Vinyl Floors, Super Friends, and the Storms of Early Childhood

My mom left my dad when I was two years old. Looking back, my earliest memories aren’t tied to a specific house address or a cozy family living room, but to the public housing complex everyone simply called "the projects."

I can still picture those floors—12-by-12-inch commercial-style vinyl tiles. No carpet anywhere, and more roaches than anyone would care to count. My absolute first core memory of living there was the Great Blizzard of 1978. I remember my mom opening the front door, and the wall of snow packed against the entryway was literally taller than my head. We didn’t have a car back then, and we didn't interact much with extended family during those days. It was just our tight-little unit holding down the fort.

When my older siblings left for school each morning, I wanted so badly to go with them. But looking back, my day-to-day routine as a toddler was pretty cushy. I’d start the morning eating cereal in front of the TV, hooked on Sesame Street and The Electric Company. Eventually, my mom would take over the dial to watch her soap operas, but as soon as she was done, I’d flip it back to watch Rocky & Bullwinkle, Mr. Peabody & Sherman, and whatever other cartoons were on.

When my brother got home from school, the afternoon lineup kicked into high gear. It felt like Robin Hood and The Lone Ranger were always on, but the undisputed king of after-school TV—the show we watched religiously together—was Super Friends. And if weekday afternoons were great, Saturday mornings were straight-up cartoon heaven.

Not having a dad around was tough, but having an older brother just a few years ahead of me made all the difference. He was my partner in crime, and we went through the gauntlet of life together. We would sit there for hours dreaming of becoming superheroes. Every martial arts flick or action movie we saw, we’d immediately try to copy the moves. My mom even made sure we never missed a Chuck Norris or Sylvester Stallone movie growing up, feeding right into our action-hero ambitions.

Of course, life in the projects had a darker side that eventually crashed through the door.

When I was around Head Start age—maybe five or six—my mom got together with a new guy who was an ex-Navy veteran. What we didn't know at first was that he suffered from severe manic episodes. One day, he completely flipped out and tried to burn my mom’s eyes out with a cigarette. Unlike my biological dad, he had the VA hospital system to step in and handle his severe mental health struggles. Their relationship was a whirlwind—married after six months, but total chaos from start to finish, lasting barely a year in total.

After that storm passed, things took another unexpected turn. Out of nowhere, my biological dad suddenly re-entered my life. It wasn't for long, but at the time, it was pretty cool to have him back around.

I’ll get into that chapter in the next post. Stay tuned.