John Cronin Russell Davis, Sr. Part III

Part VIIc: Four Grandchildren of Andrew Russell and Josephine Davis

John Cronin Russell Davis, Sr.

(My Father)

Part III

Some of my earliest memories (impressions?) of my father (Cronin Davis, Sr.) are more sensations and vague, dreamlike sequences that surface in my memory from time to time. I’ve questioned myself on many occasions if these were actually first time impressions on the brain at the time of the event or whether they were memories of someone telling me about the event much later after the event had occurred. I keep concluding that these impressions were actually made at the time of the event since I questioned my parents later in life if they remembered the events. Sometimes they did but they were surprised at the detail of my memory which helped, especially, my mother to corroborate that what I was describing was indeed a real event but with details she did not remember.

• Before I was 18 months old I remember the fragrance of my dad’s aftershave lotion as he rubbed his cheek against my check. A fragrance that he seemed always to have had. It was like the softness of your parents’ bed when you were allowed to climb into bed with them. The pillows and sheets seemed to have a texture that was definitely softer and seemed to embrace a child in warmth and security.
• I remember the “roughness” of his face when it was unshaven.
• I remember my dad leaving on a train, a steam engine that belched lots of black smoke from the smokestack as it prepared to leave the station. I was later told that our father worked in a shipyard in Pascagoula, Mississippi during the 2^nd War and he left Mobile every Sunday afternoon on the train and returned on Friday afternoon to spend the weekend with us. Because of this weekly separation, I was scared of my father since I didn’t know him very well. Apparently, he had worked in Mississippi from the time of my birth in 1944 or, more than likely, well before that time. We eventually moved to Pascagoula and lived there until 1949.
• The steam engine locomotive was the reason that I thought that rain clouds came from the smoke that belched from the smokestack and colored the clouds black. It seemed to rain shortly after the train left the depot. I was probably in grade school before I was able to be set straight on what causes rain because I was sure that train locomotives were the reason. Actually, I’m still not sure what causes rain.
• I remember as a toddler reaching up to explore what was on a kitchen table and pulled a hot cup of coffee down on myself. I was scalded and my dad swept me up into his arms in a panic. I remember screaming with pain
• I remember being bundled tight in a blue blanket with my father holding me. My eyes were blinded by ceiling lights that were very bright. I felt quite sick. I found out later that my parents had rushed me to the doctor because of a high fever. I was diagnosed with scarletina (a precursor of scarlet fever).
• I remember my father letting me be the one to press and break the “reddish-yellow button” that was visible inside the plastic oleo (margarine) bag. The “button of color” was an option given to the consumer if one wanted to have a yellow color to the margarine. After breaking the button of color the consumer then kneaded the plastic bag until the contents turned yellow. Dyes in foods must have been in use long before I was born.
• I remember being bathed by my father in a very large sink (perhaps, a kitchen sink). The sink was so large that my brother Larry and I could fit in it together. We were living in Pascagoula by then.
• I remember yelling at the top of my voice as a signal for my father or mother to come rescue me from some aggravation being imposed upon me by my older brothers. I was really good at yelling and developed the technique so well that it could be turned on and off at will whenever I was threatened or when danger had passed. The yell was probably a prototype of alarm now used on automobile security systems. The yell was VERY effective and was highly perfected to the disdain of older siblings who would at times bribe me not to activate it by giving me chocolate or some other sweet enticement.
• I remember sitting beside my dad on a church pew in a parish church somewhere out from Pascagoula. It wasn’t our regular parish of Our Lady of Victory. For some reason we would occasionally attend a different church for Mass. This smaller structure had a wonderful belfry and bell that rang for several minutes before the service began. I remember seeing the bell swing in the belfry as we approached the building.
• I was probably around 3 years old at the time of these Pascagoula memories.
• I remember my dad’s reaction of horror when my oldest brother Cronin (Jr.) broke his collar bone one summer evening when everyone was outside playing games. My dad was exasperated with Cronin for running into a guide wire of a utility pole as well as very compassionate in knowing that the injury really was paining his son. My dad didn’t do well under the strain of medical emergencies.
• I remember one summer evening when all the kids were supposed to be in bed when I heard my mother and father go out the front door, get into the car, and start the engine. I ran to the front porch of our rented duplex and asked to go with them. This was probably one of the few times my parents could have some quiet time together as they drove to get an ice cream at the local drive-in soda hop. My dad motioned for me to get in the car even though I was clad only in my pajama bottoms. He told me to lie down on the back seat and not to speak. I was so glad to be able to tag along that I was as quiet as a mouse as I listened to the muffled conversation coming from the front seat. More than likely, this event, which may have happened more times than I remember, allowed me, without ever a complaint, to invite our younger son into our bed at 4 a.m. every morning from the time he was able to climb out of his crib until he was 5 years old. (to be continued)