When Grampa was little, his dad worked for his Great Uncle at a hatchery. This was a large, yellow building that provided endless space for tossing balls, or anything else that might bounce off an old yellow wall. This was a fun time for Grampa, and would have been for any kid that lived there.
From the beginning, Grampa thought of his dad as being part of Central Hatchery. He seemed to love the job; he made aggressive decisions, preformed any task necessary to ensure the eggs hatched, were raised and were sold. But, when Grampa asked him why he did it, he replied, “I didn’t do it because I liked it, I did it because it was necessary.” But, his dedication to the business was “all-out” and suggested otherwise.
Grampa’s family lived at the hatchery so there was always some form of poultry at the table. Despite this, no cholesterol levels rose, and no salmonella occurred. For certain, the eggs and chickens were always fresh, since there was no middleman.
There were ten incubators, which were ideal for playing hide and seek. It was difficult for anyone to find Grampa, especially when he sat up on top. Plus, there was an attic top, where you were certain to get dusty, bitten, or fall right off. This provided the ideal hangout spot that would be the envy of any young boy in their right mind.
An open air movie theater, a lumber company and a used car lot made up the rest of the property. Free range was allowed, as long as the children did not interfere with business. If they did, they would certainly be punished. Since they weren’t a vandal group, they respected the unwritten rules and were never punished.
There was a long sloping hill nearby which provided many hours of sledding entertainment in the winter. There was a highway at the bot-tom of the hill, to make the journey more daring and exciting Grampa still bears the scar on his knee from curbing it down this hill - just ask him and he’ll show it to you.
The nearby lumberyard offered scraps of wood, which were used as weapons, forts and tepees. When the yard got so littered up with their creations, Grampa would clean it up and they would start all over again.
When Grampa entered the Navy, the highway bought the hatchery and bulldozed it to put in more roads. Grampa says that the yellow bricks went to the Wizard of Oz Corporation (no joke). It was the end of a very important time for Grampa and signaled his departure from childhood into manhood.
