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We made it! by Dan Wiessner

December 9, 2012

I cant believe we made itLassie, “Timmy fell down the well!”  Well not really, but this stuff my brother Dan writes about was real.  Wow!  What a walk down memory lane.  Awesome stuff Dan.  I’m sorry about dragging you into the Sheriff Robert’s stuff but it sucked when I got your catsup and baloney sandwich.  Plus you, Dan Weber and the Kozuls enjoyed holding me down (and it took all of you) to give me a “pink belly.”  Otherwise you were a good big brother, like when the Barz brothers came after me, we put up a good front and then we ran like hell.  We did make it didn’t we?  We did stick together.  I’m proud as hell you’re my big brother.

Dan’s reminiscent so:

There was the occasional (frequent) fist fights (that usually turned into wrestling), or the monkey ball and dirt clod fights.   There were the childhood friends, the Kozuls, Dan Weber, the Barz boys, Steve Butler, Dale Brown and Greg Palumbo (Greg was amazing, suffered from polio and could do more on one good leg than most on two).

There was dressing in black on Halloween and causing quite a bit of trouble.  Dad actually chipped in here.  It was almost like he was reliving his youth.  He took spools of thread and notched them.  He added a portion of a hanger which he had cut and driven into the middle of the spool.  He then anchored a length of string, long enough to pull against a window when the spool was placed against a window.  It was quite the Halloween “trick or treat.”  We were only instructed to use the “trick” when the “treat” fell short of desirable.

Then there was the Little League team, the Pirates (we were SO bad but Dad was the Manager).  We were like the movie, The Bad News Bears, because we were younger than the rest of the boys in the league without any experience.  It was hilarious!  Dad would often umpire behind the plate.  You think you would catch a break.  No.  We would stand there and the ball would go whizzing by and all we heard was STRIKE!  Hitting a foul ball was a huge victory.  I remember standing out in left field, seeing the batter hit the ball, pounding my glove, everyone screaming and the ball landing near my feet, creating a crater the size of one on the moon.  Until it hit the ground, covering my spikes with dirt and making a sucking noise I had no idea the ball was coming my way.

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