StoryCorps 450: Up to No Good
[MUSIC “Boop” by Podington Bear]
Michael Garofalo: Hi, and welcome to the StoryCorps Podcast. I’m Michael Garofalo. We’re calling this episode “Up to No Good”, and it’s all about the trouble you stir up as a kid. We’ll hear from people who were, by their own admission, lying, thieving, disrespectful children. Sometimes they got away with it, and sometimes they didn’t.
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Miriam Kerpen (MK): I was thirteen at the time so this was 1933. I went into Uncle Jake’s room and opened the dictionary and in the middle of the dictionary was hidden a magazine called Spicy Stories. Spicy Stories was pictures – it, it I guess it qualifies as porn, I’m not sure – but it was mostly pictures of naked ladies dressed in jewelry and high heels and it absolutely was astonishing to me. And I wrote down the name of the publisher and I wrote to them and said, ‘Please, I’m gonna be going to be going away to camp this summer but I would appreciate a subscription. And I would appreciate it if you would send it in plain cover…’’ It was a dollar for a subscription. I sent the dollar. …and then forgot about it. It was over and done and I went to camp. And one day I was called in front of the head counselor who said, ‘This came in the mail for you.’ And there was Spicy Stories –
Lisa Shufro (LS): No plain cover.
MK: No plain cover.
[MUSIC “Three for the Show” by The Johnny Staccato Band]
MG: That was Miriam Kerpen who recorded that interview when she was 85. She spoke with her daughter, Lisa Shufro. This next story also involves a rather exciting cover photograph. It comes from someone named Olly Neal, who grew up in Arkansas during the 1950s and he was one of these teenagers who really didn’t care much for school. One day during his senior year, he skipped class and ended up wandering into the library, and as he tells his daughter in this interview we’re about to hear, he stumbled onto a book written by African American author, Frank Yerby.
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Olly Neal (ON): I was a rather troubled high school senior at the time, about sixteen years old at the time. And I spotted this book that looked rather risque, called the Treasure of Pleasant Valley. On the cover was a drawing of a woman who appeared to be wearing something that was basically see-through, but the symbolism was really great for me at that age.
And then I realized if I read the book, two of my classmates, girls, were volunteering in the library, and if they saw me taking out a book they would tell the boys and my reputation would be down because I was reading books. And I wanted them to know that all I could do was fight and cuss and so finally come to me, just steal the book. And so, when I finished the book in about a week or two I brought it back.
And when I put it back there was another book by Frank Yerby. So I thought maybe I’ll read that too. So I took it under my jacket, and later I brought it back. And God, there was another book by Frank Yerby so I took it. And I think that semester I read four books by Frank Yerby.
And several years–thirteen to be exact, we were at a gathering at my high school, for my class reunion, and the teacher who had been the librarian, Mildred Grady, was there. She told me that she saw me take that book when I first took it.
She said her first thought was to go and tell him, ’Boy, you don’t have to steal that book. You can check it out. They’re free.’ Then she realized what my situation was. I couldn’t let anyone know I was reading. So she said that she decided that if an old boy would read a book, she and Mrs. Saunders would drive to Memphis and find another one for me to read. And they would put it in the exact same place where the one I had taken was. And every time I took one out, they headed to Memphis to find another one.
You have to understand, this was not an easy matter, because this was 1957 and 58. Black authors were not especially available, number one, and number two, Frank Yerby was not such a widely known author and number three, they had to drive all the way to Memphis to find it. And I credit Mrs. Yerby for getting me in the habit of reading so I was able to go to law school and survive.
Karama Neal (KN): That’s pretty cool.
ON: Yeah.
[MUSIC “Elephant Walk” by Podington Bear]
MG: That’s Judge Olly Neal with his daughter Karama in Little Rock Arkansas. In 1991, Neal became the first ever black District Attorney in Arkansas. Later, he was elected as a judge and then appointed to the Arkansas Court of Appeals where he served for eleven years.
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MG: We’re going to hear two more stories now about people whose antics continued into adulthood. The first comes from a retired country doctor from upstate New York, his name is Richard Collins–Dr. Richard Collins–and he was interviewed by his grandson Sean, who at the time was a medical student at Cornell, and he wanted to know something about his grandfather’s education, which started at a small Catholic school.
| Richard Collins (RC): Sister‘d go out and ring the bell and that signified that anybody came in after that bell was late and got a demerit of some kind. And I was, that was a chronic problem I had, getting up a little late…and I grew to hate that bell. One time, I stole back to the school went in the window and stole that bell and the next day there was, uh, hell to pay because somebody had taken that bell. Sister said it was a sin against the school, it was a sin against the sisters, sin against the faith, sin against the Pope and I know it was such a terrible sin that I, ah, no way I could bring the shame on my family to confess that. Course sisters came and sisters went, and Popes even came and Popes went.
