2nd time around!!

I've revised some of what I have written for my grand fathers book. Here's part of the first part of the first chapter. I am still working on it... and it needs to be edited a little more.. But anyhow, thought I'd see if I could get a little feedback. thanks again!

Sunday, July 10^th, 1921, at about eleven that morning, Herbert Walter Gellert emerged from Henrietta Kujat Gellert’s womb screaming as loud as his little lunges would permit. At this point in time there were no doctors, delivery rooms, nurses, or anesthetists, just a German born midwife. This midwife was the one who caught his little body, held him upside down for a moment, put silver nitrate in his eyes, washed and dried him carefully and then she finally placed him into his mother’s outstretched arms for nursing and cuddling. This entire miracle took place in St. Paul, Minnesota.

That Baby was me- Herby! My mother has told me the story of my delivery multiple times, each time she tells it with much enthusiasm and so much pride in me and in herself, however, she opted not to have anymore children, so I was an only child. I can recall many times where I to was proud of my mother. She was an exceptional cook regardless of her terrible arthritis, and not until later in my life had I ever met a woman who could cook as well as my mother had. Growing up we had five delicious apple trees, raspberries, current, gooseberry bushes, and a large garden. My taste buds were undeniably fond of my mother's ox tail soup, cooked chicken feet, pickled pigs feet, and potato pancakes.

My father was an interesting fellow; I've tried many of times to think of a word to sum up him and his personality. All that I've ever been able to really come up with is the word interesting. I spent a lot of my time with my father doing my best to learn some tricks of the trade. He was a genius when it came to working on cars, this was something I whole heartedly admired and worked to be just like.

My Parents both had a favorite past time. They called it "The Time to Relax", However, Most would call it "The time to be wasted". Both of my parents were quite different when they drank, my dad would become really cheerful and jovial while my mother would become morose and complain. Most often she would complain that I was not my father's son. In my later years I learned of the story behind her complaint. My mother was actually married to a Gottlieb Moench when she met my father, so I was considered to be conceived out of wedlock due to her affair. This comment really did hurt both my father and I. I recall my father telling my mom often to go to bed and sleep off her anger, this reminds me of one incident when my mother hit her head against an open door and cut her head open. Dr. Williams came over shortly after and put in six stitches. This ordeal was the cause of there divorce years later…but that’s another story.

I remember often getting knocks on our back door from homeless men looking for food or a place to rest for the night. I usually would allow them to pick the apples off the ground and my mother would give them food. I do recall promising to myself I would always pay it forward but never would I become homeless or a beggar.

One sunny Saturday afternoon my friends and I scrambled into my play house to try out smoking. I never could get the smoke down into my lungs, as I didn’t care much for the burning sensation. I remember my mother catching us; she must have been able to see the smoke emerge from the open windows. Boy, was she mad. My mother was an undeniable fan of her Camels, Chesterfields, and Lucky Strikes. I would often straighten out her shoe rack where she would hide the cartons, and I'd steal her loot. I became curious what it was like to smoke after witnessing her and my father smoke as far back as I could remember. They probably were keen to smoking a few packs a week out on the front porch. I remember my mother yelling my name and stomping down the back porch towards the playhouse, or what she called “The chicken shack”. She was as fast as the wind blows, she whipped open the door grabbed the cigarettes out of my hand and in the same motion bent me over her knee. I received the most lickings out of all of my friends. I promised her I'd never smoke again.

These lickings seemed to happen fairly often, although smoking never did happen again. Coping with the temptations of drugs, alcohol, and lawlessness was all too easy- I often did all of them- except drugs. Wilson Junior High was where it really all began and things in my life seemed to get a little more amusing. My parents past time of “Relaxing” really started to come into play for me. It set about on New Years Eve, 1986. A best friend of mine, Larry, was home alone. His folks were out of town for the weekend, and he was an only child as well. This meant that Larry and I were either the best of friends or we were the worst of enemies. Larry and I invited a few more buddies over: Gordy and Bob. We all called over to the local liquor store and ordered a half gallon of Muscatel wine to be delivered to Larry’s. None the less, we all got drunk, especially me!! I knocked over the Christmas tree, stumbled into the bedroom and attempted to sleep. The bed seemed to roll over and over and I sure got sick! Within minutes I was running to the toilet to give up my insides. I was actually lucky this happened to me when it did because I learned to quite drinking before I ever reached that period again where the bed would turn.

I have always enjoyed the many seasons. Winter was delightful because it meant skiing, tobogganing, and skating. Summer was even better, although my mother was told not to let me play sports when I was born because the doctor had diagnosed me with an enlarged heart. I ignored his diagnosis and played anyways. I recall a time when my friends and I would pretend we were characters from the comic strip Tailspin Tommy. We would dig holes for the cockpits, mould wings out of sand, place chunks of wood up for the tail and for the propellers. Then we would proceed to shoot one another out of the clear blue sky. I most certainly played the part of “Herb”, who was the good guy and sidekick of the hero Tailspin Tommy. I once had to defend Tailspin Tommy by fighting with empty glass bottles and breaking them in our hands. Needless to say, I still have a scar on my middle finger on my right hand. Despite all of that excitement, on this particular day we found a hidden treasure, or so we thought. We found a cistern and after a full day of shoveling we hit bottom. There was nothing…no “goodies”.

My growth record seemed fairly normal. At my tallest I stood at 5’11”, but as I have gotten older I have decreased in height by two inches. Physically I have most always been a bit chubby. When I eat too much I gain, and then my pants don’t fit. Eating has definitely been my favorite past time. My eye color is Brown and I wished often to have Blue eyes. My distinctive physical features include a very prominent nose, close set eyes, receding chin, narrow shoulders, a belly, big hips, thin arms, heavy upper legs, and narrow feet with high arches. Most of my strength is in my back, as I could do the deep knee bends with 400 pounds on my back. My hair color is brown and the texture seems awfully fine with a slight wave in it. I’ve worn my hair pretty short for years and prefer it to be that way now. Luckily, My family on both sides seemed to have amazing dental history with very hard teeth. My dad would chew bones, eat raw oysters, and hardly ever brush his teeth which lasted until has passing. I had braces when I was eleven years old, which I was not a fan of. I remember pulling off the braces so that I could be excused from school and have to go to the orthodontist for repairs. He did not do a very good job on my lower teeth, probably because I had pulled off the braces and he wasn’t able to remedy the problem.