My first faint memory is of running through the house laughing wildly and being chased. I would later learn that this my mother’s father, my grandfather Louis. I have no other memories of him as he would die of colon cancer while I was still very young.
One of first clear memories was lying in the grass, enjoying a warm summer day, looking up at the sky and marveling at what a wonderful world I lived in. This sense of optimism is a defining trait. Associated with this optimism was the confidence that I could improve the world and make it a better place. I understood at some ridiculously young age that people were neither angels nor demons but some combination thereof and my job was to bring out the angel in everyone.
I was born the oldest child of six. My dad was the oldest child of nine and my mom was the youngest of three. This meant I was surrounded by literally hundreds of relatives who were always supportive and encouraging no matter what crazy thing I was pursuing. I had a plethora of nicknames in my family including Little Curt, Lefty, and Patch.
My childhood was happy, carefree, and injury free with two exceptions:
- My dad built a plywood swing under an old oak tree for us. Sounds benign except it had a six foot diameter and the rope suspending it was twenty feet or so. I got to pushing it as high as I could not understanding how fast and with what force that swing would be moving. Everything was under control until it was not and I was launched into the air when it made contact with my head. My frantic mom found me covered in blood and knocked out. A trip to the emergency room and stitches ensued and I gained a real world understanding of momentum. Mom blamed Dad and the swing was taken down against the protests of the kids.
- There is an intersection near May Howard Elementary School that could be dangerous back in the day before they reengineered it. A driver was not paying attention and ploughed into us with my mom driving and I in the front seat. This was before seat belts were mandatory so no one was wearing them. I smashed into the dash of the car and while I felt fine, mom insisted we go to the emergency room and I get an MRI.
We lived on Wilmington Island which at this time was still quiet and rural. In 1970, about 3,000 people lived on the island. Today, 15,000 people live on the island. We had a 1920s house on the water with a 0.75 acre lot. For a young kid, this was huge area of exploration and wonder. I was stung so many times by bees that I believe I became immune to their sting. It was not their fault as I was constantly trying to catch them in jars. The treatment for bee stings was chewed up tobacco at that time. It was messy but very effective.
We had a maid and handyman. The maid took care of me and just like everyone else in my life at this time, really cared about me. The handyman, regrettably got drunk, fell in the river and could not swim. He died. Somehow was I sheltered from this tragedy.
My cousins Donna and Leslie Sievers lived about ten houses away and were constant companions at the house. We swam, dove off the dock, played tag in the water, fished, crabbed, climbed trees, drank honeysuckle nectar, and played every imaginable sport and game. I suspect Man Hunt (hide & seek) at night was our favorite. We grew up together.
Donna and Leslie’s parents, Mike and Nancy Sievers, were my closest uncle and aunt in part because they were always over at the house to play canasta with my parents or just chat. They were kind, caring, and consistently supportive of my endeavors.
My material grandmother, Mary (Robider) Sievers (nickname Mimi), was a frequent babysitter. She was rather strict and blunt. She had a house on 48th Street that we would visited periodically. She was a member of Blessed Sacrament Church and would walk to church everyday during my youth. I have wondered if I would have met Eileen earlier if I had accompanied her to Blessed Sacrament in my youth.
Mimi, my mom and I would visit Mimi’s mother, Theresa Robider in the nursing home from time to time. Theresa was very kind to me and she would only share her chocolate covered cherries with me. I really enjoy sweets but chocolate covered cherries were too sweet for even me.
My paternal aunts (Rebecca, Margaret, Edith (Boots), Joan, June) and uncles (Bud, Larry, Jerry) and an army of cousins would come over to the house on major holidays and we would have a blast together. Baseball, football, swimming, jumping off the dock, and eating a never-ending supply of family-prepared food ensured that we would sleep well that night. Baseball games between the kids and uncles were quite fun because the uncles just wanted us to have fun. I was surrounded by a lot of people who cared about me and knew me for all my strengths and weaknesses. Mom would REALLY stress out about cleaning the house and no one cared.
A “Normal” Carver Thanksgiving from 2011
My best friend was my brother Corey. He was 13 months younger than me and we were always together. He is more athletic. I am smarter. We complimented each other well and both had enough empathy and emotional maturity to get along well. Damian was four years younger and he was always trying to hang with Corey and I. This translates to he was always trying to do things that were age-inappropriate for him. I suspect it made him very tough for his age.
My other best friend Joey Pollak lived in Wilmington Park which was close as well. Joey and I went to Nativity School together. We would hang out together mainly at his house for two reasons: (1) meals were more predictable (better – his grandmother Anna Modestino ran Anna’s Little Napoli); and, the chaos of my house was much more subdued. There will be more on Joey in the Teenage Years.
The Carver kids’ daily routine was get up too early (for us), go to school, come home and play outside until it was dark (or later). Football, baseball, and basketball would be played frequently. Homework occurred somewhere and then we were back outside. Dinner occurred somewhere and then we were back outside. Actually all meals occurred at random times. Rinse and repeat.
