Horni Dvoriste had a large square and some of the most prominent houses were built around this square. In the back of most houses there were large barns or storage sheds, sometimes with garden plots and fruit trees. Many of the taller and larger homes had lightning rods as well. One pleasant summer evening, just when the stars came out, and most of the village settled in for the night, a fire broke out in one of the barns - it was later thought a lantern had been kicked over by a cow (remember the great Chicago fire and Mrs. O'Leary's cow). The fire rapidly consumed the barn and the shouting and yelling of occupants running to save their lives from their homes created an unusual panic in the otherwise tranquil lives of the inhabitants. So quickly did the fire jump rooftops, that most people ran out with their nightgowns and quite a few without them. The village had an old hand pumper which was frantically brought out and people also formed bucket brigades, many in their birthday suites, but it was too little or of no avail. First the farmer's home went up in a scorching flame, then the general store, then the smith's house and shop, and so on, till literally one entire side of the village square was almost totally consumed. Naturally there were many kids on the square and of course the whole village turned out to watch the inferno or do whatever they could to try to help. Being kids, most of us didn't quite understand the full impact and significance of what was happening, but instead gathered together to sort of watch the action, and bet each other figuratively as to which home was going to go next and which villager looked silliest in his birthday suit. We really enjoyed the result of some of the men running from the general store's magazine which contained kegs of gunpowder that hunters used, and watched in amazement as one or two kegs exploded after having been dropped in the center of the square, out of harm's way, due to overheating.

It was well into the wee morning hours before the fight to contain the fire was won, and that was largely due to a shift in wind. The villagers whose properties were saved, were very helpful to the victims, and took them in to provide whatever food and shelter was needed. Of course to us kids that proved once more to be a lot of fun and excitement. Sharing beds with others, sitting at their tables, eating someone else's cooking and listening to different discussions all had elements of thrills and surprises. Fortunately the village escaped without human casualties, although there were some burns and injuries, but none of a critical nature. The animals in some instances fared much worse, however. Since the flames engulfed homes so quickly there was little chance to get to some of the barns, especially those with thatched roofs, so that a number of cattle and other animals were sadly destroyed. The village suffered from the stench of charred buildings and trapped animals for weeks. Slowly, it all came together again, and the square was fully rebuilt some two years later.

That was just about the time that my sibling and I took a walk outside towards the end of the village. It was a nice afternoon and we strolled here and there, looking at flowers, birds, stones, and anything that little boys and girls like to look at or discover. Once again, curiosity proved to be an almost fatal characteristic for me. There was a large stone barn at the end of the village with a stonewall moat on the side of the barn. The stones that comprised the moat had a width wide enough to walk around on. So I did, and promptly fell in the dark and murky mess. Suddenly I felt as though I was treading on quicksand and with each movement I slowly but surely sank deeper into the pit. My companion was petrified and started to scream for help. Unfortunately there wasn't anyone around as was usually the case in a rural and sparsely populated community. I was somewhat scared stiff myself since now my whole body had sunk up to my shoulders leaving only my neck, head and arms sticking out - and I was still sinking slowly. It looked a bit grim for me. Luckily just then two elderly retired ladies, out for their stroll in their Sunday best and carrying open sun umbrellas turned the corner and witnessed my plight. The ladies really had their act together. Quick as a whip one of them leaned over with her umbrella now folded and asked me to take the hooked handle of the umbrella with my free arm still stretched out above my head. I did so and both ladies pulled like mad and and finally freed me from the muck. They were very kind and gave me some endearing words of advice while sort of holding their noses at the same time. Meanwhile my companion had run off home and help was on the way. It was the kind of help I least needed just then, but my father had me take off all my clothes (which he promptly threw right back into the pit) and made me walk home in front of him in my birthday suit. After being suitably washed at the cistern, and being freshly clothed, he gave me my physical lecture with the two by two yardstick to which I was no stranger.

