In 1941 I was in the 11th grade and on the Pomona High School football squad. I was not too good. Semi qualified for standing tackle or guard. I can remember throwing a block on the tackle dummy and Assistant Coach Stan Acres would admonish me on how I could do better. I thought that I was doing good, but I guess not. Mr Acres was also my History Teacher. I admired and liked him. I have fond memories of his American History class. First day in class he asked me to go out for football. I was a big boy (for 1941) at six feet tall.
I was washing dishes for a living and living in a $4 1/2 a month room on East 2nd Street. I can remember buying a quart of cold chocolate milk at the Pomona Creamery on the way to my room from football practice. It tasted so good! I would drink the whole thing right then. It seems strange that I was supporting myself, and going to high school, and going out for football at 16 years old.
The Pomona High School team was scheduled to go to Phoenix and play a game. It involved a train ride. I was so excited! Thirty players were to make the trip. The list was posted and there I was at number thirty! The next day a new list was posted. Joe Beck was at number thirty and I was not on the list at all. My heart was broken. (It still is) I wonder if the persons responsible had any idea of the heart break that they had dealt the Old PrunePicker
The night that the team loaded on the train I was there wishing them all a good trip and a good time. I remember the railroad car full of 30 happy team mates while I stood on the platform and waved. This was such a bitter pill. It would have been better if I had not been on the first list. I mean it was a serious disappointment. I still feel the bitter pain 65 years later.