Sean Collins (SC): And what did you end up doing with the school bell?
RC: I still have it …it’s by my bedside, and I joyfully ring it every now and then.
SC: What about as you got older, going through school. Um, a story about you seeing a woman who—I’m not sure if she was a psychiatric patient…
RC: Oh Mrs. Pepitone. This is when I was a medical student. One of my sisters for my birthday gave me a clip-on bow tie that had a red bulb on each side and a wire that went inside your shirt and down to a battery in your pocket and if you pressed the battery the tie would glow red. I thought it was a pretty dumb gift actually when I got it. But we got a patient in on the floor named Mrs. Pepitone. Her main complaint was that she was full of electricity and she would tell in this Italian accent, “I’ma full of electric!” And she was a conundrum for everybody; nobody knew what to do with her. And um, one day, ah, we had rounds and I thought, “I’m gonna wear my neck tie and see what we can do with Mrs. Pepitone.” While they were mulling her case I suddenly pronounced, “Mrs. Pepitone, I’ma gonna cure your electric.” So uh I walked over to her and I said, “I’m gonna put my hand on your forehead. I want you to push out the electric.” So she pushed and pushed and I pressed the battery in my pocket and my necktie lit up, and she says, “It’sa goin, It’sa goin, it’s leavin’ my body!” So uh she was discharged the next day. And uh the rounding man came up to me privately and said, ”I don’t I would tell the professor about that quackery.” |
[MUSIC “Good Times” by Podington Bear]
MG: That’s Dr. Richard Collins, interviewed by his grandson, Sean Collins, in New York City.
Finally we’ll hear from three generations of the Wang family. Kay Wang was kind of dragged kicking and screaming to her StoryCorps interview. She was brought by her son, Chung and her granddaughter, Chen. And as you’re about to hear, getting her to talk about anything at all was a challenge. She was 87 at the time, and she had, let’s say, a reputation for being strong willed–something that began when she was a child.
[TAPE Wang]
Kay Wang (KW): I wasn’t very nice. If I make a mistake my mother she make me apologize. And our custom, when you apologize to your mother you have to bring a cup of tea and say, ”I’m sorry.” But I purposely dropped that hot cup of tea on my mother’s lap. And I wasn’t a good student. I always lie to get out of school because lots of boyfriend after me. That time I was still young. I was not bad looking then. So what else? Hurry, hurry. I want to go home.
Chen Wang (CW): How’d you meet Grandpa?
KW: I was a training nurse in a hospital. He was there for hemorrhoid operation. So when your grandpa see me, your grandpa keep on asking me to get married. And I said, ”I don’t like you. You have bald headed.” I didn’t like him because he’s ugly. But one thing about your grandpa — he’s very smart. That’s it. No more question.
CW: Just a couple more questions?
KW: Short one.
CW: Short ones.
CW: Short ones. Tell me about working at Bloomingdales. What did you do?
KW: You know what I do. I’m not going to tell you.
CW: No you have– you have to talk about it.
KW: I am a detective. I got the very famous designer. I better not mention her name. She stole a dress three thousand some dollar. So I walk out the store. I said, ”Would you like to pay me that dress?” She said, ”Do you know who I am?” I said, ”Ya, you’re a thief.” So, that’s my life.
CW: Do you have any regrets?
KW: No! What should I regret? No. I think I’m old enough to do what I would like. And that’s it.
[MUSIC “Somewhere New” by Lee Rosevere]
MG: That’s Kay Wang with her son Chung and her granddaughter, Chen. We actually turned this into one of our animated shorts, it’s called “No More Questions”, and there’s a follow-up interview in that animation with Chung and Chen that tells you a little bit more about Kay. So if you want more Kay Wang, just head over to StoryCorps.org.
That’s it for this episode of the StoryCorps Podcast. These stories were produced by Vanara Taing, Katie Simon, and me. And as always, you can find out more about the music in this episode on our website. For the StoryCorps Podcast, I’m Michael Garofalo. Thanks for listening.
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At StoryCorps, he explained to his daughter, Karama (pictured above), what it was about that particular book that drew him to it, and how 13 years later he found out his “crime” had actually been a set-up.
Sean Collins, a medical student at Cornell University, comes from three generations of doctors. He came to StoryCorps with his 81-year-old grandfather, Dr. Richard Collins (pictured above), to hear about two pranks the older Collins pulled—one when he was a young boy attending Catholic school, and the other when he was a medical student making his rounds at an upstate New York hospital.
Finally, we hear from three generations of the Wong family, 87-year-old Kay, her son Chung, and her granddaughter Chen (pictured above).