No recollection of my youth would be incomplete without a discussion of the Broome family, which lived across West Wesley from us. Stockton Broome, Sr. was a successful bond broker. Their home is still occupied by Stockton Broome, Jr. 84 years after we moved in in 1934. The original Broome family included Mrs. Broome (), Stocky, Jr., a year younger than me), Betsy, 2 years younger than Stocky and Bobby several years younger than Betsy. Mr. Broome fueled his bond business with bourbon, at least a fifth a day. Amazing how well he could operate!
He came over to our house one evening looking for a drink. My father offered him Scotch. No way. He went on.
Stocky’s flat front yard was the playing field for our neighborhood. Their magnolia tree by the driveway was our climbing gym. I fell one day in that tree but fortunately was caught by lower branches.
From time to time we would enjoy quince battles across West Wesley Road. Charles and i threw the quinces over at Stocky and he threw them back, with more accuracy I am afraid. One knows it when a hard quince hits anywhere on the body.
But most often, our relations were most friendly. One morning, Charles and I were wakened by a noise at the window. Stocky was climbing in! Our room was on the 2nd floor so Stocky had to skinny up the steel pole which held up the corner of the kitchen porch outdoor roof, climb over the gutter, onto the roof, across a slate-roofed overhang and on to the roof of our eating porch. From there he could crawl into our window.
One day we got busted by parents for riding our bikes down Mrs. Hickey’s driveway across Vernon road and into our drive. A neighbor fortunately reported our antic.
The saddest day of my youth was when Bobby Broome died, We never knew exactly what happened but it seemed that Bobby had tightened a belt around his neck and passed out before he knew what was happening. His mother found him.
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