Punishment for wrongdoing and infractions of parental laws were swift and direct. One never had to guess as to either the methodology or the results. For minor violations one had his ears pulled and twisted a bit. Today I have large ears which, strangely enough in some quarters, signify long life. For more serious offenses one would be trashed with the yardstick and perhaps be sent to bed without dinner. For totally gross errors, or deliberate disobedience, one had to kneel on the sharp edge of a triangular split fire log for some twenty to thirty minutes depending on the severity of the crime committed; ouch, that hurts! There were some deviations to the rules which were rarely invoked. One such example, however was when my buddy and I were ratted on by a stoolie and my father received a written note from my elementary school teacher. It notified him that I had been found picking up discarded cigarette butts, that my shirt pockets indeed contained the real evidence upon examination, and that I had fully confessed in the classroom together with my buddy who had implicated me once the finger was put on him. My father didn't take the usual path. Instead he somewhat calmly asked me to go to the back garden shed with him whereon he closed the door and asked me to sit down. Having done so, he reached in his pocket and pulled out, what must have surely been one of the world's longest and thickest cigars and promptly lit it up and took a puff or two. Then he very simply gave it to me and said, "Finish it". Well now you know why I've been a non smoker even to this day, and in retrospect he really did me a great favor, although that probably wasn't his intention at the time.

As kids we also received some extra-curricular education from time to time. A good example is the one in which we were taken along to watch some real animal husbandry in full action. The farmer who provided the services of a star steer invited the villagers to sort of watch the show for a small fee, and apparently there was never a lack of an audience. To us kids, watching a mighty bull make out with a series of cows was awe inspiring. Could you think of a better way to learn the facts of life? Personally I could. What's more, my parents for one were very shy to talk to us about sex and it was a taboo subject, so unless we kids knew how to translate animal action into human equivalents, which most of us didn't know at the time, the animal shows were really non productive, educationally speaking. Other educational efforts were equally direct. I quite vividly remember being very excited at the idea of being taken to a large brook, the Moldau near Rozemberg, partially damned, some distance from the village for swimming lessons. There were a number of other villagers there since it was Sunday afternoon. The water was cold, but not freezing and it was very clear. I was trashing around having a good time in my altogether, when one of the "men" of the village thought it was time I learned how to swim. His idea of a quick lesson was to put his hand on my head and repeatedly duck me under water, ignoring any screams I may have made, so that when he was finished, I was almost half drowned. He taught me the lesson so well that it took me years to overcome my reluctance of feeling at home in a swimming pool. Skiing was not much different. My father got me a pair of children's skis and took me with him one winter day to the top of the hill. He put my skis on, and with one push shouted there you go. I sure went. Halfway down the hill, I took a flying spill and slid in all directions. Six weeks later, when the cast came off my foot, I was invited to go skiing again, but I firmly declined. Again, it took some two years or so before I ventured out with skis, and then only to some very petty hills. I didn't have much better luck on ice skates. My holiday gift one year were a pair of skates. The next day I joined some boys skating down a rather steep hill, which had been glazed over by throwing some water on the snow, so it was really very slippery. But all the big boys and girls were having a great time going downhill, so why not me. Well they didn't tell me that someone from the neighboring house had just dumped a bucket of hot ashes from their coal stove at the end of the hill, so that when I hit the spot, well yes you guessed it, four weeks with a plaster cast for my broken right wrist. Then there was the part about sun bathing. Once more, a beautiful summer day and an all day outing (on foot of course) to the Moldau. Getting there was uneventful. But once there it didn't take long for me to get a giant splinter wedged deep in my heel as we were running on the wooden boards lined at a section of the river for sunbathers. My folks realized the impossibility of trying to remove the deeply lodged splinter and naturally I couldn't walk, so they took turns in carrying me and in helping me limp my way home. Instead of the four or so hours it took to walk there, it took almost twice as long to get back with my handicap holding up the progress. Once home however, the kindly doctor did his thing and salvaged me once again.

Well dear reader, this time I was successful with you no doubt. You never did quite finish - right? Since you may have another difficult time many weeks from now, I am going to continue with several more STORIES which you can hold as a reserve for those emergencies. As you can see the program is working. Thank you.