By now you’re probably getting a good idea what kind of kid I was at 10 years old.  Looking back now, I see there was a pattern:  lots of interest in many different things, master of none.  I’m still like that today.

Yes, I love photography and running, but if that’s all I did, I’d be quickly bored.  I never liked doing the same thing over and over again – it was the variety that turned me on.  This doesn’t mean I jumped from one thing to another through a typical day, unable to focus.  That’s not the case.   I may have played in the woods for several days, climbing trees and fighting imaginary battles, but soon it was time to move onto something else.  The next day I might focus on drawing.  As another day dawned, it might feature board games, music listening or basketball. You get the idea.  Change it up, keep variety in my life.

Winter lasted forever, but I kept busy.  I’d often go skiing with my Mom, Dad and sister.  I learned to ski at the age of five.  My parents liked it, so we went a lot.  (In those days, most parents did what they wanted to do and didn’t worry as much about what kids wanted, unlike today – just ask Grammy).  Fortunately I liked skiing.  I did okay, but wasn’t confident going down steep trails. I’m still the same way.

In those days you went up a ski hill holding onto a rope which pulled you up the hill.  They called it a “rope tow.”  The tricky part was not holding the rope tight when you first grabbed it at the bottom of the hill. If you did, you’d fall flat on your face onto the cold, wet snow.  I must have done that 10 times when I first started.  Just couldn’t figure it out.  It was embarrassing and stressful because people were waiting in line for their turn.  Finally, I learned to  s-l-o-w-l-y grip the rope and gradually tighten down on it. It got real heavy toward the top when it was time to let go.  Skiing was a lot more work back then; today there are high speed chairlifts and little conveyer belts for kids just starting out.

I went skating at the Lion’s Rink in Somersworth, but was the worst skater in the history of 10 year old Somersworth boys.  Possibly America.   I had weak ankles and they’d always flop over and my feet were sideways most of the time. It was really ankle skating, not ice skating.  I stunk.  The part I liked best was listening to the rock and roll music over the outside loudspeakers and going inside for hot chocolate.

I always enjoyed making snow forts and having snowball fights.  Building tunnels through the snow and having a space inside to call my own was a blast.  I’d do that for hours.

My sister and I would occasionally melt caramel on the stove and pour it over fresh white snow.  The snow instantly hardened the caramel, making it a cold, delightful treat.  Never do that with yellow snow Ben – ha!

Sledding was a big favorite.  My friends and I would link our feet together onto each other’s sleds and make a “snake” that went down the hill by my house, all the way to Kinsman’s.  We were lucky we didn’t get run over on High Street (the Main drag in town) when we occasionally went out that far.   Here’s a photo of me and my sister; I was seven, she was eight. (that’s a play gun, not a real one!)  You can see my sled in the background:

I was never an athlete, but the two sports I liked best were basketball and baseball.  I loved to shoot baskets.  My Dad installed an orange metal rim on a wooden backboard above the garage door.  I’d shoot hoops for hours, often needing to jump over the chain link fence and run down the hill by the big white church before the basketball reached High Street far below.  I wasn’t very good so the ball often bounced off the rim over the fence.

In those days the Boston Celtics were the greatest basketball team of all time. Bill Russell was their center, an incredible defenseman, able to effortlessly block shots.  He had legendary battles against his seven foot rival Wilt Chamberlain (“Wilt the Stilt”) who played for the Philadelphia 76ers.  I watched those games on our black and white TV.

Drawing was a favorite pastime of mine, just like you. I still have some of my sketch books. I took art lessons, learning pastels, pen and ink and oil techniques.

My Mom introduced me to stamp collecting and I did it for several years. I also collected coins, especially buffalo nickels and Indian head pennies. I still have these collections, along with my Mom’s stamp book.

I was never mechanically inclined. One Christmas I got an Erector set which is a box full of metal parts that were connected with screws, washers and bolts. It’s a perfect gift for a kid with a mathematical and engineering mind who imagines something and builds it.  That wasn’t me. I actually tried to connect the holes in the metal parts with string, never understanding the screw, washer, bolt thing.  I was pathetic!

Making models was an exception to the rule. They came with directions (well, so did the Erector set, I just didn’t care about it) and I could figure things out.   My favorites were cars and movie monsters like Frankenstein, Dracula, The Mummy and the Creature from the Black Lagoon.  It was cool getting a box of plastic parts, reading the directions, assembling the model by gluing parts together and then painting it.  Here’s an example of a Phantom of the Opera model I made:

I spent many summer hours playing chess and Stratego, a board game I introduced you to.  Mouse Trap was a favorite, as was Monopoly.  I enjoyed reading comic books, catching bugs in glass jars and swimming in our above-ground pool.  I read Mad magazine; it was weird and funny, an unbeatable combination.  They still publish it.

A cool character called Rat Fink made his debut in 1963.  He was great!  R.F. was a green, depraved-looking creature with bulging, bloodshot eyes, an oversize mouth with yellowed, narrow teeth, and a red T-shirt with yellow “R.F.” on it.  He always drove smoking hot rods.  Years later I learned Rat Fink was created as an anti-hero answer to Mickey Mouse!  I liked to draw Rat Fink and made Rat Fink models.

