I never saw the police but I do know there was a lot of yelling and we never saw that dirty old man again!

At one point in my early childhood we lived in a run down hotel that I am sure at one point was beautiful.  There was a crystal chandelier, worn oriental carpets and elegant double staircases that led to a second floor balcony; the banisters were made of iron with intricate detail.  It was hard to imagine, as a seven year old child, that this place we were going to live was ever anything other than a dark, gloomy, grime laden, urine soaked hole that it was.  The first room we had was a one room apartment that barely squeezed in a fold out bed that my little sister and I slept in, an old reclining chair that my dad slept in, a TV stand with a TV on it and a small dresser for what little clothes we had; the communal toilet was down the hall.  I am not sure what we did for baths, I don't remember; maybe this a defense mechanism because remembering would be too hard.  For meals we would eat a lot of boxed cereal or canned food and sometimes we got to go around the corner and feast at a little dinner or have hamburgers at the bar my dad like to frequent.  Let me take a moment and say that my father was well liked; everyone knew him and always had a hearty "hello Bob" greeting.  When he had his toe-headed girls with him everyone would come over and offer free treats to us and drinks for my dad. My little sister and I lived in that room with my father; I am not sure where my mother was, she had a habit of running off to Sacramento to her mom or perhaps she was in a nursing home though I don't think that happens until I am older.  My sister and I had the lobby to play in or if my dad were up to it he would take us to the park caddy-corner from the hotel.  I preferred the park for more than obvious reasons; on the balcony sat a group of stinky old men one of them liked to have his hands down his pants and sometimes flash my sister and I threatening don't tell anyone.  I don't remember my parents telling me this was wrong but inherently I knew. My little sister and I finally told on him and caused a very big shake-up.  I never saw the police but I do know there was a lot of yelling and we never saw that dirty old man again.  A couple of good memories from that period in time; my father let me stay up to watch the Miss America Pageant and we bet on who would win, I picked the winner! The park was a haven of sorts, I loved the nature we saw there, pigeons, squirrels and the occasional stray cat or dog; one time a baby pigeon followed us home, I wanted to keep it and hoped it would hang around but it was gone the next day.  (to be continued)