Page 22 - Pat's Tavern
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Pat’s Tavern by Thomas J. Crane“Get Outta Here, Kid”When I was about six years old, we lived at 64th Place, the courtway as we called it, which was just off Maryland Avenue. This was about a block and a half from where I went to school. As usual, I started off one morning and crossed the alley which was just a short distance from my home. As I did so I saw a group of men in overcoats standing around an automobile and looking in the windows. I paused to see what they were looking at and one of them said, “Get outta here, kid.” With that I continued on my way to school. When I got home, my mother told me that my classmate’s father killed himself. He was not only a classmate but he lived nearby. His father did so by running an exhaust hose from his car to the inside and died of carbon monoxide poisoning. The reason being that his father was a bank robber and he got word that the authorities were closing in on him. This was his way of escaping time in the penitentiary.It was not too long after wards that my classmate moved away with his mother and I never saw him again. I often wondered what his life must have been like without a father and especially if anyone ever told him the circumstances of his father’s death. If he ever did find out, he, as well as his mother, surely had a heavy burden to bear as they went through life. No one knows what crosses some people carry unless others or, perhaps even the people, themselves, tell their story. Some lives contain many hardships and we never know what others have to overcome.22


































































































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