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Note: Although Louie never graduated from HS he was pretty good at arithmetic. He was an avid golfer, sometimes playing 36 holes per day on weekends. His mates were "Red" Mucha, "Green" Zielny, Googo and Gooly. His first car was a used 1940 Buick he bought from Brussario for $100.oo and that is the car I learned to drive. It had a floor shift! It had four doors, a large trunk and was colored black. Louie worked 42 years at General Motors retiring at age 61.5 with a pension and a desire to play the ponies at racetracks. After retirement he helped the church in Flushing by driving to places and picking up donations from homes. He developed high blood pressure and took meds or it. He curbed his heavy drinking about then. In his younger years he would play cards every Friday night at Al;l Saints with the infamous Holy Name Society. Then golf on Saturday and Sunday. Each of those days he's come home drunk. Drink orange juice and sit and watch TV and go to bed. He never missed a day of work due to hangovers. Louie turned down an opportunity once to become a foreman at GM. Claimed he did not wish to boss his friends. Those friends also played cards in the shop with him. ******************************************************************************************* SOD I called him Dad, however, to all his friends he was known fondly as �SODx. At times he was just plain �Louie.x Some people thought Sod was a short version of Sadowski. Maybe. I like another version best. Read on. Sod died on the last day of July 1992 of a heart attack. He lived 78 years. This chapter is dedicated to his memory. The vitals statistics on Louis F. Sadowski from his Certificate of Live Birth - Michigan: Child�s Name: Ludwik Sadowski Date of Birth: July 7, 1914 Time of Birth: 2:00 AM Parents: Michael �Mikex Sadowski, born Russia-Poland Rosa Bienia, Born Auschwitz-Austria -Poland Mother�s Age: 24 Father�s Age: 29 Of course dad was Polish - we inherited the language and culture of his ancestors in Poland such as Jan Sadowscy,(sic) his grandfather. Dad�s parent�s immigrated to the USA and married in Michigan. Rose and Michael never learned to speak English. SCHOOL TIME Dad told me that the reason I was not taught the Polish language at home was because when he went to elementary school all he spoke was Polish and the kids and teachers made fun of him. He vowed never to have his children submit to that kind of harassment and thus my brother, Robert, and I grew up speaking English sprinkled with few words of Polish. The cultural aspects, such as the church traditions of our heritage were adhered to more strongly. Little is known about Louie�s school years at All Saints except for his language problem and that he had to quit his education after the 10th grade to work and help support the family. By 1925 dad�s siblings were: Stanley, Helen, Mary, Alexander and Phyllis. Mike and Rose Sadowski had six children in eleven years. GRANT STREET HOME Mike and Rose Sadowski initially resided on Gillespie Street in Flint, Michigan - a very nice looking two-story domicile. Dad could view the white painted house from his kitchen window when he lived on Carton Street. Dad said grandpa Mike lost the house during the Depression Era and moved the family to a large but less expensive home at 3613 Grant Street. Grant Street was adjacent to Buick Motors manufacturing and the Foundry - a dirty, grimy section of Flint. Food was stored in an icebox and cooking was done on a coal/wood-buring stove. Chickens ran around the back yard - food for the table soon! Grandma Rose was the person who did the killing and cleaning of the birds. Dad traveled to his jobs from Grant St. It�s during this time frame dad gets the tag of �Sodx - if in fact there is truth to the story - the nickname came from golfing terminology: The Sadowski trio of brothers, namely, Louis, Stanley and Alexander, were caddies at The Flint Golf Club. Club members christened the three brothers with the monikers of �Sod, Turf and Divot.x Dad�s nickname stuck with him for life. I personally like this story best for dad�s nickname. Alexander was called Alex or �Ikex. Stanley was called �Stan.x However, the good money was to made in the �shopsx, the factories of General Motors, and not as a caddie. Once dad turned 18 he applied and was hired by Chevrolet Motor Division by fibbing to the �hiring bossx on the day when the call went out for skilled workers. He did not have any skilled trade credentials! Dad liked to tell me that story because he claimed it showed guts. Thus began his forty-two year commitment to a life of daily routine in �the shops.x Dad�s longevity reward from Chevrolet was the clock-gift GM gives to