Back to Weir.  On Gravel Street (Now Washington) 2 houses up from Jack Simon lived my uncle Dan and his mob, Bob, Betty, Tommy and Doug or Danny.  I can only remember Danny.  I probably was 4 years old.  Danny was playing a record on the record player and reading a book.  The only thing I could see was Roy Rogers and Trigger on the front of the book.  There was talking and once and a while music played with 3 gun shots following it.  Danny would turn the page and listen and look at the book intently.  I joined him in listening and looking at the book.  It had pretty good pictures, the words meant nothing to me.  After the 2nd or 3rd time the music played and the 3 gunshots went off, I asked if I could turn the pages.  He let me.  He was that kind of guy......lazy.  I enjoyed it so much, he gave the book and record set to me.   I still have it today.  My kids listened to it only on rare occassions.  Sometimes I wonder why I would treasure the object since 1953.  I can't remember any of the Christmas or birthday presents until I was 7 or 8 years old but receiving that book and record set is still as fresh in my mind as it was 54 years ago.

Speaking of Danny, there was another time we were there visiting.  We had dinner with them (Dan and Myrtle) and after dinner my folks (Bill and Mary) would sometimes play cards or dominoes.  I think it was pitch that night.  I was sitting at the table watching them play cards when a blood-curdling scream came running down the hall.  It was Danny.  He had been to the bathroom and when finished, zipped his fly up on his........hoo haw......  It took Dad, Dan and my mom to hold Danny down while Myrtle freed his hoo haw.   That pretty much ended the pitch game for the evening.  I think Dan and Dad laughed 15 or 20 minutes while Myrtle finished doctoring Danny.  I tended to be real careful in bathroom duties in the future so as not to repeat his misfortune.

Dan and Myrt moved later, I'm not sure where and we moved into that house.  There were 5 instances I can remember while we lived there. 

First, Butch and I were playing in the living room with our little soldiers and stuff and Roger kept coming in and taking them or just getting in our way.  We got tired of it and decided to take action.  There were venetian blinds on all the windows.  Butch and I hauled Roger up on the couch and tied one cord (the long one) around Roger's neck.  We pulled on the short cord to raise hime up in the air out of our way, but every time we released the cord he came back down.  We were only strong enough to get him up on his tip toes.  Mom came in and saw what we were doing and noticing the slight blue tint to his face and head, got him down and paddled our butts but only too well.  That ended our hanging brothers stage of growing up.  In the future we would overturn two kitchen chairs and put him in a mini jail to keep him out of our stuff.
 
Secondly, I can remember a fenced in area inour neighbors yard ( I think it was a dog pen....now without a dog) that had some barrels and boxes in it.  Butch and I climbed in and rummaged through the boxes and found some super toys....glasses without lenses...broken pencils and crayons...a couple of marbles and other junk...  Seems that our "Treasure" was the neighbors "Trash".  No wonder they didn't complain when we took it. 

Thirdly, Butch and I had a pedal car.  Dad set us up on the track...there was a sidewalk completely around the house.  Butch would take a lap and then get out and I would take a lap then Butch would do another and then I.  This lasted until Dad went into the house for something.   I was standing at the corner of the back of the house when Butch was finishing his lap......Whoosh  right past me he went.    He came around again.....right past me again!!  I couldn't have this, it was my turn....I knew I wasn't going to let that happen again.   The third time he came around the house, I picked up a piece of broken brick and threw it at him as he went by......connected squarely with the back of his head......split him open quite nicely.  He had a 1" long scar on the back of his head the rest of his life.

Fourthly, we used to go to the Neosho river to fish and play.  There was the highway route back to Weir or the back roads back to Weir.  Dan and Myrtle went the back roads back to town and Dad and Mom went the highway.....only partially blacktopped at that time, but straighter and no stop signs.  Dan left about 5 minutes before Dad and had Roger with him.  We got home first and when Dan pulled in the driveway and Roger saw we were already there he commented, "We left first and the sons-a-bitches beat us home"  Wonder where he picked up that kind of language at 3?  Couldn't have been from Bill and Dan Pierson could it?

Fifthly, my Brother Butch started 1st grade while we lived in that house.  Our bedroom was upstairs.  One day a kid in the neighborhood came by to get Butch to come out and play. (My brother went by Billy Pierson in the 1st grade....but not at home.) He yelled up to Butch "Bilwy Pioson can you come out and play?"    Butch yelled back at him "Bobby Emasin you tant talk pwain."  Kind of the pot calling the kettle black I think.