PAX Centurion - September / October 2014

Page 28 • PAX CENTURION • September/October 2014 617-989-BPPA (2772) The Law Firm of Scott D. Goldberg, P.C. is proud to continue supporting the Boston Police Patrolmen’s Association. Attorney Goldberg is honored to be the personal lawyer for many of its members and families for almost 25 years. The majority of our police clients are referred to us by other officers we have represented and with whom we have established close relationships. We fight for the rights of police men and women who are injured both on-duty and off, some of whom do not know that they have a right to a claim until they call us. The financial compensation we obtain for them includes lost pay – base, detail, and overtime – even when they receive Pay with Leave or used sick days. It also includes payment for medical expenses, disability, and pain and suffering. We are also excited to announce that we have a new website, at the same web address www.goldberglawfirm.net, which has more information about claims for police officers and insurance. If you, your family, or friends have been injured, or if would like advice about how to protect yourself and your family before an incident, then please contact Attorney Goldberg for a free consultation. T HE L AW F IRM OF S COTT D. G OLDBERG , P.C. Proudly Supports the Boston Police Patrolmen’s Association 2014 Police Letterhead banner Ad (7.5x.5).2_Layout 1 10/3/14 5:45 PM Page 1 T HE L AW F IRM OF S COTT D. G OLDBERG , P.C. Scott D. Goldberg, Esq. 52 Temple Place 4th Fl. Boston, MA 02111 tel: 617.227.1888 e-mail: scott@goldberglawfirm.net website: www.goldberglawfirm.net Representing Injured Police Officers Since 1990 2014 Police Bus Card Ad (2.5x1.5).2_Layout 1 10/3/14 5 Johnny got the message that he better get home or his father (yes, al- most every family had one back then, good, bad or indifferent) would kill him. Time was kept by the street lights: when they came on, you had better be home. If you ever complained to your parents that the neighborhood cop kicked you in the ass or had to speak to you, you had better be prepared for a second kick in the butt, as you had obvi- ously done something wrong. We played “buck-buck” (not worth explaining to those who will never know, but it’s the reason why my back kills me to this day) “re- lievio,” and baseball in vacant lots. We played with slinkys, transistor radios, marbles, and jump-rope (but only for girls – boys did not jump rope, we strangled each other with it). We all went to Pleasure Island or Paragon Park on Nantasket Beach for amusement. We skated in outdoor frozen rinks, like the one that used to exist around the Max Ulin rink in Milton at the end of the Blue Hills Parkway. We (well, actually, I ) did stupid things, like ride a piece of cardboard down the Blue Hills Ski Area in Milton. It was a great idea: everybody else bailed out before we hit the end of the hill: I used my foot to try to stop the tree. The tree won. The bus had stopped running at that time of night from the Trailside Museum down Rt. 138 to Mattapan. I walked home on a severely sprained ankle, all the while having my brother tell me to stop whining and hurry up. I ended up at Carney Hospital. This may be part of the reason I am not an accomplished brain-surgeon today… But we survived. Your shoes were usually “Buster Brown’s” or “Stride Rite’s”; there was also something called a “clodhopper”, which I was often accused of being. (I still am).Your sneakers were either Converse or P.F. Flyers, and they all cost less than $10.00, not the obscene amounts of money kids pay (and get killed over) today. Almost every family had a milk-man and a bread man who de- livered to the house, and a man would often come by (sometimes on horseback and wagon) crying out “any old paper, any old rags”! The major stores in every neighborhood were F.W. Woolworth’s (the “five and dime”) andW.T. Grant’s, and both had lunch counters. Everyone got their ice cream at Howard Johnson’s with the orange roof. There were separate pickups for garbage and trash (my father used gallons of creosote “donated” by his employer, Boston Edison, to disinfect the backyard, in-ground garbage pail.Years later, we found out it was a cancer-causing agent.) There were “S&H Greenstamps,” which everyone received at the store but were never able to redeem, plastic slipcovers for furniture, and lace doilies for the “good” tables. The liquor stores were called “packies” (because, by law, nothing could leave there unless concealed in a brown paper bag) and pharmacies sold “medicinal liquor” on Sundays. (A lot of people got sick on Sun- days.) Sub sandwiches were called “spukies,” sarsaparilla and “grass- hoppers” were served at pharmacy counters like Colby’s drugstore in Mattapan Sq. The Oriental Theatre on Blue Hill Ave. (now Capitol Electric) was THE best theatre in Boston, bar none, with a fake, moving sky with clouds and stars and green-eyed Buddha statues on the walls. My neighbor, Frankie Deegan, got a job there as an usher; he’d sneak us in through the back door on Saturdays to save the 25- cent admission. SkippyWhite’s sold records, and home living-room stereo/turntables could be the size of a military footlocker, or bigger. We lived through the three “B’’s in Mattapan: blockbusting, From Survive on page 23 How did we survive?…