I would like to first and foremost try and let everyone know that although my brothers and I wound up in what use to be called 'scrapes"; we really weren't criminals at all. We were, well, opportunistic, maybe...with a good amount of legal "gray area" to wash over everything is probably a better description.
Ma and Pops Cash instilled in us boys a good work ethic. A good example was the corduroy britches Ma made for us when we were kids. She made all our clothes, right down to a few winter coats. She was good. But when you're in the fourth grade and still wearing to school red corduroy britches with only elastic sewn into the top, you can feel a little self-conscious. For a 10 year old Cash boy to have a store-bought pair of Levi's blue jeans required his own money. Our folks gave us the necessities as they saw fit. If we wanted something extra, we got it ourselves.
Two of the early jobs I procured were mowing lawns for old man Minick and pumping gas or fixing flats at Bill's Phillips 66 gas station. Being the youngest Cash boy these jobs just fell in my lap actually as both of brothers had cleared the path by also working for these guys in their early years.
Eventually my oldest brother Cole was drawn 'to the Cloth' and wanted to help spread the Gospel. I've always thought his decision came about after he saw what a bad influence he had on his littler brothers. Cole was the quintessential 'hoodlum' from the '50s. Low slung dirty Levis with the cuffs turned out, shiny leather 'points', Pall Malls rolled up in his t-shirt sleeve and his curly Wildroot infused dark hair perfectly combed back...with the "duck tail" in the back (that made the girls swoon).
By the way, Cole is now a retired Methodist minister in Colorado Springs that occasionally makes poor attempts at golfing.
Anyway, early on Cole had played softball for our church team at the Mayflower Congregation Church. He liked it so much he took on the duties as assistant youth minister. His career took off from that, but not without a few twists and turns...
Because the ministry paid exactly nothing, Cole maintained his employment with old man Minick who had his fingers in everything. He was a junk man, a yard man, a swap meet fella and a drunk. Cole ran his heavy equipment and did most of the work for Minick in his crazy "get rich quick" schemes. And one year Minick decided to get into the Christmas tree business. The fact that a trailer load of 500 Christmas trees could be had for $250 and retailed out at $2500 to $3000 was surely the allure.
Minick lived on an acreage next to the tracks. We called it the junkyard, but there really was a house in there. A small amount of frontage on a semi-busy street allowed him enough space to set up his Christmas tree lot and for the first weekend things looked promising...until a City inspector came and shut him down. Minick was faced with a monumental list of code violations ranging from no open retail permit to fire codes to electrical codes. The old man was devastated.
Cole saw an opportunity and attempted to convince the deacons at the church to buy out Minick's load of Christmas trees and sell them on the church grounds. The church had a good location, the money...and outdoor electricity used to run the lights on the yearly Nativity scene. A "hole" in the zoning codes would allow a non-profit organization (churches) to open retail "seasonal" (Christmas) effects. It was the perfect idea. The softball team needed new uniforms and Cole saw his chance to make big. Sadly, the elders thought it "just wasn't the thing to do". Apparently the Baptists had the corner on the Christmas tree market and the Congregationists didn't want to rock the boat...Cole was devastated and the needles were starting to drop on the Doug Firs and Scotch Pines....
All this while Holden and I were scratching our Christmas money at Bill's 66, rubbing road grease off windshields and having grumpy old men tell us we slammed their hood too hard. Bill's 66 was on a corner and Bill owned the lot next to the station also. At one time it had been a used car lot, but all that was there now was a 1951 1-ton gin pole tow truck that proudly said "Bill's 66" on the door. I don't know who came up with the idea, probably Cole, but a deal was soon in the works to use the lot for a Chrsitmas tree stand. Bill would get a cut of the sales for use of the old car lot and Cole, Holden and I would run the sales. Sounded great. But two things stood in our way. Not being church sanctioned, Cole would need to obtain permits...and the simple fact that nobody had $250 to buy out Minick's load of trees.