One of the popular hobbies of the early 60’s was slot car racing.  My Dad built a special table in the basement for my figure eight oval track which fit my 1/32 scale Strombecker cars, similar to the ones seen above.  We set up a lawn and made miniature trees from lichen. The whole set-up was cool and I’d play for hours, often racing against friends.

I always liked going for rides in cars.  We went up North to Berlin, White Lake and Echo Lake for family reunions on my Mom’s side.  Every few years we’d go on long excursions by car to visit my Aunt Fern in states like Indianapolis and New Jersey.  My sister and I played on the floor of the back seat of the car, never wearing seat belts (they hadn’t been invented yet).

The longest ride we ever took was to Florida to visit my Aunt, Uncle and cousins on my Dad’s side.  It was summer and stifling hot… cars didn’t have air conditioning.  I saw a scorpion walk across a driveway and a tarantula crawl up my Aunt’s living room wall.  We never went to Disney World because it didn’t open until 1970 – no such thing!

Several times every summer, we’d pile in the car and drive to Wells Beach in Maine to visit my grandmother, “Memere,” my Dad’s Mom.  She had a cottage there.  Sometimes we’d stay overnight. That’s where I developed my love for the beach and got used to the cold Atlantic.

My favorite vacation was the time we drove to Fort Ticonderoga, the site of many battles during the French & Indian War and Revolutionary War.  I went to see it again a few years ago; it’s the best fort ever, nestled on Lake Champlain on the New York and Vermont state border.  I’d like to take you there someday.

I was terrified of heights and never went on rides like roller coasters or anything that spun around. Bumper cars were about it.  Even when my friends went on these rides (at Canobie Lake Park), I’d stay behind by myself.  I was often sick in the big metal garbage cans, despite my holding back.  Gross, but true. I had a queasy stomach.  I overcame this fear of  rides when I was in my twenties.  I got over my fear of heights in my Fifties.  So never give up Ben!

One thing that never made sense is how I’d get queasy at Canobie Lake Park but didn’t have a problem being around vomit.  In elementary school, the nuns came to get me whenever a kid puked in a classroom, on the staircases or hallways.  I’d get a bucket and mop and clean the mess up.  It stunk, but it never bothered me.  I was “little boy vomit cleaner.”  It was a “free pass” to get out of class for a little while!  This served me well later in life when I was a young Dad.  One time when your Mom was three, she woke us up crying at night.  I rushed up to get her, dressed only in my underwear.  As I brought her downstairs, she vomited all over me.  Not a problem!

My Dad liked movies and took us to a lot of them, including Drive-In movies in the summer and to Boston where I’d see adventure movies like “How the West Was Won” and “The Longest Day” in the widescreen “Cinerama” format.

Some of my favorite shows at your age were The Beverly Hillbillies (a funny show about country “hicks” who became millionaires and moved to California), Bonanza (a western), the Flinstones (the first cartoon to air at night in “prime time”) and Mister Ed, (a talking horse).

My heroes Davy Crockett and Daniel Boone had TV shows about them.  Davy Crockett’s theme song (which opened the show) was “Davy, Davy Crockett, king of the wild frontier!”  Daniel Boone’s was “Daniel Boone was a man, yes a BIG man.”  I had a coonskin cap and a leather fringe jacket.  Sad, but true.

In 1963, John F. Kennedy was President of the United States.  He was the youngest president in our history and the first Catholic.  “JFK” was a special man with a great smile, sense of humor, keen intellect and a vision for making America better – including giving equal rights to “negroes” as African Americans were called then.  I remember watching him on TV, being impressed by his speaking ability and magnetism.  He made everyone feel better.

On November 22 that year, JFK was assassinated in Dallas, Texas.  Our country was in shock.  No one expected someone so special, so young, so inspiring to be murdered in cold blood as his convertible drove through Dealey Plaza.  His funeral was on TV – millions watched around the world – and I was one of them.  I remember lying in bed at night, crying my eyes out.  In my 59 years on earth, the two saddest news events for me were JFK’s assassination and the 9-11 attack on the World Trade Center.

Five years later, JFK’s brother Robert was assassinated when he ran for President.  That was the same year Martin Luther King (MLK) was assassinated.  It was a dark, troubling, confusing time for America, with no answers.

As you learned this year in school, 2013 marked the 50th anniversary of MLK’s famous “I have a dream” speech.  That was August, 1963, one month before I turned 10.  It’s so gratifying seeing the progress we’ve made over half a century.  MLK is now one of our most famous American icons, and with Barack Obama we have our first African American President.  What a transformation.

Here’s a photo I took this year of the Martin Luther King Memorial in Washington, D.C.

Thankfully, you’ll never experience dark days of bigotry.  You’re growing up in a better America, at a time when people are more tolerant, kind and open-minded.  I couldn’t ask for more as my first grandchild begins his second decade.  Believe in yourself Ben, follow your own path, and don’t let the turkeys get you down, no matter what they say or do.  Remember to help others and make a difference along the way.

I hope you write stories for your grandchildren, telling them what makes you tick, including what life was like when you were 10.  Keep the tradition going, you’re already a good writer!