"Every boy wants a Remco toy!"
Such was the 1959 slogan for the Remco Movieland Drive-In Theater commercial (it's on youtube with Patty Duke playing the girl who also wants a Remco toy for Christmas).
The photo above was apparently taken on Christmas morning 1959. We had spent that fall living with Willene and her two children in one three-bedroom house of a duplex across the street from the triplex dad was having built for this extended/blended family after they were married in early 1960, after dad's and mom's divorce was final.
We had liked Willene and her kids, given that we'd visited them in their Tustin home many times while she and dad were dating. She'd given us no reason to anticipate a different personality other than the one she'd projected for more than a year. We were wrong.
In that photo, in the lower right, is a box that contained a car-carrying truck made of rubber/plastic, with three cars stacked on the trailer. Unfortunately, the cars would only stay in place using three rubber bands, one for each car. At some point, Freddie took those three rubber bands because his Christmas present had been plastic figures that were now gathered together using three new rubber bands, exactly the same three rubber bands I was now missing and needed.
Such was the 1959 slogan for the Remco Movieland Drive-In Theater commercial (it's on youtube with Patty Duke playing the girl who also wants a Remco toy for Christmas).
The photo above was apparently taken on Christmas morning 1959. We had spent that fall living with Willene and her two children in one three-bedroom house of a duplex across the street from the triplex dad was having built for this extended/blended family after they were married in early 1960, after dad's and mom's divorce was final.
We had liked Willene and her kids, given that we'd visited them in their Tustin home many times while she and dad were dating. She'd given us no reason to anticipate a different personality other than the one she'd projected for more than a year. We were wrong.
In that photo, in the lower right, is a box that contained a car-carrying truck made of rubber/plastic, with three cars stacked on the trailer. Unfortunately, the cars would only stay in place using three rubber bands, one for each car. At some point, Freddie took those three rubber bands because his Christmas present had been plastic figures that were now gathered together using three new rubber bands, exactly the same three rubber bands I was now missing and needed.
I was indignant and loudly complained when I realized what had happened. (We apparently didn't have any more rubber bands, so he was either going to have to fess up to having taken them and give them back, or one of us was going to have to do without.) Something else then happened that startled and angered me and was a precursor to what would transpire for the next three and a half years. We would have to put up with this response, living under Willene's cruel thumb, along with barely tolerating the thieving nature of a step-brother who had no conscience.
Willene, also now indignant that I was accusing her precious son of theft, walked over to me and whacked me, hard, across the side of my head. This was a whole other side to this woman that we had never experienced before but would many times in the future. What was even worse that she then did--as if to justify her hitting a kid who was not even yet her stepson--was to say when dad protested, "I gave those rubber bands to Freddie!" She lied.
This was to become the worst aspect of her defense of Freddie's behavior in the years to come--to lie about what had actually happened or to pretend it never happened. (Which is worse? That Willene saw the rubber bands I was using and needed but took them to give to her own son, or that she was now lying about having given those rubber bands to Freddie, knowing that Freddie had likely taken them but was fine with lying about what had happened?)
It was a long time ago and I have made my peace with how we were treated so many years ago. What was most important is that we eventually fought back and finally demanded that we be allowed to live with our mother, a solution that was better for all concerned. We would eventually no longer allow Willene to "discipline" us, and she would be rid of two kids she never really was willing or able to raise fairly.
Willene, also now indignant that I was accusing her precious son of theft, walked over to me and whacked me, hard, across the side of my head. This was a whole other side to this woman that we had never experienced before but would many times in the future. What was even worse that she then did--as if to justify her hitting a kid who was not even yet her stepson--was to say when dad protested, "I gave those rubber bands to Freddie!" She lied.
This was to become the worst aspect of her defense of Freddie's behavior in the years to come--to lie about what had actually happened or to pretend it never happened. (Which is worse? That Willene saw the rubber bands I was using and needed but took them to give to her own son, or that she was now lying about having given those rubber bands to Freddie, knowing that Freddie had likely taken them but was fine with lying about what had happened?)
It was a long time ago and I have made my peace with how we were treated so many years ago. What was most important is that we eventually fought back and finally demanded that we be allowed to live with our mother, a solution that was better for all concerned. We would eventually no longer allow Willene to "discipline" us, and she would be rid of two kids she never really was willing or able to raise fairly.
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