Capturing Daily Life
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Candidate Insider
Scully Sits At Lunch Counter
With Black Friend, 1962
May 28, 2004 (Friday)
The following is an excerpt from
"A Book About The Life of David Scully",
by David Scully, 2004
In the Spring of 1961,
on the last day of school in fifth grade,
we moved about a mile away,
a few blocks across the city line
into suburban South Orange.
It was an exciting time for the family,
and I could sense it.
The Irish Catholic Kennedy had been inaugurated,
my brother Bob finally got his appointment
to West Point from the Italian Congressman
down the street, on his third try,
and we were "movin' on up"
to our castle in South Orange.
But, despite the excitement,
I felt a sense of loss,
because I was a boy,
and South Orange was for sissies.
It wasn't that bad, though.
I still attended Sacred Heart,
and kept my friends, and had wonderful summers.
But it was a twenty minute walk home now,
instead of a two minute walk.
And those walks home led to
the first love of my life (Ahhhhh).
Ah, the hugging and cuddling,
those wet kisses !
Yechh !
My jealous friends said she was a real dog.
Everybody said she was a real dog.
She was, in fact, a real dog,
and I loved her.
She was playing around a garbage can
one day on the way home,
and she had no collar,
and my friends said she was a stray.
I picked her up and carried her home.
There had never been a dog or cat in our house,
and my mother didn't want to start then.
But true love prevailed.
I would hurry home at lunch time
and watch "Rocky and Bullwinkle"
and "Dick Tracy" cartoons with Sam
(that was her name) on my lap,
teething and chewing up the arms
of the wooden rocking chair.
When I gave her a bone,
she'd play a funny game.
She'd chew on it a bit,
and then drop it intentionally,
and stare at it.
She'd woof a little and wait.
Then woof a little louder,
never taking her eyes off the bone.
Eventually, I'd stretch and get the bone
without dropping her.
Then she'd do it again.
She loved to play that game.
She was training me, I guess.
One day my brother was home,
and he told me that when I left for school,
Sam stayed by the door and whined all day long
until I returned. Now THAT's LOVE !
Well, a few months later,
on a snowy winter day,
my mother let the puppy run loose.
Sam didn't come back and,
after a tearful two days of searching,
my parents contacted the police,
who said that a dog of that description
had been hit by a car on an icy road
and taken by the driver to a veterinarian.
There was Sam, at Dr. Samuel Pollack's
Veterinary practice on Valley Street,
pretty banged up, with a broken front arm
and the rear leg broken in about five places.
She needed a lot of blood transfusion.
Dr. Sam Pollack and his wife,
insisted that we re-name her Samantha.
We complied, and she came home and started recovery.
Months later, I often heard my mother
complain that my father wouldn't pay the bill.
I was tired of the family trouble,
so one day I took my piggy bank
to Dr. Pollack's office and emptied it out
on his desk. He cried and gave me a job.
I came in every Saturday and "helped out",
usually washing dogs.
Dr. Pollack was Jewish, I was told,
and I have no reason to doubt it.
South Orange was known for its Jewish population.
"Lots of rich Jews there," was the discussion
every Halloween. "Yeah, but they're cheap,"
was the conventional wisdom among us kids,
"And the houses are too far apart."
So that was my first personal experience
with a Jewish person, and it was clearly
a positive one.
Dr. Pollack had one employee and he was black.
I worked under his direction. I forget his name.
He was gentle and soft-spoken.
He had an injured hand because a truck
had run over it during WWII
(that's "World War Two" or "The Second World War",
for you history majors at UC Davis).
We ate lunch together every Saturday
at the lunch counter across the street.
That would have been the Spring of 1962.
So, um, I guess that means I was cutting edge
in the Civil Rights Movement, huh liberals ?
So that was my first working/personal relationship
with an African American, and it, too,
was a positive one.
I can't remember how many weeks or months
I worked there. Dr. Pollack eventually
said the debt was paid.
Posted by dscully at 07:77 PM Top of Page
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David Scully
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davidscully
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