On the Patio: Taxi Cab Murders

There was a time in the early '60's, a time of no concern. I was a youngun', only knew what I was told. And I was expected to do what I was told. There was no way out of that. A report card from the 2nd grade was taken home to be signed by my mom and dad and returned to Miss Elliot's class. Instead, the card was returned to Mr. Cooper, the principal, by my dad with me in tow. Seems I had flunked conduct on that report card. Dad insisted on setting things right.

I remember staring

at Mr. Copper's shoes the whole time during that meeting. I recall them as black wingtips, no kilt, and what seemed to be a size, oh... "longer than my leg." I said, "Yes sir" at the appropriate times and promised to do better and not talk when Miss Elliot said not to, etc. As a bonus, my dad informed Mr. Cooper that as a disciplinary measure, I would be putting some hours in at the Mobil service station without pay so that I would be taught a lesson. I think I snickered at that. If I had known the words at that time, I would have thought, "Well shit fuck, whooped-dee-fuckin-do! So what's new with that? I already work there for free." A bonus when you're that owners kid.

Yeah, me 2nd grade, right after school on Friday 'till when ever, then Saturday into Saturnight. I think dad started the first 24 hour gas station idea in Houston, seriously. I remember pulling a few of those shifts during the summers.

Dad had some characters working for him at the Mobil, too. Some were war buddies needing a job, some from AA, and some that dad still drank with. (I guess AA was there when he needed it.) Two characters that worked there I will never forget, even though I don't recall their first names, just the last, Youngblood, the Youngblood brothers. They were tattooed and had greasy hair. Both of them always had a cigarette in their mouths. They were always horse-playing with each other, sneaking up and knocking the hell out of the other one. All they ever did to me was pinch the hell out of my arm.

After a shift, the Youngblood's would give me a ride home, they felt sorry for me having to work for free and walk home too. We would get into the '49 red Ford pick-up, me in the middle and take me home at 6 am. So, I'm maybe 7 years old, doing allnighters at a gas station in Houston, Texas, at the corner of O.S.T. and Tierwester, or O.S.T. and Scott. For free, because I flunked conduct.

During that time, there was a series of murders around town, cabbies being murdered for their fares. Of course, I was unaware of current events such as that. I got all of my news from Marvel and DC comics.

One night dad had to go back to the Mobil station because the night help, the Youngbloods, had not shown up to relieve the day help, Leonard and Josh. I went with him that night and there were police cars everywhere. One cop said they found about half a dozen wallets on top of the Mobil station, belonging to the cabbies that had been murdered recently. The Youngblood brothers had told the cops the wallets were there and they had been arrested for those murders.

Hit me with a brick. I was seven, but I knew what murder was. All I could think about was how close I was to the murderers. No, I was not allowed to stop working. Either Leonard or Josh would take the night shifts and I would be working with one of them.

When the shift was over at 6am, one of them would drive me home in that '49 red Ford pick-up.