Learning to listen

Growing up in St. Louis was a good learning experience. I was born in Kirkwood, and later our family moved to University City just one block from Washington University. My parents were good parents who enjoyed life. They would not stay inside all day. They would rather entertain friends and neighbors. My father was not shy and would talk to anyone. Mostly he would talk to people he didn't know, and when the conversation ended he told himself that the other person was smart and that he was glad to have had a chance to visit with him.

In the mid-1950s, my parents were having friends over for a barbecue. My brother John and I asked my dad is it was possible for us to start the grill. My dad said yes and told us to be careful. While my parents were visiting with friends, my brother and I were ready to start the grill. We put enough charcoal in the grill to last for the cookout. When it came to using lighter fluid, we decided to use gasoline instead. We soaked the coals with gasoline. I thought the family wanted to start the grill right away, but they wanted to wait until they got hungrier.

I am glad the grill was on the brick patio away from the house. My dad came over to start the fire. He lit a match and threw it into the grill. Flames shot almost 20 feet into the air. I am glad there wasn't a tree nearby, because the blaze could have set the tree on fire. When the fire calmed down, my dad wanted to know what happened. You can't lie to your parents. You have to tell them the truth, no matter what happens.

My dad never raised his voice or punished us in public. He always took us to the side. This time, however, he took us to the garage. Before he would talk to us about what we did, he took out handkerchiefs from his pockets and put them in one of our ears. I didn't know that he meant by making us have the handkerchiefs in our ears. At this point Dad started talking. He wanted to know whose idea it was to use gasoline in the grill. We told him we both had the idea and didn't think it was wrong, because we both thought the gas would start the fire.

Dad told us that what we did was dangerous and that someone could has been hurt. Afterward, John and I told him we wouldn't use gasoline in the grill but would stick with plain old lighter fluid. Dad told us we could take out the handkerchiefs and told us he hoped the information would stay in. I guess by placing the handkerchiefs in our ears he thought it would block the information from coming out. Our dad wanted to make sure it was going to stay in.

Wouldn't it be nice if you could tell your politicians to put a handkerchief in their ears and then talk? Maybe they would remember what you said.

Thomas P. Gleeson III is a Jackson resident.