Cole actually had two members of the staff at the church that were on his side. One was an old deacon that loved causing trouble and the other was the youth minister. They hastily hatched a plan to cobble together the necessary paper work to create the "Mayflower Congregational Youth Organization" without the blessing of old Reverend Bradshaw. And somebody "borrowed" $250 from the treasure of undeposited Sunday offerings that was suppose to be locked up...
Somehow, someway, an old carnie (Minick), a drunk Irish service station owner, a youth minister and a juvenile delinquent with his two little brothers made a good amount of Christmas joy happen over a load of Christmas trees that was going to go to waste. We had a fantastic Christmas, everybody made money. Bill had so much business at the gas station he was all in the next year. Holden and I made our Christmas money at the stand by selling and loading trees. Our sister Sharon and her friends actually made out pretty good by selling hot cocoa and cookies there, too.
And on the spiritual side of things....Cole got the money back to the church before anybody saw what was going on. The softball team got their new uniforms. And even to this day you can drive by the old church and the gymnasium in the back has a sign that reads "Mayflower Congregational Youth Fellowship". An organization that still helps local kids and is an upstanding charity in the community. There's a small plaque on the wall in the office that dedicated the new building to Cole and his efforts.
And the picture above? That's Cole on his 1963 BSA Shooting Star. Which, by the way, was purchased in January of the next year.....where he got the money? .....Only the Good Lord knows. 😉
PS - I did talk to Cole this evening. I apparently have some details reported here erroneously. He swears up and down (as only a preacher can...) the offering money was NEVER used for the purchase of the trees. He remembered "borrowing" the money from the old deacon...
I had to call Holden and ask him what he remembered. Funny, he remembered the same thing I did...Cole and the youth minister "purloined" it from the offering stash. It doesn't matter, it all wound up good in the end.
That's a great photo, by the way. From the set of his clothes it looks like he was moving at a pretty good clip when it was taken. Or maybe it was just a breezy day -- you ever get in any wind in Oklahoma?
Jim Frame, post: 347680, member: 10 wrote: ....you ever get in any wind in Oklahoma?
I tell people the wind quit blowin' once....and everybody fell over. 😉
I always thought we had nasty wind here on the front range in Colorado. Then someone explained to me that the wind doesn't blow in Colorado....Kansas sucks. So now I'm not sure.
Good story, btw
Your stories are great to read. Remind me of my youth. Thanks for sharing.
ÛÏAnd somebody "borrowed" $250 from the treasure of undeposited Sunday offeringsÛ?Û AND,
ÛÏEventually my oldest brother Cole was drawn 'to the Cloth' and wanted to help spread the Gospel.Û
After reading about the ÛÏCash BoysÛ for five years I suspect the latter occurred during incarceration. 😉
ÛÏAnd on the spiritual side of things....Cole got the money back to the church before anybody saw what was going on. The softball team got their new uniforms. And even to this day you can drive by the old church and the gymnasium in the back has a sign that reads "Mayflower Congregational Youth Fellowship". An organization that still helps local kids and is an upstanding charity in the community. There's a small plaque on the wall in the office that dedicated the new building to Cole and his efforts.Û
Nice, keep Û÷em coming.
FL/GA PLS., post: 347732, member: 379 wrote: ÛÏAnd somebody "borrowed" $250 from the treasure of undeposited Sunday offeringsÛ?Û AND,
ÛÏEventually my oldest brother Cole was drawn 'to the Cloth' and wanted to help spread the Gospel.Û...After reading about the ÛÏCash BoysÛ for five years I suspect the latter occurred during incarceration. ;-)..
Actually, none us were ever incarcerated...if you can believe that. It's true, though. The local cops knew all they had to do was tell our parents and the wrath that followed would make incarceration a breeze. Now speeding tickets and equipment violations were another story altogether.....
paden cash, post: 347736, member: 20 wrote: The local cops knew all they had to do was tell our parents and the wrath that followed
Yeah, like back in the olden days when you got in trouble at school, got yer ass paddled, and then had to take a note home to your parents whom would beat your ass again as an encore.;-)
That is what I got. One at school and a worse one at home.
