I don't have too many memories of my early childhood. However, a couple come to mind. To put me into the scheme of things, here's where I fall into the "Dunne Cookie Factory". I remember that we use to answer the phone: "Dunne's cookie company, which crumb do you want?"

1. Gin

2. El

3. Kath

4. Marion

5. Ed (actually Walter Edward, but because Dad's name was also Walter, we called him Ed.)

6. Paul

7. Tad (Actually Thomas Aquinas Dunne, hence TAD)

8. Michael ««««««««««««««« (That's me!)

9. Marg

10. Bob

17374 Parkside was our home address. UN 13509 was our phone number. "UN" stood for "University". All phone numbers had an abbreviated name before the numbers. Tad and I shared the back bedroom (the one with the porch next to the tree where we could escape). Tad had the top bunk and I had the bottom. I used to both rock and sing myself to sleep each night. Tad quickly told my that I could either rock or sing, not both. Well, I chose rocking. Ahh! a singing career down the tubes. Thanks Tad.

Do you know what a "gligly car" is? 

School

I don't remember if it was kindergarten or 1st grade but mom took me to Gesu school for my first day. I remember she took me to the gym where all the other kids were gathered. She must have told me to pay attention and do what the teachers told me, then she left. I remember asking her why all the other kids were crying and holding on to their parents pleading not to leave. I said "good bye" realizing that first, I had instructions and second, I knew how to get home. I didn't see the big deal of going to school and why all the kids were crying.

Mathematician. I am not

Mom was my tutor in the multiplication tables. I remember sitting at the kitchen table night after night trying to learn the multiplication tables. I wasn't very good at it. She would ask me "what is 5 times 6". My answer was "27? . . 44? . . 18?" I hadn't a clue. I did figure that if I keep saying "27", the odds were that I would be right at least once. I remember the frustration in her face but couldn't figure out why. Today, I know the answer is "around 30"

Daily gathering

Dinner was an event. Dad at the head of the table and mom at the foot. The dictionary, with its own stand, which must have weighted 100 pounds (slight exaggeration) should someone use a word that someone else didn't know the meaning of. Dad was a fiend about words.

After dinner, we would say the rosary. Whoever was at the table took turns saying a decade of the rosary. I have a confession to make. If I could sneak out the back door before the rosary started, I ran as fast as I could to Jimmy O'Donnell's house down the street. I do remember that after dinner, Paul would go to the kitchen and have a bowl of cereal. 

Golf Career

My Dad loved to golf. As a young lad, he would take me golfing in Windsor, Canada. I must have been a teen-ager by then. While any athleticism must have come from Dad, I wasn't doing too bad. He was a great teacher and role model. What I really remember is that after the round, we would go back to the car to return to the USA. Out came the Bushmills, six to eight bottles stuffed under the back seat. We would merrily go through Customs and declare nothing.

Discipline - early years and later

Discipline was with the "black belt". When we did something wrong (it had to be pretty bad), Mom would give us a choice. Either spend the rest of the day in our room or go to the basement for a few smacks with the "black belt" across the bottom. I usually took the belt as then I could go out and play.

The much tougher discipline came later as I was a bit older. This was a discipline of words. It was also a discipline of disappointment. While I didn't have a very close personal relationship with the police, I was escorted home by them a couple of times. Mom or Dad, in their night clothes, would come to the door to find Sergeant so-and-so giving them back their son. After I explained my side of the story, either would say. . "you know better, or I'm disappointed in you". That's all. I dreaded those words. The hurt couldn't have been any worse than hitting me with a shovel. They were truly a deterrent.

"There are things you have to do"

This is another discipline story. I was attending the University of Detroit when my Dad's sister died. For a lot of reasons that I can only recall as "not enough time, too busy, had to study, etc", I didn't go to the funeral. The next day, he took me aside and quietly reminded me that I should have shown up at the funeral as "there are things you have to do". I will never forget those seven powerful words, or the person who delivered them.

Ishkabibble

Do you know what "Ishkabibble" means? Ask Marg, I forgot.

High School

I went to Catholic Central High School on Outer Drive in Detroit. The school is now in Redford. Tad was two years ahead of me so when I entered "CC", we would go to school together, if one of his friends who had a car drove. Does anyone know what "hallabaloo kaneck kaneck means"? Maybe I'm not spelling it right?

College

I went to U of D as I could walk to class every day and come home for lunch. Our house on Parkside was only 1/2 a mile from the university. I wasn't a brilliant student. . . or even a semi brilliant student. . . or, some might say, not even a semi student. With the exception of a small misunderstanding with the University about campus rules, my grades improved as I moved from the Freshman to Senior years. During my tenure at the University, they thought it better that I sit out a semester to contemplate the errors of my ways. As a result of this contemplation, I am able to type this memories. That is, I taught myself to type. "I love you Tommy Emmet" (Dean of Students). 

Pull My Finger 

Ask Tad.

Great Inventions

With the house full of kids, when the phone rang, everybody thought it was for him/her. Once you answer and it's not for you, then what do you do? How do you know if your brother/sister is even in the house? You call in one of the brother-in-laws to install the "buzzer" system. There was a buzzer on each floor that one rang to signal your brothers/sisters that the phone was for them. My ring was six. Buzz, Buzz, Buzz, Buzz, Buzz, Buzz! Thanks Red! 

Prince and Jerry

Someone in our family liked pets. I KNOW it wasn't my mom. We had a cocker spaniel named Prince and a brittany spaniel named Jerry, probably among others. While Prince was a gentle dog, Jerry was wild and excitable. Once Jerry saw the back door open, off he went. We may not see him literally for days.

He was always running off. One day, Dad was coming home from work and he spotted Jerry on the Detroit Golf Club fairway. His route home, Six Mile Road, ran along side the Golf Club. He stopped the car and proceeded to chase Jerry. After several failed attempts, he finally collared the dog and dragged him back to his car. He pulled into the driveway and carefully held the dog so he wouldn't escape again. As he entered the back door, what was staring him in the face. . . but Jerry. He had chased and captured the wrong, but identical, dog. 

Snoring

I'm told by the one I love that I tend to snore a bit. Well, it may be a little more than a bit. OK, I snore a lot. I do remember waking up in the night to hear a lion in mom and dad's bedroom. It really frightened me. It, of course, turned out to be dad. Discussing this with some of my siblings (that's my brothers and sisters) is that we all snore. Thanks dad. (ps: It really is a nice snore)

This great narrative will be continued at the reunion. Hope to see everyone there.