Old-timer John Boger wrote these memories upon my request when we exchanged e-mails in January 2009. I just found them in old e-mails in July 2016 which doesn't say much for my abilities to handle e-mail in a timely manner.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Written by and Copyright 2009 John Boger - edited by Don Boyd

I think I knew that Rose Taylor, if it is the same one who went to our Episcopal Church of the Epiphany in Hialeah. I recall that name anyhow.

When we moved to Hialeah it was not much more than a cow town so to speak. If you went much more up Palm Avenue past 9th Street there wan't much of anything. If you went up East 1st Avenue, it basically ended at the parking lot at the race track. East 4th Avenue went out to the boon docks and from there east the main avenues ended at 79th Street. I think East 8th Avenue went on up to the backside of Opa-locka and ended at one of the security gates to the Naval Air Station there. West of Palm Avenue there was hardly a darn thing until you got to Red Road.

Remembering some of the merchants there in the old main part of Hialeah, there was C. T. McGee who had the Sinclair service station for a lot of years. I worked for him in my teen years pumping gas, doing grease jobs and cleaning up messes when I was a kid. I remember one time that a great big long black Caddy came pulling in to the station with a big guy dressed in some of the finest dude clothes I ever saw and smoking a long smelly cigar. He cranked down the window, and as I approached he blew the smoke in my direction and said he needed directions to the race track. Well, hell, I thought everybody could see the sign across the street at the intersection where 1st Avenue met Hialeah Drive. So I thought oh well I'm going to fix this old goat up real good. I ask to excuse myself while I went inside to draw him a map. He patiently waited and when I came back out, more cigar smoke, so I explained to him the directions. Unbeknownst to him, he was going to Naples by way
of the back side of Miami Springs and out to 36th Street and on around to Tamiami Trail where he was to make a right hand turn. He grunted something at me and cranked up his window, pulled out and the last I saw he was making a left turn to go across the old bridge. About three weeks later, I was under the grease rack and out of the corner of my eye, I thought I recognized the car that was pulling in. Oh No ! Oh Hell No ! It was the same dude and I was expecting to really be cussed out in some Yankee words that I wouldn't even be able to understand. Instead he started telling me what a great time he had had on his vacation at Naples and how much money he had saved by me sending him over there compared to what he supposed he would have lost at the track and he handed me a crispy fifty for having done a dirty deed. I graciously thanked him and he left never to be seen again thankfully. Old man McGee laughed his ass off over that for a lot of years. That was
more money than I made in two weeks at work. I spent it on things I never thought of ever getting for myself. I went across the street to JD Vann's Barber Shop and got my first real haircut. Then I went into Hubbards Kubboard and had somebody buy me a beer. Man I was on top of the world until the cash ran out.

There was Mr. and Mrs. Aldridge(?) who were deaf and mute who owned the shoe repair shop just a block over. They did the finest work you ever expected. He is the only man I ever knew who smoked the entire cigar, butt and all. He would stick a toothpick into the end and after it burnt down that far he held the toothpick between his teeth and sucked on the cigar. There was not a thing left but ashes when he got through. Other than the noise of the overhead belt which drove all the different machines, the place was really quiet.

There was George King who had a radio repair shop a few doors north of the shoe shop. George was quite a guy. He helped me get my ham license and some of my first commercial radio licenses. I hung out there a good bit of my spare time. He had a fine rig and made contacts all over the world on his equipment. I never saw so many QSL cards hanging on a wall before or since. He and his wife lived in the back half of the shop with their real young son. I think when he left Hialeah he moved up around Jacksonville and stayed in business there for a while.

There was D. D. Freeman's on the main drag and a drug store in the mix of businesses. On up East 1st Ave about 4 or 5 blocks was Roses' Frozen Custard Stand. There was also a place or two that us kids were not allowed to go near or ever inside of because of the reputation of the women which worked there. That only made our curiosity rise to the bursting point. Later on when my brother and I were what we considered to be old enough and wanted to go in and check the places out, they had been closed up by the law. We never did get to satisfy our itch there.

Ken Mattingly lived a couple of blocks from us just on the other side of 4th Ave. in the S.E. area and he and David Coates who lived across the road from us, taught us about building and flying model airplanes. I guess he was always aeronautically inclined as in but a few years he was one of the Apollo astronauts flying to the moon. I think David went to work at the Cape in rocket design or something to do with the rockets.

Another thought regarding the flood year just popped into my mind. At W. 9th and Red Road, across on the county side, there was a snake farm of sorts. The guy who owned it or operated it must not have been taught spelling as his sign painted with great big red letters on a white background read, REPITLE FARM. When the flood came, most of his creatures escaped and ran loose for weeks. Some never were found I'm sure. Some I know for a fact were shot, butchered and eaten over the period of a few days.

Enough for now........ I can tell you more tales that will make my mother turn over in her grave but I had best not until I know for sure that some of the other kids and their parents involved are dead and buried. I would not want to open a real can of worms here.

Have an enjoyable read,

John

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -