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The Cardboard Box
Everyone has probably heard the phrase "he couldn`t punch his way out of a paper bag." I had a similar and very traumatic experience when I was about 5 or 6 years old which really proved the point to me!
On warm summer days in Stockport during the late ‘30s, if it wasn’t raining we played outside all day. We had very few ‘real’ toys so we made do with what we had. One of my favorites was a big cardboard carton which breakfast cereal had been shipped in. With that box I could escape from the world. When I got in and pulled the four flaps over me I was safe from anything. If the Indians would attack me, it didn`t matter how many arrows they shot, I was safe. If I sat real still when the" bad guys" in the black hats came past chasing the "good guys" in the white hats, they would never see me. There was no limit to what that box could protect me from – even wild animal attacks.
One day I was inside with the box all closed up when I heard my Dad pull into the driveway and get out of the car. I sat very quiet and still, intending to jump out and yell "boo" after he passed by. All at once and without a sound, my world turned upside down. Dad had turned the box over, leaving me sitting on the flaps!
I didn`t move for a bit, then I thought, "I`ll still sneak up behind him and scare him.” The only problem was, try as I may I could not get out. I tried to stand up but couldn`t get my legs straight enough. No matter how I moved, I could not turn the box over. Nothing worked! All I could do was yell for help. Dad had gone on into the house and began talking with Mom so they couldn`t hear me for what seemed like a very long time! After a lot of yelling and crying I finally made myself heard and they came and rescued me.
By then I was "scared to death." I don`t remember the exact words Mom said but it was something like, "the very idea leaving that boy trapped like that," and Dad was saying, "how did I know he couldn`t get out." Poor Dad! He only meant it in fun but he ended up in the "dog house" himself.
I never was claustrophobic up until then, but for a long time afterwards I had a little trouble with it and remember having some bad dreams. If you think this story is "purely fiction," try it yourself some time, Or try to punch your way out of a paper bag.
Funny the things we remember from our very young years and how they affect us in our later life.
On warm summer days in Stockport during the late ‘30s, if it wasn’t raining we played outside all day. We had very few ‘real’ toys so we made do with what we had. One of my favorites was a big cardboard carton which breakfast cereal had been shipped in. With that box I could escape from the world. When I got in and pulled the four flaps over me I was safe from anything. If the Indians would attack me, it didn`t matter how many arrows they shot, I was safe. If I sat real still when the" bad guys" in the black hats came past chasing the "good guys" in the white hats, they would never see me. There was no limit to what that box could protect me from – even wild animal attacks.
One day I was inside with the box all closed up when I heard my Dad pull into the driveway and get out of the car. I sat very quiet and still, intending to jump out and yell "boo" after he passed by. All at once and without a sound, my world turned upside down. Dad had turned the box over, leaving me sitting on the flaps!
I didn`t move for a bit, then I thought, "I`ll still sneak up behind him and scare him.” The only problem was, try as I may I could not get out. I tried to stand up but couldn`t get my legs straight enough. No matter how I moved, I could not turn the box over. Nothing worked! All I could do was yell for help. Dad had gone on into the house and began talking with Mom so they couldn`t hear me for what seemed like a very long time! After a lot of yelling and crying I finally made myself heard and they came and rescued me.
By then I was "scared to death." I don`t remember the exact words Mom said but it was something like, "the very idea leaving that boy trapped like that," and Dad was saying, "how did I know he couldn`t get out." Poor Dad! He only meant it in fun but he ended up in the "dog house" himself.
I never was claustrophobic up until then, but for a long time afterwards I had a little trouble with it and remember having some bad dreams. If you think this story is "purely fiction," try it yourself some time, Or try to punch your way out of a paper bag.
Funny the things we remember from our very young years and how they affect us in our later life.
Bernie Porter
LeilaN |
Latest page update: made by LeilaN
, Jun 30 2009, 6:47 PM EDT
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Keyword tags:
'30s
Morgan County
Stockport
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