Books allowed me not only to travel in my imagination but to look through windows into the world of the unknown and not feel afraid. That was until TT brought me a book I had been dying to have, The Boys’ Book of Snakes. A big light green book, the color of a garden snake, it captivated me for days on end as I studied every minute detail of the snake world—from the friendly-sounding milk snakes and coral snakes to the deadly rattlers, cobras, and pythons. During waking hours I was fascinated, but at night, especially during one particular snake-infested nightmare in which my bed was full of writhing, hissing poisonous snakes, I regretted ever seeing those pictures.
Apparently so did TT and Uncle Archie, who woke up in the middle of the night to find me wedged in between them in the bed. “What in the . . .” Uncle Archie started up, but no amount of placating or chiding could get me to my own bed. In the end, they both went back to sleep, letting me feel safe and not making me feel too embarrassed—until later when I was a big, strong guy and they teased me about it mercilessly.
The other window into the world of the unknown was the black-and-white TV set, and the finest vision I ever saw on it was of Sugar Ray Robinson standing next to a Cadillac.
“Now I seen all,” Uncle Archie exclaimed, his hand on my shoulder, pointing at the TV screen. “Sugar Ray Robinson got himself a pink Cadillac!”
With black-and-white TV, we wouldn’t have known it was pink if the announcer hadn’t said so, but it was no less amazing.
Friday fight nights sponsored by Gillette Blue Blades was our time, me and Uncle Archie, to sit down together—without TT and Ophelia—and enjoy every minute, from our conversations beforehand where he’d tell me everything he knew about boxing history, and the moment we’d hear that suspenseful intro music leading into the announcer’s booming “Gillette presents!” to the match itself.
Uncle Archie had a contagious aura of calm that he maintained even during the excitement of the fights or when crises came up. A man in his late twenties at the time, he never had a son, and I didn’t have a father, so that drew us closer. Besides his hardworking ethic on the job, Archie used his quiet, strong intelligence to rise up through the ranks of his union at Inland Steel, setting an example for me about tenacity and focus. A very handsome guy who was the male version of Moms in looks—nut brown in color, slender, and on the short side but appearing taller than he was—Archie was an incredibly sharp dresser, something that influenced my later sense of style and the clothes habit I acquired long before I could afford it. Never overdressed, he was immaculate in his grooming, with his short haircut and neat trim mustache and clothes that weren’t showy but always impeccable. Always.
