CHAPTER NINETEEN—BICYCLES, BOOKS, AND FATHER McMAHON

     One summer, possibly the year the volunteer fire department was organized, my friends Paul Kuty, Raymond Kuty and Alan Monowitz were the lucky recipients of new 3-speed English bicycles. What a sensation! Compared to the old single-speed bike, a bicycle with 3-speed gearing was a big leap into the future. Young Richard Kuty was "left out," but he was too small to ride a 26-inch bike. He had a 20-inch bike which I often used when he was not using it. I learned to ride his bike when I was eleven years old. A year later my mother bought me a 24-inch bicycle. Watch out! This Palmer boy was Mercury on wheels! But I could never keep pace with Paul and Raymond Kuty unless they slowed down. I was always a good distance behind them as they peddled on the roads in Continental Village and beyond.

     On another subject, my mother had a small home library, consisting of two or three shelves of her favorite books. Among the books was a 12-volume set called "My Book House." It included stories such as “The Little Engine That Could.” It was illustrated, and the drawings and stories gave my young imagination a starting point to wander from our here to other places. My mother had a book by Catholic author G. K. Chesterson, a Catholic New Testament, a stack of Reader's Digest paperbacks, a dictionary, a world encyclopedia and several books written by Louis Broomfield.

     There were also two books by James Fenimore Cooper: "The Pathfinder" and "The Last of the Mohicans." I used one of these books to write a book report in 1955 for my high school English teacher, Father Bernard McMahon, who taught English at Archbishop Stepinac High School in White Plains, N. Y. I was given a good grade with some interesting comments in the margin. I would donate all my old animal traps to the Catholic Church if I could reread that book report today, and see his comments in the margin. He had a wonderful sense of humor.

     Father McMahon was a molder of youth, and an inspiration to all who knew him. He gave Catholic students at Archbishop Stepinac High School the license to say “Bastard” or “Whore-Master” as they recited Shakespeare in class. The recitals were sometimes hilarious. Father McMahon also produced and directed the annual school play, and guided his star-searching students Alan Alda and Jon Voight on the path to successful acting careers.