Every Saturday morning I would do chores for my parents before I would be allowed to go out with my friends to the rollerskating rink.  The year was 1959, and I was nine years old.  This week, I had extra chores, and would be doing them until about 11 am, two hours later than usual.  

    When Iwas finished my chores, my mother recommended that my dad drive him to the rink so I would not have to walk alone.  My dad, George, drove me the mile and a half to the skating rink. I had been looking forwardto this all week.  They kept me pretty busy as a kid.  When I got home from school every day at 3, I had to do his homework, then practice playing his accordion.  I hated that accordion.  

    When I was finished his chores, and practiced playing his accordion, his dad drove him to the rollerskating rink.  

    When they arrived at the rink, I opened the door to the car, and looked back at my dad , about to say, "Thanks Dad. I love you."  I got the word "thanks" out before Dad punched me in the face, knocking me out of the car.  George drove away, leaving me with a bloody nose lying on the sidewalk, with my  roller skates tied together, hanging over one shoulder.