My mom, dad, a younger sister and I had been living in a public housing project since 1940. We resided in a two-bedroom apartment adjacent to the Franklin Canal on East San Antonio Street. We moved to a three-bedroom apartment in the 2000 block of Magoffin Avenue when my mother became pregnant with my second sister. We were a family of six by 1945.

El Paso was segregated. The nearest public school was Douglas Elementary and High School on South Eucalyptus Street. Douglas was the school all black children in El Paso attended. The next closest public school was Beall. Beall was overcrowded with children of Mexican descent. Roman Catholic children could attend Saint Mary's Catholic parochial school located in Downtown El Paso. The few White Anglo-Saxon Protestant students were given a choice of three grade schools Alta Vista, Crockett, or Houston. All were about five miles from the housing project. Because my mom's siblings had attended Crockett, Crockett would be my Grade School.

I entered First Grade in September 1942 when I became six-years old. On my first day of school, my mother rode the streetcar with me to school and back when classes were over at noon. I was on my own until my younger sister joined me when she started First Grade. I rode Streetcar # 2 everyday, until they were replaced by buses in 1947. I continued using the #2 route transportation, until I completed Seventh Grade in May 1949.

Route 2 was one of the few in the City which operated everyday of the year. Fort Bliss was the outbound destination on Route 2. The other end of the run was the Plaza Park, Downtown. From Fort Bliss the route ran west on Fort Boulevard, then south on Copia Street to Alta Vista and then west to Five Points via Hueco and Tularosa Streets. From there, it ran south along Piedras Street to Myrtle Avenue and then west to the Plaza. Children's car fare was three-cents one way.

My grandparents resided four blocks from Crockett. If there was a problem, I knew I could go to them for help. Each time my mom gave birth to one of my two youngest sisters, I stayed at grandma's and walked to and from school.

Crockett had an adequate cafeteria. The lunch meal cost a Dime. Weekly lunch cards were sold. My favorite meal was on Fridays. We were served chile con carne y frijoles (chili with meat and beans) and a glazed donut. I don't remember being served fish. We were told the Roman Catholic Diocese of El Paso was given a Dispensation by Pope Pius, allowing red meat to be eaten on Friday, because of our remote desert location.

Every school day morning, my mother would inspect to see if I had six-cents for car fare and a Dime or a meal card. If I had more than sixteen-cents, the surplus stayed home. Neither my sisters nor I were allowed candy during the week unless it was a birthday or other holiday. Sweets were a special treat for weekends.

During the nineteen forties and fifties, Crockett was smack dab in in the middle of a high rent residential area. The PTA (Parent Teachers Association) was one of the best heeled in town. Besides funds from dues, donations and sponsored shows; money was raised by selling candy and ice cream next to the cafeteria line. Candy was low cost. A Baby Ruth was two-cents, a Tootsie Roll or a Fleers Double Bubble Gum cost a Penny. You could purchase a Popsicle or a cup of ice cream for a Nickle.

In September 1945, my eldest sister entered First Grade. Because I had three-years experience, I was responsible for her. The first week I showed her how to get to the trolley stop at noon. After that she was on her own.

I rode the 3:45 PM trolley home. It was late in October, cold enough to wear light jackets or sweaters to school in the morning. I was on my way to the car stop when my sister startled me, crying, "I lost my streetcar money."

She had played in the adjacent Memorial Park until I got out of school. What do I do, put her on the streetcar and walk home? I could ask the conductor, if she could ride for free. My decision was to walk home with her. I wasn't going to beg for a ride on the streetcar.

The route home was a little more than five miles. We had to cross Piedras Street, Texas Avenue and Alameda Avenue. They were the busiest streets on the way home. I chose to cross Piedras at Tularosa Avenue in Five Points.

I didn't want to walk past Abraham's Market on Yandell Avenue where it intersects Piedras; because old-man Abraham with his bushy brows, piercing dark eyes, hawk nose and handlebar mustache scared me. His son married my mom's cousin. My mother talked to him once in a while. I always hid behind her while they conversed in Lebanese Arabic. Now that I think about it, my mother never shopped in Abraham's store. She bought groceries at the Salome Brothers store, nearer to our house.

The house was in turmoil when we arrived a little after 5:30 PM. Being the eldest, I had to withstand a barrage of heated words on my own. My sister, by my side, so innocent and teary eyed, was getting hugged by my mother.

Finally one of my "Buts!" got through all the flak falling on my nine-year old shoulders. It's no wonder I'm having shoulder problems seventy five-years later. "But, mom, she lost her streetcar money!"

Angrily, between a couple of choice Lebanese words, she yelled, "Why didn't you walk to your Sitie's (grandmother's in Lebanese Arabic), and call us?"

Crestfallen, non-heroically, I replied, "I don't know."

Flip the calendar forward to 1985 or so. Reminiscing about our childhood at my sister's house, I told the above tale. My sister's youngest daughter laughed and said, "Mom, when she told the story said, 'I bought a Baby Ruth and was ashamed to confess.'"