another day.