employees of 25 years. After forty-two years I thought he deserved a new car! No. 32383 - Marriage License Louis & Emily Louis married Emily Urbanik of 814 Tilden Street on Thanksgiving Day, November 24,1938 - he was twenty-four years old and Emily was twenty-eight. His marriage license lists Stanley Sadowski and Apolonia Urbanik as witnesses. Rev. Dr. S. Bortnowski was the Pastor. Dad�s occupation was given as �factory workerx and Emily�s occupation was �dental assistant.x Like many married couples from that era their romantic beginnings were not talked about with the children. I was grown married man myself before I dared ask my parents about how their dating was done in the 1920s and 1930s. I was only trying to learn how they met and fell in love. The reply was swept away with a hand motion and some Polish words which I never understood. Many, many years later Mom told me the story about how she lost track of dad on their wedding day. For hours she had no idea where he was - she never even danced with him! Mom claimed that she walked, in her wedding dress, from Tilden Hall to their apartment that night after the merriment and celebration and there was dad! Waiting for her. That�s all mom remembers of the wedding day. LOUIE AND EMILY�S HOMES I was born on Dewey Street near the Saginaw Street Post Office which was across from Berston Field House. Months later, the folks moved into a one-bedroom house on the corner of Myrtle Street and Industrial Avenue. Cost: $900.00. There we spent the WWII years. Dad was exempted from the draft because I was an infant when Hitler invaded Poland and a toddler when Hirohito bombed Pearl Harbor and put us into the war. Dad made machine guns at the retooled AC Spark-Plug Plant. His unmarried brothers went into service. Mom remained at home taking care of me and the home front as did millions of other families. I remember blackout drills. I remember mom taking me to Nortown Theater and getting carnival dishes for the admission price. I have photos of me playing with toy machine guns on the back steps of the Grant St. home. I played �warx with Benny Blazkowski in the empty field between our two homes just as all the kids did during the war years - imitating life. Robert Paul, my only brother, was born post WWII on March 11, 1946. Louie and Emily had recently sold the Myrtle St. home and moved eight blocks south to 736 Carton Street. The two-bedroom with basement home cost $4500.00. The monthly mortgage was $30.00. Dad�s take home pay was $68.00 per week. This was the last home the folks would ever purchase. They lived on Carton St. until 1982. It was during those 36 years when events and relationships were made that contributed heavily to dad�s aka Sod�s reputation. During those 3.6 decades on Carton St. the nickname of �Sodx was truly cemented into the vocabulary of his closest friends at All Saints Church; The St. Joseph�s Society; with his fellow pool-room shooters and card players at Bojki�s; with other members of Dom Polski; with his drinking companions at White Eagles Bar & Bochanski�s Tavern - the more popular hangouts of the neighborhood. My most treasured memories originate from this era. I �d like to detail a few of my best recollections for you. THE HOLY NAME SOCIETY MEETINGS aka the Friday Night Poker Game Most readers know what a Sunday collection at Mass entails at a Catholic church. The years I recall best are 1948-1957. Dad was a member of The Holy Name Society at the old All Saints Church on Industrial Avenue. I was an altar boy. Sunday Masses were celebrated at 5, 6, 7, 8, 9:15 - Children�s Mass, 10:30 - Polish Sermon Mass and last Mass at 11:45AM a Mass during which maybe one or two courageous parishioners went to Holy Communion. That was Pre-Vatican Council days, remember, so in order to properly receive The Lord you fasted from food and drink from midnight! Few church goers could handle that length of time without food before fainting. Holy Name Society members took up the collections at these Masses and it was a honor and a privilege to serve. The men always looked forward to being dressed in 3-piece suits and walking up and down the aisles taking the ten-cent Offertory �seat collection.x After Communion they collected the main Sunday envelope donation. They actually made change for a parishioner on the spot if a handy dime was not readily available. The clicks and jingles of coins in those wicker baskets still play music in my head - like the special sounds of the incense burner periodically clanging against the chain during an evening procession for May Day or Vespers. Father Bortnowski, Pastor of All Saints Church until his death in 1955, would hold Friday evening Holy Name Society Meetings to discuss with the