Early Years Through Grade School

This will probably be a short story.

We were living in Norman Okla at the time.

I don’t remember my first day at school, but my mom enrolled me as Mike Claus.  My middle name was Michael and all the family called me Mike so that’s how I started school, and continued all the way thru high school in Victoria Texas.

In the Paper

I do remember my first interview with a print reporter.  I think Wanda was either visiting with us at the time, or had moved back home for a bit. I think she worked as a telephone operator. You probably don’t remember, but back before even rotary dial phones, you could pick up the phone, and an operator would come on line and ask “Number Please”. You could either give them the number, or just say I want to speak to Dr. Smith, and the operator would patch through the call.

Anyway, Wanda was there for the interview. I know I probably saw the article in the paper, but I don’t remember reading it. If I remember correctly, I mostly just played with some toys while the interview was done. Wanda and my mom answered most of the reporters’ questions.

The Company House

While we lived in Norman, my dad got a promotion and with the new job came a house. It belonged to the oil company my dad worked for. I think it was Brown & Root. We lived in that house for a few years.

One time my dad was in the hospital for some reason. I was at school during the day, naturally, and somehow, I missed the bus home. I had to get the school office to call home and get mom to come get me. She had been at the hospital with my dad, and was very angry with me. She expressed her anger with a belt. It was the first and worst, and last time I got whipped with a belt. I think by the time she finished whipping me, she was as upset as I was. I had gotten spanked before, but it never involved a belt. I never missed the bus home after that. Lesson learned.

Another event happened at the “company house”. We had a kitchen set. A table and 4 chairs. It was chrome with yellow plastic / vinyl material covering the backs and the seats of the chairs. One day I got off the bus and there were fire trucks in the driveway. I walked around back and found mom and dad there talking to the firemen.

The story as I understood it went like this. One of the oilfield roustabouts was mowing the yard. He hit a rock with the mower blade and it hit the pressure valve on the butane tank in the back yard. The pressure valve ruptured and all the pressure from the butane tank was sent into the house to the control valve of the stove in the kitchen. The overload of pressure blew the control valve knob across the kitchen, and it embedded in the wall. Momma had been ironing clothes in the kitchen directly in front of the stove. She left the kitchen to take some clothes into the bedroom when the explosion and fire happened. If she had still been standing in front of the stove ironing, she would have been killed by either the knob or the explosion and resulting fire. When we were able to go into the house again, I remember looking at the plastic from the chairs of the kitchen set. It looked like melted cheese from a grilled cheese sandwich. I never liked grilled cheese as much after that.