During our brief two years in Kansas City, my mother (Lou) and father (A.B.) made friends with another couple. I suppose that either the husband or the wife worked with my Dad. I never knew their names. They lived on the other side of town. I was too young to recall what side of Kansas City, Missouri we lived on and what side they lived on, my memory can only recall that the drive to their house took a while, at least 30 minutes, or so it seemed. Matters like time are hard to judge when you’re too young to count time.
Based on my size I’m thinking the incident I’m about to speak of took place when I was about 3 1/2 to 4 and Pam was about 18 months. It was a hot summer day, and the people we were visiting decided we should sit outside. Pam and I became quickly bored and the other couple did not have children. Our parents and the other couple were sitting on a large concrete slab outside the front door of the other couple’s house or apartment. The slab was essentially a front porch with a small roof over it.
Pam and I became bored and restless so to keep us occupied and easy to babysit, the other couple suggested they get us a cardboard box to play in. Pam and I were both small and easily fit into a box that was no more than 14 to 15 inches talk, about 18 inches wide and 24 inches long. I don’t recall Mom and Dad bringing any toys for us to play with, but the couple had given us something to play with and keep us busy in the box. My memory is hazy on whether we were playing with marbles, a yo-yo or a top, but it was something simple like that.
As I noted heretofore, it was a hot summer day. So the wife of the couple we were visiting decided to make ice tea for everyone. The cardboard box were playing in was in the center of the sidewalk that led from the street to their porch. The lady brought Pam and I ice tea in regular adult size drinking glasses, too large for either one of us, but especially for Pam. After she placed the glasses of ice tea in the box with us, she turned and went back to the porch to continue talking to Mom and Dad.
At some point I decided the glasses of ice tea were in our way. We already had little extra room in the box for us to play in, as our bodies occupied most of the box. So I decided to place the glasses outside the box and sit them on the concrete sidewalk. In my haste I firmly planted my half-filled glass of tea onto the sidewalk, bursting the drinking glass into pieces, with one very sharp shard of glass cutting a big flap of skin and flesh out of the upper right palm of my hand, right at the base of my right forefinger.
Blood was going everywhere, the glass still stuck in my hand when I raised my little hand in pain. Being only 4 years old at best, the accident scared the bejesus out of me. I raised my hand to see blood gushing and spurting from the wound, the glass still stuck in my hand and I started screaming bloody murder, crying at the top of my lungs. All four of the adults sprung into action and rushed to my aid.
Dad immediately pulled the glass out of my wound, the lady that gave me the tea rushed into her house and came out with a wet white washcloth to cover the wound and try to stop the bleeding.
I cried for what seemed like hours but I’m sure it probably was no more than 20 minutes. There was a debate on whether or not I needed stitches and should go to the emergency room. I don’t recall us seeking medical attention. I do recall Mom cleaning the wound with hydrogen peroxide when we got home, putting some Mercurochrome on the wound, some gauze and tape and telling me I was going to be as good as new.
It took a very long time for the wound to heal. Eventually it did but it left me with a half-moon scar on my hand that I’ve had throughout my life. Looking back, I suppose it was on that day that I started developing a reputation for being a little clumsy, doing things subconsciously while I’ve got my mind on something else. That little habit and flaw in my persona ended up marking me for life.