men the week�s receipts and any special plans for the coming week such as a Bishop�s Relief Collection. These weekly meetings were held on the second floor of the church hall - a brick building adjacent to the school. The windows of the meeting room looked out over the basketball court. That room was off-limits to non-members. Dad would eat dinner with the family on Friday evening and then he�d depart for the 8PM meeting. I know it�s hard to believe in these days, but mom and dad did not own an automobile until their 15th year of marriage so we all walked everywhere. About midnight dad would return from the meeting seeking a large glass of juice from our refrigerator and stagger to bed. As I grew older and became schooled in the way Holy Name Society meeting�s really worked I began to understand more fully why mom�s anger would flare after the Friday night dinner when dad left for the meeting. Apparently there was only fifteen minutes of a business meeting and the balance of the night was spent playing poker. And, of course, the whiskey and cigarette odor did not help the situation the next day. I have a very vague memory of being present at one or two of those mysterious meetings - but I cannot remember details. My information comes primarily from listening to dad explain his Friday night capers to mom for 15 years. It was dad who tried to justify the poker games at the meetings by saying Father �Bortx also sat in on the games! I assumed that because a priest was present it was okay to smoke, drink and gamble the night away - and for a few members such as dad, to go home with empty pockets. Dad taught me how to play poker, and by the time I was in the 9th grade at All Saints I was hosting my own card games on New Year�s Eve for my buddies. This might be called �like father, like son!x PAY-THE-PIPER DAY Saturday mornings on Carton St. were a time of financial reckoning. I came to understand why dad seemed to be broke most of the time and why mom berated him on those Saturday mornings. He was obviously not a Bat Masterson or Doc Holiday at the card table at those Holy Name Society Meetings. Generally dad lost more than he took in. Bills had to be paid on Saturday. Dad would grab a #10 envelope which one of the bills arrived in, sit at the kitchen table and on the back of the envelope he�d list bills along side the amount due. I watched and listened. Here�s a sample of dad�s budget: Any Saturday Zerka & Rassy (grocer)......$3.25 Consumer Power .....5.50 Flint Journal....1.00 Mortgage....10 - 30 �The Boxx(Mom�s funds)....10-20 Insurance....3.00 Gasoline....2.50 Cole�s Market..4.00 Kasper Shoes....1.20 Church envelope...2.00 Numbers...2.00 Expenses always seemed to exceed his weekly paycheck. That�s where �the boxx comes into this story. The box was under mom�s control because it was insurance monies she had collected to send to the PNA in Chicago. It served like a special bank for dad. Borrow from it to pay bills and pay it back later. It was a precursor to our modern day credit card. After settling everything with mom, dad would pack up and hop the bus for downtown and walk to each business and pay the bill. When he bought Brusarrio�s old 1939, 4-door, floor-shift Buick Sedan in 1954 he drove to town. The sedan cost $100.00. THE 19TH HOLE Saturday was golf day with dad�s famous foursome: Googoo, Gooley (the Ferrara brothers) and Red Mucha. Sometimes the neighbor, Joseph Zielny (aka Joe Green) would substitute for one of the missing missing Ferrara men. At the break of dawn they�d be off to Kearsley, Swartz Creek, Genesee Hills or Atlas Valley Golf Clubs. Each golf bag was small - all four golf bags fit easily into the trunk of the driver�s car. After Sunday Mass, another round of golf was played. Who doesn�t know about the sport of golf�s infamous �19th Hole?x The foursome played for a nickel a hole and double on birdies. The winner of the day�s golf game would buy the beers at the clubhouse. Ten bits, or $1.25, permitted a person day-long access at Kearsley Golf Course in 1950. Beers were 10 cent �shoopers.x For a five-spot in those years one could have a pretty good time of it! I learned how to play this gentleman�s game by watching these men and being a caddie for dad. I was an eager learner. In addition to mastering the general rules of the game `I learned terms like �massie, cleek, spoon, mid-iron, brassie� as names of the clubs. Today�s simple ordinal numbers like #2,#3, #4, etc. somehow lose the glamor of the older, more colorful nomenclature system. I learned from dad and his foursome how to pull out a few strands of grass and how to toss them into the air to assess the wind direction and velocity so that the next golf swing sent the ball where it was