Because we lived on the water, the saying went we could swim at three, ski at ten, and by eleven we were trying to kill each other skiing. I could swim at three. We learned to swim by being thrown in by our parents. I could ski early and there was not an extensive explanation of what to do. We just figured it out. The same was true for inner tubing. Shortly thereafter, if you moved outside the wake of the boat while skiing, you were subject to the driver slinging you into the marsh through a power curve, or a shrimp boat, or a dock. We would use geometry to cut corners and pull you on land at speed. We preferred to ski or inner tube in Turner’s Creek or over by Skidaway Island. Occasionally we would head towards to Thunderbolt, Bull Creek, or Wassaw Island The skiing stories are on the Teenage Years page with a special section on Father David.
As a youth, I attended Nativity Elementary School where I played almost every sport with great enthusiasm and limited skill. Football, baseball, soccer, basketball, were all played and enjoyed. I was not the first person picked on a team nor the last but somewhere in the anonymous middle.
I was involved with Cub Scouts which was ok but things really got interesting with Boy Scouts. I immensely enjoyed camping, hiking, and being outside in bad weather. We would camp monthly throughout the region including Camp Strachan, Fort Pulaski National Monument, Francis Marion National Forest, Okefenokee Swamp, and Ocmulgee Mounds National Historical Park.
Just a side note but I have been attacked by only three animals in my life: two snakes and a fish. The first two times I panicked and the third time I was chill. All of these occurred as a youth. Let’s explore Curt and animal attacks:
- Attack of the Rattlesnake: The first time happened on a rare family outing to Fort Pulaski National Monument. I was quite young and with my mom and dad. I suspect Corey was there and the rest of the kids had not been born yet. It was about dusk and as we drove in the main road to Fort Pulaski, we came across a monstrous eastern diamondback rattlesnake in the road which attacked the car. Mom and I lost it. Dad just kept driving over the snake over and over again until it was dead and then secured on the hood of the car and drove it back to Carver’s Drug Store. In my young mind, I remember a snake the width of the road (24 feet) and so heavy my dad struggled to secure it on the car. Given the largest ever recorded rattlesnake was 8 feet and 34 pounds, let’s assume it was about that size. Animals 1, Curt 0
- Attack of the Black Racer: While camping with the Boy Scouts later in life at Fort Pulaski National Monument. I was attacked by a black racer. They are not poisonous and I was obviously too close to it during its mating season. It did not want competition? Anyway, I did not freak out. I knew what it was and just moved away as it attacked me. Animals 1, Curt 1
- Attack of the Redfish: On a family vacation to Myrtle Beach, South Carolina, I and my siblings were playing in the waves when I experienced the most alien feeling of my life. Something, ALIVE, had swum up into my swimming trunks and was franticly trying to reverse course and get out. I had no idea what it was and was franticly trying to get out of the water. It ended up being a young 12-18 inch Redfish. The encounter ended in a frantic but mutually amiable divorce. Animals 2, Curt 1.
As a side note, I will even the score by saving my brother Mark’s life as a teenager. That, however, is a story in my teenage years.
Although it is not as common today, building things like models, rockets, and electronic devices were a passion during my early years. The perimeter of my bedroom was filled with military models I had built. Joey and I, under the careful watch of his dad, would build rockets and go to Memorial Stadium to launch them over the weekends. The Healthkit GC1107 clock is still working on and my home office desk some 55 years later. I am surprised my youngster soldering skills were sufficient and the clock is still working after 20 moves around the world. I found the assembly manual online if you want an idea of that amount of soldering and assembly involved. The Yoda wobble head came much later.
My dad owned and ran Carver Drug Store. In the 1960s, it was THE stop before and after going to the beach. Think of Carver Drug Store as a combination grocery store, pool hall, and hardware store. It had something for everyone. Since Dad was always working at the store, if we wanted to see Dad, we would go to the store. As a result, I became rather good at pool at an early age. If Dad was not at the store, my Mom or my grandmother Mimi would be at the store.
Carver Drug Store was very popular and Dad expanded the store. Teenagers would hang out at the store after school and especially on Friday and Saturday nights. This would continue until 1969 when the store blew up and our lives would change forever.
A fire started in 1969 at the store when it was closed. The firefighters put out the fire and walked across the street to Chu’s to grab a cup of coffee. Unbeknownst to them, a gas line had burst in the heat. Once the gas spread and found the embers of fire, an explosion destroyed the store completely. I was eight at the time and we heard the explosion from two miles away as the house shook from the explosion. We had no babysitter and we moved to our parent’s bedroom to shelter from whatever had just occurred.
The next six months were tough for the family. Dad had lost most everything and did not have sufficient insurance for what was lost. After six months, he got a job installing carpet at Culver Rug Company. That lasted one day as installing carpet is very hard work and he was 40 at the time. As the story goes, he walked to the front office and told them he could not install carpet long term but he could sell it. Earle Culver did not know my Dad but offered him a position with no salary and 6% commission on sales. Little did we know that Earle’s modest offer of trust would change our lives. But that is a tale for my teenage years.