to be when I grew up. I had no idea. “Maybe you could join the Civil Service," he
suggested. I didn’t know what Civil Service was, but as it turned out I did exactly that.
For a time my father installed store window displays for Chesterfield
cigarettes. He made posies and fancy streamers using colored crepe paper,
arranging them to draw the eye to intricately stacked fake cigarette packages and to
a poster with an advertising message. In 1932 or 1933, he operated a small candy
store on Queen City Pavement. In the “back room," there was an off-the-track
horse race gambling operation
(called “bookmaking" then), which
was illegal at that time. I went
there once or twice and Dad gave
me candy bars. I like to believe
that my father did not own the
store but simply managed it.
Indeed, it is unlikely that he could
have acquired enough capital to
invest in such an enterprise. The
whole thing folded early on. My
father's next job, and last, was that
of insurance agent.
These isolated memories of
my father I had to dig deep to
retrieve. All told, he and I spent
very little time together. And yet,
he apparently made some mark on
me! I’ve been a dabbler in music
all my life and the ukelele was
among my early musical
influences. While not creatively
artistic, I do have a modicum of
ability in graphic presentation. I
suppose my father’s love of reading
had a positive influence on me although I have never been the avid reader that he
impressed me as being. When Dad was in the sanatorium for tuberculars, he was
involved with a newsletter, indicating a penchant for written communication. I, too,
have often worked on editorial projects both in my job and by avocation.
My father gave me certain physical characteristics as well: light hair, fair
complexion, blue eyes, slight build (at least one of his Army buddies called him
“Little Bit") and short stature (he was five-six but I am all of five-seven-and-a-half!).
26
Charles Webster Rohrer, CWR's father, in World War I, 1917.