That's a great wheelie!! I love how he took the time to make it look easy for the camera.
Reminds me of this picture...Featuring a friend of my grandmother (Harry Tompkins).
imaudigger, post: 347793, member: 7286 wrote: ...I love how he took the time to make it look easy for the camera...
He always looked at people taking pictures that way. I think he though his head looked funny if you took a profile picture of him...funny what you remember about brothers.
He was married and gone by the time "Welcome Back Kotter" came on tv, but Cole invented the Vinnie Barbarino "Who, what....where....??"
From that picture I would bet that he was a contemporary to my dad. They probably knew each other. The rodeo circuit was small in the 40's, 50's and early 60's.
Well Paden back in our day video games weren't invented and kids actually spent most daylight hours outdoors doing silly things like playing baseball, fishing and collecting bottles to get candy money. Not like today.
Check out article below:
May 08, 2013|By JOHN ROSEMOND
"When I was a child, back in the Parenting Stone Age (a.k.a. the Parentocentric Era), your parents were the most important people in the family. They paid the bills, bought your clothes, prepared the food you ate, took care of you when you were sick, drove you to where you needed to be, tucked you in, and kissed you good night. They were essential.
Your parents acted like they were bigger than you were too, like they knew what they were doing and didn't need your help making decisions. In fact, your opinion really didn't matter much. When they spoke to you, they didn't bend down, grab their knees, and ask for your cooperation in a wheedling tone. They spoke in no uncertain terms, and they thought you were smart, so they only said anything once. The rule was very simple: They told you what to do, and you did it, because they said so.
Your mom and dad paid more attention to one another than they paid to you. You didn't think about that at all. It was just the way it was. But looking back, you sure are glad you weren't the center of the family universe. You were a satellite, orbiting around their solid presence. They even told you, on occasion, that you were just a little fish in a big pond. You didn't understand what that meant, of course, until you got out in the big pond and began to realize that putting oneself into proper perspective greatly improves one's life and the lives of those around him.
They bought you very little, so you appreciated everything you had. And you took care of it. When your bike broke, you figured out how to fix it. Or your dad fixed it. In either case, you understood you weren't getting a new one, not any time soon. You loved your mom and dad, but you left home as early as possible because you were absolutely certain you could make a better life for yourself than they were willing to make for you. And you were right!
Back then, elementary school classes often held more than 40 children, most of whom came to first grade not knowing their ABCs. Back then, your mother didn't give you much, if any, help with your homework. Yet at the end of first grade, and every subsequent grade in fact, those kids were outperforming today's kids in every subject, and today's momsthink good moms help with homework.
Today's parents still pay the bills, buy the clothes, prepare the food, and so on, but by some strange twist, they treat their children as if they are the most important people in the family. Parents don't act bigger any more either. When they talk to their children, they get down to their level, like they're petitioning the king, and they whine, as in, "Do you think you can stop what you're doing for a minute and help Mommy carry in the groceries?" The rule seems very simple: Parents ask children to do things, and children take their requests under consideration.
Today's typical mom and dad pay a lot more attention to the children than they do to one another. They also talk more to them, do more for them, and take more interest in them. It would seem that today's parents are the satellites, orbiting around the children, who are obviously big fish and getting bigger all the time. And so, today's kids leave home later, and many of them come back home (the so-called "boomerang child") because they never learned certain fundamentals, as in don't spend more than you earn.
Sometimes people accuse me of what's called "Golden Age" thinking. I "idealize" the 1950s, they say. I disagree. I only say what is statistically verifiable: The 1950s was a better time for kids. According to mental health statistics, we were happier than today's kids, by far. In that regard, the latest research finds that obedient children are much happier than disobedient children. The latest research also finds that kids from homes where their parents' marriages are strong do better in school, regardless of IQ.
There I go again - idealizing common sense."
I heard the same story, but in reverse.
