Letter to the editor

It's a generally known fact that as we grow older we tend to have flash backs of our earlier lives. The older we are,the further back we go. I recently had a revelation of an incident that occurred when I was a kid back in the 1930's. I was called 'Little Georgie' in those days. Although my old man was only five feet six. he was known as 'Big George' and I was 'little Georgie'. It was ' Little Georgie' this and 'Little Georgie' that. "Put down that cigarette 'Little Georgie', you're only seven, or 'Little Georgie" what are you doing up in that tree with no clothes on.....and so on. The incident that I reflected upon occurred when I was in fifth grade . The school was putting together a baseball team and I, along with dozens of others, was trying out for the team. I didn't make it. They said I was too small. I wasn't the only one that didn't make the cut, of course, and this prompted me to come up with the idea of forming a team of our own, a losers team, if you will. I even came up with a name for the team, "The Red Caps". There were eight or nine kids involved and enthusiasm ran high. I was designated to purchase the 'caps' once it was established how much they would cost. I went to a local dry goods store where they sold things like baseball caps and was told they would run 25 cents apiece. Within two or three days I had collected the money and set out to make the purchase, but to my dismay, no RED caps were available at the time. I tried other sources, but after about a week, the money I had collected started finding its way to the Good Humor ice cream trucks and the penny candy stores. It wasn't long before all hopes of acquiring 'caps' for the Red Caps baseball team was a forlorn dream. Needless to say, this did not set well with my fellow wannabe baseball players. There was one lad in particular named Joey Delaware, who became more agitated than the rest. His Dad was a small time bookie and leg breaker named Joe, AKA "Bones" Delaware. "Bones" had a reputation of looking askance at deadbeats and other riff raff. Joey told me his father was gonna plant me in several burial sites if I didn't give him back his 25 large ($.25) . The other eight or nine kids were more realistic, but no less outraged. They knew I could never pay them back. We were, after all, in the midst of the Great Depression. Well, eventually it all blew over and Joey's Dad never made a move on me. (It was rumored that he was shot trying to hold up a Speakeasy bar) When my parents heard about this, all hell broke loose. My mom, who was the daughter of a minister said I was gonna be another Al Capone while my Dad wrung his hands and accused me of turning out to be a Republican, which to him was even worse.

I'm glad I don't have these 'flashbacks' too often. I'll bet if I put my mind to it, I'd be able to find those Red baseball caps to-day.....and I wouldn't be surprised if there weren't
plenty of kids to-day who 'couldn't make the cut'. Small kids like "Little Georgie"

George Morin
Auburn, Ga.