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Making Mountains Out Of Molehills or Thar’s Tin In Them Thar Hills…

Story ID:8658
Written by:Charles Dishno (bio, contact, other stories)
Story type:Musings, Essays and Such
Location:Dillon Montana USA
Year:2013
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OurEcho Preface This post deals with a mature theme or contains explicit language. While the post is not extremely violent or pornographic, it does contain language or explore a subject matter that may offend some readers. If you do not wish to view posts that deal with mature themes, please exit this post.
More memories from my past in Bly...


Making Mountains Out Of Molehills or Thar’s Tin In Them Thar Hills…
By Chuck Dishno
January 2013

In the summer of 1948 I was living by myself in my hometown, Bly, Oregon. My Mom and Pop let me stay home while they went to California where Pop worked as a timber faller.

They trusted me to take care of myself since I had a job as a projectionist at Arch Theater in Bly. I was a very trustworthy lad, or so they thought. My life revolved around fishing, swimming at the old swimming hole and working at the theater. Girls were not even on my agenda. I had too many other exciting things to do. I also had my dog, Wags, who was my constant companion. The biggest problem I had was feeding myself. I defiantly wasn’t a cook and after burning a few meat items and potatoes I decided that I could subsist on Franco American canned tamales. Mom had set up a charge account at one of Bly’s two grocery stores where I could by my tamales and Skippy dog food for Wags. Bly did have a restaurant but I was only making $1.60 a night running the projectors. Actually it was $2.00 a night but the theater owner kept 40 cents out for taxes. Pretty high taxes for the 1940’s and I think part of it was his “pocket tax”, but who was I to complain. I always had money in my pocket and I hadn’t found about girls or beer at that early time in my life.

This all changed late in summer when I was talking to a girl, who will remain nameless, after the movie and she asked me to walk her home. She lived just up the road and when we got to my house, she was commenting about all the musical instruments stacked in the corner of my living room. She had taken piano lesions from my Grandmother and wondered if they were still there. Being the perfect gentleman I was, I asked her in.

We went inside and I as I was showing her all the instruments, I couldn’t help noticing that she seemed to have filled out quite a bit from a few days before. Her blouse was poking out more than I had remembered. I was fascinated and it wasn’t long before she sidled up to me and asked for a kiss. This was all new to me and I figured, what the heck, it may be better than fishing.

We exchanged a kiss or two but I was still fascinated by that perky blouse. Before long, I put an arm around her shoulder and let my hand slip down her front and under the blouse. Yipes! Something bit me and when I rapidly pulled my hand out my thumb was bleeding. She turned around and gave me a hard slat on the face. She then said that she wanted to go home and I didn’t need to walk her any further.

I found out a couple of days later that she was wearing a wire-training bra, which gave her the perky look. This was all new to me and I just chalked it up to a learning experience and devoted the rest of the summer to fishing and tamales. At least when I grabbed a fish, I didn’t run the risk of getting my face slapped.

A couple of days later a friend asked me about the Band-Aid on my thumb. I told him the story swearing him to secrecy but to no avail. It wasn’t long before the entire school population knew about my mishap. The guys thought it was hilarious and whenever we would see her coming our way someone would say, “Watch out, Charlie, here comes old Tin Tit.”

I survived rest of the summer and anxiously waited for Mom to come home to feed me a good old home cooked meal.

I never did date or walk the girl home again I only needed to get bit once. She moved on the next year and left me with only a memory

The next year, my two brothers, Shad and Bud, returned from the war unscathed. I was the only one who was wounded in action.

A few years from now when I finally pass through those Pearly Gates, I will be on the lookout for Angels with wire training wings.