Another great story. We were only 4 siblings and relatively well off (by no means even upper middle class at the time, but comfortable), and I recall my father buying me bikes at age 6 or so (next door neighbor's outgrown 20" wheel Schwinn), age 7 or so (24" wheel JC HIggins), age 11 or so (Hero; this shortly after my father was transferred to Bangalore, at the time a pleasant, rather run down little backwater; age 12 -- had the standard black Hero painted crimson and an AW installed. After that, the bug took me and it was wheel, deal, build, and trade up to the present.
My father was not at all an indulgent parent; quite the contrary: excessively strict (but strictest of all with himself -- for 30-40 years until his very last year or two -- he died just shy of his 82d birthday -- he fasted 3 days a week, ie, didn't eat solid foods 3 days a week. He lived a lively scholarly life, studying and writing regularly despite what became a very, very busy schedule, traveling at least 2 weeks out of 4 for his Library of Congress territory which, at one point, included all of East Africa from Ethiopia down to Mozambique and the dozen or so Indian Ocean islands. Odd, then, how much freedom my brother and I had: basically disappearing into the bush for the day; me, at 14 and 15, hitchhiking back from a friend's house in Thika, hung over of course from our adolescent debauches. Anyway, looking back on it, I am very touched that he was so generous; particularly because he didn't buy any of my siblings bicycles -- he bought my brother one, circa 1967, he age 7 or so, a little 1/2 sized Indian Roadster with 24" wheels that I later cannibalized for a build, but none at all beside that. He would tell me that, as an ex USAAF staff sergeant attending GW University on the GI Bill, he would ride from his hovel of a room (heating cans on the radiator) to school on an "English Racer". Perhaps he sensed my budding passion for bikes. Patrick Moore, over-'n'-out, snuffling sentimentally in ABQ, NM. On Wed, Dec 18, 2013 at 9:56 AM, Montclair BobbyB <montclairbob...@gmail.com > wrote: > Great story... I remember when I was 9 years old (Sept 1967), and wanting > a bicycle. Having 10 kids, my Dad (also a Depression-era kid and vet) > couldn't afford to buy us all bikes (let alone new ones), so we typically > had to save up our own money to buy our own used bikes. We went to the > local family-run Schwinn shop, Reidinger's in Upper Montclair, NJ to look > at (traded-in) used bikes. I saw a beautiful 1963 red Schwinn Typhoon with > matching fenders, fat tires and white rims with black pinstriping...a > single speed coaster klunker. The price was $18, but I only had $9 (my > entire life savings at the time). My dad gave me the additional $9 that I > needed... That bike meant more to me than any other bike I have ever owned. > > -- You received this message because you are subscribed to the Google Groups "RBW Owners Bunch" group. To unsubscribe from this group and stop receiving emails from it, send an email to rbw-owners-bunch+unsubscr...@googlegroups.com. To post to this group, send email to rbw-owners-bunch@googlegroups.com. Visit this group at http://groups.google.com/group/rbw-owners-bunch. For more options, visit https://groups.google.com/groups/opt_out.