intended. I learned polite golf course etiquette, e.g., when to stand still and be silent, where to stand without casting a shadow on a ball�s lie, how to grasp the flag and pole and await the next person�s put, how to wash and tee-up a golf ball, and how to chide a mate when the ball sliced or hooked or worse - landed in the lake! This was the territory Sod savored with his buddies for years. They all smoked cigarettes. A common scene at any address of a golf ball was the tossed, lit, cigarette on the grass in front of the ball to be picked up after the swing and continue walking and puffing. Years later, team member Red Mucha developed emphysema but I saw him light up during a coughing fit on the course. Dad quit the habit once he was put on medications for high blood pressure. Knowing this tight-knit foursome/fivesome stands out in my mind as one of the best experiences of my youth. Those men were role models for me. I never realized how much I was influenced by this gang until years later. They taught me the meaning of being a friend and a true buddy. SOD THE PART-TIME BOOKIE The �numbers gamex with �Dream Booksx was a pasttime for many of the northend�s busias (grandmas), dziadeks(grandpas), cocias(aunts), matkas(mothers). Playing a dream number was a specialty for Rose Sadowski. Here�s how it worked: let�s say last night you dreamed about wolves . In the morning you would consult the Dream Book and look up the word �wolf.x A 3-digit number would be next to the word. You played this number. To �play a numberx meant that you would tell your favorite bookie three digits, e.g., 736 was our house number so mom would ask dad to �play 736 for a nickel.x Dad would write the ticket and give mom her �slipx, a piece of paper which had the amount bet, the number, and date. A �hitx meant that your number �came in.x Payouts were 500:1. The nickel bet would �payx $25.00 minus the bookie�s 10% commission. So had you placed bet through dad, he would give you, in cash, $22.50 and he would pocket $2.50. The daily winning number originated from a horse race. The winning number of the horse in the first three races comprised the winning set that the bookie had to pay off. That is the thumbnail description of the �numbers racket.x Yes, it was and still is an illegal operation. Dad was a part-time bookie - a numbers taker, one of perhaps dozens operating in the area. At the end of each day, all bookies dropped off the day�s collection - the money - to the main office. The �officex was always a legitimate fronted operation, such as a pool-hall or beer garden. If things got too �hotx for the bookies to make their nightly run, i.e., there was a chance of being arrested, then I made dad�s �dropx to the pool hall across from Bill Lasarski�s Market on Industrial Ave. I would hop on my bike, pockets bulging with tickets and money, and peddle to Bill�s Market and wait in front of the store. My high-sign or signal that is was or was not okay to hand over the money was the opening and closing of the pool hall�s front window blinds. If they flashed rapidly I was to get the hell out of there fast and head home. That signal meant that �dicksx, detectives, were inside and therefore it was �too hotx to make a successful drop. I was a naive part of this crime racket by default. When the Industrial Avenue pool hall shut down because of changing demographics, the operation moved to Monk�s Bait and Tackle Shop on Saginaw Street. His fishing and tackle store was the new front for the numbers operation. I did not realize at the time how serious and dangerous this business really could be until a decade later. Dad was never arrested in all of those number-running years. I do not know when he quit the business - I assume when he moved from Carton St. to Flushing. THE PONIES Louie retired from GM at age 61 1/2 in the year 1972 because �I wanted to make room for the younger guys.x Dad was unprepared for retirement. He had no avocations. The golf games were still played but the old gang was dispersed by death, illness or relocation. In 1968 Louie gave himself a double hernia by slipping on strong swing at a golf game at Kearsley. This slowed his game down a bit for a while. In 1972 my brother Bob was living in Florida and I was in Nevada with my wife and three daughters. Dad and mom were alone by this time and mom was rapidly becoming a home-bound person. A Sunday ride to church was the extent of local travel for the folks. Then dad discovers horse racing in a big way. A new set of buddies appear - a new vocabulary takes the place of the golf terms such as niblik and mid-iron. In its stead dad trades a score card for a racing form. In place of counting birdies and pars he tallies up the �tot board.x Knowing a