The title says it all! This book is a realistic account, of a young boy, born in poverty and a very strict upbringing throughout childhood. Humorous, to the extent of crying, crying, to the extent of compassion and compassion to cheering the lad on to the winners circle! You will witness, in all probability, some of the same circumstances in your past life, that will quicken your decision to thrive in thirst, for the ambitions and aggressive desires for your own ship of spoils. Read of his first love, his monumental heartbreak, his regrets, his everlasting haunts, his forward approach to getting what he had dreamed of but was told, "It will never be" You will not want to put this book down, until you finish it! Destined to be a # 1 best seller, with a follow up sequel, already in the making. Many are still sitting back and saying, "Someday my ship wikll come in" but yet in doubt, it never comes into dock. This is the story of one, who waited for years and it wouldn't come in, so with determination, grit and the dream re-kindled, he decided in his heart, "If it won't come to me, I'll go out and get it" Absorb the beauty of the moment, when the sheer energy, captures the spirit and carries him on, to the ship of his dreams!

ENOUGH OF THIS CRAP!

If Your Ship Won't Come In, Swim Out To It!By John Buche'r

AuthorHouse

Copyright © 2012 John Buche'r
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4685-5094-8

Contents

Chapter I. In the Beginning.....................................1Chapter II. "Chickens and Lickins'".............................13Chapter III. Young Rocky........................................23Chapter IV. "The Cape"..........................................31Chapter V. Ole'Tom and Tweety...................................39Chapter VI. The Shame of it All.................................45Chapter VII. Grapes, White Bucks and Exile!.....................61Chapter VIII. My Tribute to Dad.................................77Chapter IX. Dress Blues and a Sword.............................107Chapter X. Dumber than Dumb.....................................133Chapter XI. High Waves..........................................153Chapter XII. The Ship...........................................169

Chapter One

In the Beginning

It was 2:45 a.m. July 5th, 1939. A very sultry morning after the 4th of July celebration was over, when all of a sudden, the front door was kicked open and eight men, armed to the teeth, burst into the room on a surprise raid!

They had been watching this house for some time and decided it was time for the bust. Nellie Bogard, owner, operator, Mother and a non-descript member of the "Lucky Luciano" crime syndicate since 1935, stood at the end of the long table, slim cigarillo hanging from her mouth and a sneer spreading across her face.

In our present lifestyle today, they call it the "Lottery," but back in those days, it was an illegal entity called, "The Numbers Racket!"

All the occupants of the house were hauled off to free occupancy at the Iron Bar Hotel! It was a short stay however, because Nellie was out before noon!

A few days later, the sky loaded with very heavy, dark clouds, Nellie came out the front door of the house and headed for her dark green Packard automobile. It was a rugged looking car with some kind of a grill on the rear end of it hanging on the trunk lid. It looked like a gate to me but I don't know what they called it.

Her Butler, she really did have a butler, had the car already running and they started off to the city. She had some kind of a commercial laundry, which didn't take in the money that supported her life style, as everyone knew, but come to find out much later, it was just a front for her REAL source of income!

I wasn't born yet, but I collected all this information from her two sisters, Ruby and Opal, who were into employment with her, that is if you could call it employment! They had pictures of themselves and others hanging on the walls and most of them resembled what you would see in the local Post Office, hanging on its wall under the word Wanted!

No one ever said much about Nellie's first husband, John Williams, except he was shot and killed in a raid late one night. We had a very hush mouthed family and I guess you can see the reason why.

A few months later, she married Pearl Penwell and had two sons and 3 daughters. Don't ask me how all this came to be with her busy schedule! Lonnie, who got his left eye shot out with a B.B. gun, Kenneth, who drove a big milk tanker, which he rolled and totaled, while bending over to pick up the cigar he dropped on the floor while driving, Velveteen, who never said anything much, Ruth, who had a nervous twitch and last but not least, was Zelma.

Now Zelma was the spittin' image of Nellie but Zelma didn't smoke a cigarillo and she didn't pack a Rod!

During the next few years, Nellie's kids grew up and just like Mother, in and out of scrapes, in and out of jail, just plain in and out!

Over those years, Lucky Luciano was in prison, then out and deported, then back and finally faded. The Numbers Racket diminished for the most part but there was still a lot going on in the syndicates.

Nellie and Ray (the butler), got involved in another venture but for a long time, no one knew what that venture was. They would leave early in the mornings and not return until late that night.

Meanwhile, Nellie's kids had all grown, gotten married and Grandkids were everywhere! I mean there must have been some rabbit jeans somewhere on the family tree!

Zelma, Nellie's youngest, had married a Frenchman named Merrill, which combined with Zelma's heritage, formed a tribe of French Anglo/Norman crazy Badasses!

Zelma's first child, a Son she named Gerald, then a daughter, Nellie, named after her Mobster Mother and then a daughter, Polly Ann.

Many strange things transpired over the next few years that no body ever knew about and didn't even dare to ask! Zelma and Merrill began to argue a lot and from time to time even got into a huge knock down drag out fight! I mean the Walton family it wasn't!

No one ever knew much about Merrill's side of the family except his Dad, Frank, was about as mean and cantankerous as anyone could get. Didn't like anybody and wouldn't give anybody the time of day.

Now Merrill's Mother was even meaner! I want you to know she was mean, ornery and her looks would stop Amtrak at high speed! I mean she put the U in UGLY! She would make Freddie turn and run down the street! These people would rather shoot you than shake your hand!

Merrill had a good job working at the Ford Motor Company. He would leave about 4:00 a.m. to be at work on time at 5:00 a.m. He got home in the late afternoon around 3:00 p.m.

The early afternoon August heat, felt like it could blister at any moment. The sky, a cloudless blue, painted a work of art with a dense background of Elm, Maple, Cypress and a few lovely Dogwood Trees. A large creek ran through the property and traveled as far as you could see.

Two children were making their way down stream, to where the creek dropped about twenty feet and caused a small falls. It gave them great pleasure to run back and forth behind the water, to take advantage of the spray for a cool refreshing few moments.

"Clang! Clang! The bell resounded, signaling the children, come to the house. A large farm house looms in the distance, sporting the 1900's Era. They knew they dare not be too late. Breaking into a run, it was a race to the finish line.

"I thought I told you kids not to go to that crick! Jist look at them wet clothes! You better git them changed before your Dad can see ya." They really scampered to get upstairs, almost trampling on little Polly Ann in the process. She just looked at them running and—tried to catch them, but she tripped over her own feet and fell.

She rolled herself over, not even crying, looked around and then got up. Her little hands brushed her knees as if to remove the hurt and then headed to her Mommy, smiling.

The third child born to Zelma, a descendant of the Bogards, a Sultry clan migrating from Germany, Polly Ann was always a cheerful—fun loving child of three. She was always straightening this string she had around her waist which supported a little pouch filled with pennies.

Grandpa Frank, the Father of Polly Ann's Dad, Merrill, would always give Polly Ann a few pennies every week and when she collected enough, she would have him take her to the old country store and buy a little sack of candy. She was Grandpa Frank's pick of the litter so to speak. He would wait until supper was over, then pick up Polly Ann and carry her around until he had rocked her to sleep.

He hummed a few tunes to her, placed her on the bed and with a steady quietness he took her pouch of pennies, put them in her secret place, then...