Month: June 2017

Genetics and Heredity

When I was in the 5th grade one of our lessons was about genetics and how living things inherit traits from their parents. One evening I asked my dad how this worked and what it means to inherit a trait from parents. He decided to illustrate it by an example using an incident he said happened to him as a boy while working on the family farm in West Virginia. Here is the story as told by Dad:

“One day I was feeding the pigs when a mean old pregnant sow decided to attack me. There happened to be an empty barrel in the field with the head removed. In order to escape the sow I squatted down and pulled the barrel upside down over my head. This confused the sow and she walked back and forth and staggered around the barrel in circles looking for me, and in the process she backed up to the barrel. I was looking out through the bung hole watching her, and when she backed up to the barrel I reached out, grabbed her tail, pulled it through the bung hole, and tied it into a knot. At that point she panicked and ran away, pulling the barrel off of me and dragging it around by her knotted tail. For several days she ran around the farm dragging that barrel by her tail.”

“Several weeks later she had a litter of 12 little pigs and each one had a keg attached to its tail. That is an example of inheritance.”

If I really wanted to get the straight stuff all I had to do was ask my dad!

Excuses

My mother was a writer and humorist among her many other achievements. (see the post “Edith Lang Roliff”) She believed that laughter was the best kind of medicine – especially if you can laugh at yourself.

As I was looking through Mom’s many papers and newspaper articles I found these notes. It appears that even when she wrote a note to excuse her children from school she just couldn’t resist adding a bit of humor. Here is a note she wrote to the school principal Oliver Payne to excuse my brother Mark for early release:

And here is a note she wrote in pidgin-german for the same purpose:

I believe the first note is valid since Mr. Payne initialed it. I’m not sure about the second one. Maybe he was just too tickled to sign it!

In case the scans of the originals are illegible, here is the text typed out.

English version:

May 31, 1962

Dear Mr. Payne,

Mark may leave school after tests if:

1- It does not take him longer than 15 minutes to pass the Goody Shop.

2- He turns to the left at corners 224  and 44, and halts at 4027 Waterloo.

3- He promises to wash the windows, gather the eggs, clean the house, mow the lawn, start the supper and in the meantime, stay out of mischief.

He has my permission to walk, run, ride, and fly home, if he keeps one foot on the ground at all times.

I hope that I thought of everything.

E. Roliff

————

Pidgin-German version:

May 31, 1962

Herr Payne,

Las das kleinen Mark from der tests home ge-kommin. Das grass ben needin der cutting and mowen to preventin das wildebeasts from der prey ge-stalkin. Das hamsters ben home ge-starvin mit groanen and squealin, and a fit ge-pitchen. Das breakfast dishes ist on der table ge-standin. Das garbage ist ge-spoilen and over ge-running. Der mutter ben thinkin das boy needs der salt ge-earning.

E. Roliff

 

Old Codgers

Mr. Chris

Mr. Chris was the owner of the Sohio gas station located across the street from our house in Randolph. He was a gruff old German, and looked like Don Rickles after someone had beaten  him with an ugly stick. He also had a temperament to match. Almost everyone in town was afraid of him for very good reason. He was known to physically beat the tar out of anyone who disagreed with him or gave him any lip. Because of his sour personality he had everyone in town intimidated – everyone that is, except my dad.

One time Mr. Chris got into a fight with a customer from out of town, over what I don’t remember. Mr. Chris and the customer ended up rolling around in the mud in front of the gas station trying to choke each other. During the fracas somehow Mr. Chris bit the other man’s thumb. I don’t remember if he bit the thumb completely off or if it just was good and bloody, but the bite did serious damage to the man’s hand. Everyone was afraid to bring this incident up to Mr. Chris – except my dad. Every year on the anniversary of the bloody thumb fight Dad would find an old glove, cut the thumb halfway off, dip the thumb stub into a can of red paint, put it on his right hand and go over to the station and shake hands with Mr. Chris, at the same time wishing him a happy anniversary. He was the only person in town who could do something like this and still stay alive.

We had two doctors in the area, one was my uncle Walter Lang who was about about 5 feet tall. The other was Dr. Silbiger, the town GP, who was Jewish. One time Mr. Chris became ill and had to spend time in the hospital. My father went to visit him, and asked him how he was being treated. Mr. Chris replied gruffly, “At 5 in the morning when I am trying to sleep I keep getting pestered by the goddamn nurses who want to check my armpits, look down my throat, take my blood, give me a shot, and stick a thermometer up my ass. Then the doctors come in. First the Jew comes in to check me over, and then the Shrimp comes in and does the same damn thing. Between the Jew, the Shrimp and the nurses a man can’t get no damn sleep around here!”

Mr. Jake

One morning I was hanging out in the post office where my mother was working when I heard this strange noise out in front. It sounded like someone was scraping a piece of metal against the sidewalk. When I looked out the front window I saw the old farmer Mr. Jake coming up the steps. On his right foot instead of a shoe he had tied a bread pan. Inside the pan surrounding his bare foot was a generous helping of very fresh cow manure. He explained to Mom that he had stepped on an old board in his barnyard and a nail had pierced his foot. He said that the manure would draw out the soreness and cause the wound to heal.

I don’t know if Dr. Oz or Bristol-Myers ever heard of this cure, but it appeared to be effective since Mr. Jake didn’t need an amputation or develop lock-jaw. This method seemed to work since there were no further infections to the foot or other complications that couldn’t be cured by a good hot bath and a half-gallon of Chanel No. 5.