I remember Hinks department store in downtown Berkeley. Occasionally my Mom would drag me there for some new clothes, but never go to the toy department.

No no, “Were on a budget,” and I suppose she thought it’s better not to see what we can’t afford. One evening, just before Christmas, Dad said “Let’s go look at Hinks windows and the Holiday displays.” Although I was suffering from a terrible cold, it was well worth the effort. Every year the store made these wonderful scenes and they were animated with not only things like Santa and his reindeer seeming to float above tons of brightly wrapped presents, there were the toy makers at their workbench, little hammers working away, a fairy land time that came only at Christmas.

It was almost closing time that night, and we had a few minutes. Mom and sis went one way and Dad and I another. Down in the basement of the store, the whole basement was set up with toys to buy for Christmas. Never before had I seen such a glorious sight.

Toys wall to wall, and tables around the center stacked high with shiny tin cars, boats and airplanes. Bicycles, tricycles and red wagons hung from the walls,all shiny and new.

There was a booth set up in in the middle of the toy room, it was a shooting gallery for Daisy air rifles and a couple of boys were taking turns trying out the bb guns. Dad said, would you like to try that? At first I said no (my cold was bad). But Dad said come on lets try it. The man in the booth gave Dad the rifle and Dad took a few shots and then handed it to me. See if you can hit that bulls eye or the squirrel on a branch or the little lollypops all in a row. It felt great holding this blue steel rifle, it seemed to fit my size.

Looking down the sights, I remembered what my uncle Tom had taught me about aiming. Pow! Ding! There was a bell in the center of the target! Dad said “Hey, thats pretty good, try it again. Pow! Ding! And then I went after the lollypops, pow! pow! pow!

Hinks department store was closing, we had to leave, and that was the last time the basement had all those shiny bright toys in it, ever again. The war had started, and toys were the casualty, the metal was needed for the war effort. On the way home Dad was telling Mom that I had an eye for shooting and Mom of course said, “Those bb guns are dangerous, he’s too young for that.”.......... Once again Mom was right.

In a few days my cold was better, and I was released from house arrest to go outside.

My best friend (and next door neighbor) Billy, was waiting for me and we played in front of the big elm tree at the curb. We were brushing ants off the trunk of the elm when a voice yelled at us from across the street. Are you ready for Santa?? He said.

It was one of the older boys on on our block, ( usually never spoke to the kids like us ) Billy and I said YES! YEAH! we cant wait! Oh you guys are still babies. Do you really believe in Santa Clause? He was delighted to tell us of all the reasons for not believing in Santa. And indeed...... he put a doubt in my head. But Mom and Dad always talked as if Santa was real........... And I put my trust in them.

Well that was the best incentive for getting out of a warm bed so easily. And with eyes still bleary, I went to see the magic that happened in our house. Since my eyes were not awake, the first thing that struck me was the unmistakable glorious scent of a real pine.

And there it was............ Just as it appeared last year as if by magic, it came back again.

Six feet of evergreen generously layered with silver tinsel. The red, blue and green lights reflected on the silver which swayed with the slightest breeze. And at the top. a silvered glass bird, art-deco style, a dove of peace. My eyes, (now wide open) went to the base of the tree. Some presents were wrapped and a few were not.

There was a long red fire engine with white ladders, a baseball bat and glove. As I scrambled over on my knee’s, reaching for the truck, I saw something completely unexpected. There. nestled in the cotton batting “snow,” with it’s blue steel barrel and varnished wood stock. was the Daisy air rifle!................ Dad had gone against Moms advice to buy this for me. There were rules to follow, (supervised shooting) and it was put away immediately after.

And finally they thought I was trustworthy, and let me keep it in my room.

My sister and our cousin Jackie were playing doll house in our back yard and they started putting popsicle sticks in the earth besides the doll house. I thought it was great fun standing on the porch to shoot those popsicle sticks out almost as soon as they put them in. ( I was a great shot) They were annoyed at me, their little picket fence of popsicle sticks was continually under construction. So they put them in deeper.

That proved to be the recipe for disaster. I shot, the stick bent and deflected the b b upwards, hitting Jackie in her forehead, right between the eyes! She let out a scream that could be heard for miles! When she ran in the house to tell, I knew the gun would be taken away. And I knew Mom was right again.