horse�s �oddsx supplants �reading a putting green.x The Detroit Race Course (DRC) Sports Creek Raceway and Saginaw Race Track replace the golf course. Dad became addicted to the sport that bankrupted many a famous entertainment mogul. In addition to thoroughbred/sulky gambling he adds the Lottery. Dad lived 16 years in retirement, a long time filled primarily with days at a race track and in Meijer�s buying Lottery tickets. His series EE bonds purchased at GM when money was good and were now cashed in, and a bond a week came out of his checks to pay the pony�s hay bill. Once I asked dad how much he played the lotto and he replied �Only two or three dollars a day - that�s all!x I commented that was around a hundred bucks a month, and he brushed me aside with a glib �so whatx remark. The race track sojourns set dad back 30 to 50 bucks a trip. Mom confirmed that dad frequently bet at race tracks 3 to 4 times a week. After his death and burial, my brother and I had to close his accounts, including his safety deposit box in a Flushing bank. When we opened the safety box we found 25 silver dollars and some insignificant papers relating to his VISA card. That was it - not a single US Bond was left. The 25 silver dollars were his parent�s gift to mom and dad on their 25th Wedding Anniversary. Dad obviously had some sentiment about that money since he left them untouched. REQUIESTCAT IN PACE Rita and I always went over to dad and mom�s place on the last day of our trips to share a goodbye breakfast. Dad and mom would fix up the kitchen table with baked goods, cooked eggs, toast, juice and coffee. They insisted, as usual, Rita and I sit by ourselves and eat. That fateful morning Rita and I got a call at Mrs. Blood�s home (Rita�s mother) at 8AM. Mom said dad would not wake up - hurry over and check on him! My heart dropped because I knew dad must have died. Upon our arrival at the apartment, we found that dad�s sister Phyllis and his brother, Stanley had arrived. They were in the bedroom trying to push on dad�s chest. But when I touched his body it was very clear that rigor mortis was setting in, and that dad had died during the night . I went out of the bedroom and hugged mom and gently told her dad was in heaven. We all returned to dad�s bedroom to say our goodbyes with a prayer led by Rita�s brother, Stanley Blood. The local medics arrived soon afterwards to verify dad�s death. They called the family doctor who proclaimed dad dead of a heart attack. After wrapping him in a blanket they took the body to Reigle�s Funeral Home for preparation and burial. Uncle Stanley Sadowski, Rita, and I later that day went to the funeral home to pick out a casket and make arrangements, including the obituary. Since Rita and I flew to Michigan in beach and leisure clothes we lacked appropriate attire for a funeral. Items had to be purchased at the mall. Many, many telephone calls were made to relatives informing them of the sudden death of their loved one. Our plane reservations for that day had to be postponed. My brother had to travel from Scranton, PA. Father Majchrowski was called and a date set for the service. Dad�s three-day wake at the funeral home was a time for his friends and family to pay their last respects. The remaining members of dad�s former groups came and shook my hand and we reminisced about days past. Before the casket closed for the last time at Reigle�s my brother and I surreptitiously placed several golf items and a few Lottery tickets next to his body in the casket. I shall always maintain one fantastic memory from dad�s funeral - the procession of vehicles from the All Saints Church to New Calvary Cemetery. I knew that dad had friends of course but I was overwhelmed on that 4th day in August 1992. The parade of cars was seemingly endless - I could not see the end of the line of vehicles. Attending were his buddies from the track, his golf companions, former Chevrolet workers, Holy Name Society members, Grant & Carton St. neighbors and many family members. Louis Frank Sadowski, aka "SODx" husband, father, grandfather and eldest son of Rose and Michael Sadowski was laid to rest. Dowidziena Sod! ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Louie was somewhat of a singer/concertina player as I recall from my childhood days on Carton St. Many Sundays dad would pull out the small concertina and play all sorts of music. Once I married and left home I never saw the instument again. I learned many toones from dad's singing. For ex: Oh, My Darling Clementine, She'll be Comin Around the Mountain, Irene Good Night. I look at those years as his best mood years. I cannnot recall mom ever singing songs except in Church.
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